Chris POV
"So, you took a bullet for my brother?" Tinsley asks, changing the direction of her chair to face me head on.
I laugh lightly, shaking my head. "I wouldn't say it was actually meant for your brother. The guy was just a really lousy shot. I mean, he actually shot his own guy while trying to get me."
She pushes her plate away, resting her elbow on the glass table. "Still, that's a pretty selfless job," she reminds me, setting her head in the palm of her hand, her curls wrapping around her fingers as she holds her head up. "Ever thought about getting out?"
"No, not really." I take another sip of my drink, still nursing the first bottle.
"Not really?" she parrots back to me. "Doesn't sound very convincing." She leans back in her chair again, crossing her tanned legs. "What would make you give it up?"
'Three hundred miles,' I think to myself. "Not sure I've found a reason yet. Would you ever want to give up your world travels?" I ask with a small grin, flipping the question back to her.
"It's hard to get the idea of a family out of my mind, but it's probably not ideal to travel the world with a baby strapped to your chest or back. And most guys don't really want to be the one to follow a woman around," she replies, giving me a sassy, but knowing look. "I suppose if he was really wanting to be a dad then the kids could stay with him while I continue gallivanting the world."
"Find the right person and that probably wouldn't matter to them, I suppose," I say pointedly, looking down at the bottle in my hand, aimlessly pulling at the wrapping on it. "But, me personally, I want a woman that wants to be present for her children."
Here's hoping that statement causes her to back off a bit.
I realize quickly, it's fallen on deaf ears.
Tinsley casts a glance towards the back door before leaning up, resting her hand on my knee. "Looks like they're a bit occupied. Do you want to get out of here and go get a drink? Maybe talk a bit more," she pauses, her thumb rubbing against my jeans, "freely without the ears of my brother around?"
I look at the amount of bottles sitting just in front of her space alone and know that's not a smart idea even if I'm the one driving. "Actually, I need to get going. And I think it best you stay here with Spence tonight."
She scoots to the edge of her chair as I'm trying to get out of mine. "I'd much rather stay with you."
I lick my lips and swallow the hard lump that's formed. I push my chair back further out of her reach. "While I find a certain amount of confidence sexy, being this forward is actually a complete turn off. Have a good night, Tinsley." I hear her huff out a groan as I make my way to the back door.
As soon as I slide it open I hear the words that stop me in my tracks. "And keeping a promise to Opal."
I see Laura's face in complete shock, that I'm sure matches my own. "What promise to Opal?" I ask, taking one step towards the couple.
Spencer's hand reaches up to massage his forehead before turning around, facing me, his arms crossed against his chest. "Opal asked me to introduce you to someone that I thought could take your mind off of her," he says quietly, even toned.
"Have you lost your mind?" Laura yells from her spot in the middle of the kitchen.
My jaw sits tight, my stance becoming a little straighter. I'm no longer relaxed. "I know that meth head hit you wicked hard yesterday, but you can't be serious."
Laura paces the kitchen for a moment before grabbing the hand towel from the counter. "I can't believe you!" she yells, whipping the towel at him. It's hard enough that he actually winces as it hits his bicep.
"What was I suppose to do?" he slumps down into a kitchen chair. "It was right before they left to go home. I didn't have time to ask questions or find the real reasoning behind it."
"Maybe ask your best friend if that's something he's ready for rather than trying to push your sister, who by the way is a bit too forward with him, on him!" Laura yells before stomping out of the room and up the stairs. Less than twenty seconds later the sound of a door slamming rattles the house.
Spencer lifts his head, finally looking me in the eye for the first time tonight. "If it helps, she was crying when she asked."
"Where's Laura's phone?"
His brow furrows in confusion by my question. "Where is your wife's phone?" I ask again, my voice stern and an octave louder. He walks over to a corner table in the living room, pulling the charging chord from it. He passes it over to me. "Code?"
"434312," he reveals, taking a stride towards the back door again.
I move myself towards the front door, pulling my keys out of my pocket. "By the way, your sister tried to go home with me. She's drunk, make her stay here tonight."
"I didn't want to do it, Chris," were the last words I heard as I closed their front door behind me.
Opal POV
Another night of staying way too late at the Inn makes me thankful that Rae called to tell me she was taking me out for a night of desserts. It's a tradition we had back in college but once relationships came into play, it kind of fell by the wayside.
A chime from the grandfather clock in the lobby tells me I need move a bit quicker. Scooping up my purse I toss my cell in it and lock the office door behind me. "Good night, Miss Lucas," Jeremy tells me as I move through the hallway.
"See you tomorrow."
"No you won't," I hear from the foyer as I round the corner.
"Oh, I won't?" I ask Rae with my brow raised. She shakes her head side to side. "Nope. You're taking the day off."
Opening the door I usher her out onto the porch. "And why am I doing that?"
"Because I made an appointment for you, and you're going to keep it because I'm dragging you there myself." With a flick of her wrist she's opening the driver side door of her compact car and sliding in before I can protest.
Once situated and buckled in I begin my questioning. "What kind of an appointment, Rae?"
"A much needed appointment." She throws the car in reverse and looks at me for a moment. "And I know you're gonna try and pry it from me, but it won't work. You don't need to dress any specific way, and if you want you can come into work after. However, I think you'll be too exhausted to even contemplate working."
Now the gears are really turning in my head. What kind of appointment could make me too exhausted for work? "Did you get me a personal trainer?" That earns me a small chuckle as she pulls onto the street. "Is the trainer at least hot? I mean, if I'm gonna get all hot and sweaty then at least let me have something nice to look at."
Lucky for me we're at a red light because I'm being given a very agitated look by my friend whose eyes should really be on the road in front of her. "There's only one man you need to be looking at. And if you'd give him the time of day you could get all hot and bothered without actually working out." She looks off to the side with a shoulder shrug. "Or at least have more fun getting hot and bothered."
I plaster the fake smile back across my face. The one they've all been witness to over the last few months since Pop's passing and ultimately the demise of Chris and I's relationship. I think it hurts my heart a little more each time I have to fake the happiness.
In all honestly, it's nonexistent.
The nights of barely sleeping came back as soon as that first night back from Atlanta. When I have slept, I'm constantly dreaming of Chris forgetting me and moving on. Doing all the things I'm pushing him to do, no matter how painful it is for me to think about. And every night I wake up panicked, sweaty and my heart racing. And every night I reach for my phone, knowing that if I call he'll answer. And he'll talk me down and comfort me.
But I can't let him.
"You don't really think I'm falling for that, do you Ope?"
"What?" I ask, acting completely confused in the hopes that it comes off that way.
Rae guides the car into a parking spot outside of Sweet Theory Baking Co. "I've told you plenty of times before to cut the crap with me. You can plaster that fake happiness all you want, but I guess you've forgotten that we've seen real happiness with you." She cuts the engine, pulling her keys from the ignition before dropping them in her purse. "And this," she waves her hand in front of me, "ain't it."
I open my mouth to protest, interrupted by my phone ringing. I pull it from my bag, noticing Laura's photo in the screen. "Hey, chickadee!" I call out with a smile as I answer it on speaker phone.
"What the hell, Opal!"
My face falls, along with my heart. I close my eyes as I already feel the prick of tears forming. His voice normally brings me comfort and warmth, but not this time. Not when I know exactly why he's speaking to me this way.
He knows.
I can hear Rae shift in her seat, taking a deep breath. "Hey, Chris," she says evenly.
"Hey, Rae. Any chance I can have a word alone with her?"
I finally open my eyes, meeting hers, begging her to say no. But instead she looks at me in such a way that reminds me of the saying, 'you've made your bed, now lie in it.' "Sure thing, Chris." She cranks the car once more, leaving the air running for me. "Let me know when you're done." And with that she slips out of the car, leaving me to face the horrible mess I created myself.
At the sound of the door shutting, he speaks up again. "I'm gonna ask again. What the hell, Opal?" his tone grim.
I'm trying to decide if it's worth it to attempt to play ignorant. Worth a shot, right? "What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about! How could you do it?"
"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Chris."
He takes a deep, gruff breath. I can sense his jaw is clenched tightly. "I call BS, but let me refresh your memory. Asking my friend to set me up."
"Oh really? I did that?" I ask, rather than admit.
"Don't play dumb, Opal. You're a smart woman," he pauses and gives the slightest smug chuckle, "well, in most respects."
"Hey!" I exclaim, agitated by his remark.
"Why are you doing this?" he demands.
I drop the cell in the driver's seat and stare out the front window, the last of the orange haze beginning to disappear as the sun sets.
"Answer me, Opal."
The tears begin falling. I make no effort to wipe them away, praying they can cleanse me of the way this conversation makes me feel.
I hear a loud thud from the other end of the phone. I'm guessing his fist has made contact with whatever hard surface he's near. "I deserve an answer!" he yells out.
"Because I love you!" I cry out.