Page 14 of The Offer

“Is that wine?” he gawked, walking over to sit next to her. He slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. “Got any more?”

Jess shook her head. She technically did, but she’d hidden it away. Despite the cheapness of the bottle, this was her small luxury. She wasn’t in the mood to share.

“Damn,” he sighed. “Could use some right now. It’s been a long day.”

Jess didn’t respond at first, just looked up at Charlie’s raven-black hair. She used to love running her hands through it, the motion always soothing whatever worries were going on in that head of his. But the desire to do so wasn’t there anymore, so she swirled her wine, keeping her eyes on the glass. “He’s got you working late?”

“Yeah, there was this event tonight for all the boatyard vendors. He said he needed me there to charm them.”

“And I’m sure that worked,” Jess said, her tone coming off flat and a little bitter.

Charlie didn’t seem to notice. “It did. They were eating out of the palm of my hand.”

Jess made a face, thankful that his gaze was angled toward the porch blinds.

“Jessie,” he whispered. “I have to tell you something.”

Her stomach turned. He still wasn’t looking directly at her, but she could see the anguish on his face. Her chest tightened. “What did you do?” she snipped.

Charlie’s attention snapped to her, his eyes wide. “Me? I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

She exhaled. “Okay, then what’s going on?”

“It’s about the Cape.”

Feeling her hands starting to shake again, she placed her glass down on the scuffed-up coffee table in front of them. “The Cape” referred to Cape Cod, the place where they took a vacation every year. Jess…hated it. Hated that the only place she could get away to each year was another beach—a little different to Haverport, but a beach nonetheless. But Charlie’s parents had a house out in Brewster, so getting to stay there, just the two of them, meant free. It wasn’t her ideal vacation, but it was what they could afford. And more importantly, it was an entire week off.

But with the way Charlie was looking at her, she had a feeling her blissful week of nothing was about to get ripped out from under her feet.

“My father decided to put the house up for short-term vacation rentals this year,” he started. “He says he has a lot going on here this summer and won’t have the opportunity to use it. So our family is getting one week at the end of April before rentals start.”

She began wringing her hands. “So…you’re saying that our week will now involve the family? And it’s happening next month?” It will be colder this time of year, she thought. But still lovely. And still an entire week off.

“Actually…the week will be for family, but only for immediate family members and spouses,” he rushed out, looking sheepish. “And since we’re not married…”

“That means I’m not invited.”

Charlie simply nodded, his eyes searching Jess’s face for something that she knew wasn’t there. Grace. Forgiveness. Kindness. Love. She wasn’t giving him any of it. Instead, she bolted up from the couch and rubbed her neck. She felt like she was on fire. She reached for her glass and downed the dregs of her wine, gripping the stem hard.

“Jessie—”

“Shut up,” she demanded, not looking in his direction. “I knew they hated me, Charlie, I’ve known for a while now…but this? This is cruel.”

“They don’t hate you,” he whispered, his voice hesitant. Like even he was grasping at a truth that wasn’t there.

“Oh really? Tell me, how many times have I been invited to a family holiday since moving in with you? When’s the last time I was over at the house, or even talked to your parents?”

He frowned. “Jessie, you know the rules—”

“Married couples only, got it,” she spat. Her throat felt singed, raw, like any second she was going to open up her mouth and scorch the entire apartment. Reduce her entire life to ash. “So does this mean we’ll have to go somewhere else for vacation? With our own money?”

Charlie stood up, reaching for her, but she was too quick. She snatched her hand away and stumbled a step back.

“I-I don’t think I’ll be able to get away this summer,” he uttered. “There’s a lot going on at the boatyard this year, and you know how the season can be.”

“So no vacation,” she said. “No week off. No nothing.”

“Maybe—maybe this fall? We could get away? The house…it won’t have any rentals anymore. We’ll escape, just you and me.”