I blast music while I push my limits on one machine after another. I put on the TV. I even talk to myself in the mirror like a lunatic. But it’s still too quiet. Nothing drowns out the voice in my head telling me I’m being a fuckwad. Not the sweat dripping in my eyes or the pounding of my heart or the acute burn in my muscles.
Nothing makes me miss my girl any less.
I was annoyed my brothers showed up the other day. But now I miss them. I need someone to talk to, but they all kinda hate me right now, and I hate them right back. It’s a disaster, and I don’t know how to fix it.
One problem at a time. I’ll figure out how to get Emma back on the farm and go from there.
Emma is V. I still can’t believe it.
I want her. So badly.
I love her, deeply.
I love being the beta to her alpha.
I love her courage.
I love her adventurousness. I want to be her bastard forever and always.
But we fucked up and now I’m alone in my gym, and I’m worried sick I’ve done things and said things I can never take back or make amends for.
I have to get her back.
An hour and a half later, I’m still shaking, but I’m hoping I’ve exhausted myself to the point that I can get some sleep.
My sister calls. I ignore it. Rhett calls, and I ignore him too. Even Annabel sends me a text, asking if I’m okay, but I don’t respond. I tell myself it’s because I need to focus on Emma. Then I’ll deal with my fucking family.
But deep down I know I’m just hanging on to my rage for dear life.
I get in bed and wait for sleep to come. It doesn’t. I lie there, the silence so loud it screams.
I’m right back where I started.
Alone.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Emma
The next day is bright and warm. Springtime in the North Carolina mountains, where seventy-degree days follow freak snowstorms, and no one bats an eye.
I’m surprised when Lindsey says she’ll stay another night.
“But don’t you have to work?” I ask, trying valiantly to choke down some cereal. It’s the only thing I have in the house for breakfast, and it’s stale.
But even if it were Samuel’s lemon scones, I don’t think I’d be able to eat. I’m nauseous to the point that I wonder if I’ll be able to make the drive up to Blue Mountain without puking.
“I took a few days off to celebrate my promotion.” She tips back her mug. “Needed to charge my batteries before I dive back in, you know?”
I feel a prick of envy, and not the good kind, either. My sister is taking time off to celebrate moving up in her world, while here I am, free-falling through mine. It’s only a matter of time before I hit rock bottom.
Still, I try my best to put on a brave face.
“Good for you,” I say thickly. “I’ll try to get off as early as I can. I’ll bring home some dinner.”
“I got dinner. I’ll make us something good, okay?” She reaches across the sofa and gives my arm a squeeze. “You got this, Em. It only gets better from here.”
I get in the car and blink back tears. I’m nervous about telling the staff I’m quitting. I’m really nervous about running into Hank.
Most of all, I’m nervous about seeing Samuel.
But crying isn’t going to fix my problems. So on the drive up to the farm, I manage not to puke and come up with a plan instead. I make a mental list of people I can call: former managers and restaurant group heads. My friends at the big box wine store in West Jefferson—maybe I can land there while I figure out my next move. Fellow sommeliers at the top restaurant and wine spots downtown.
Do I want to stay in Asheville, though? I’ve lived in the mountains for more than a decade. I’ve lived in the Carolinas my whole life. I love it here.
But maybe it’s time for a change. Nashville has a booming hospitality scene. There’s always Charleston too. Would it be wrong if I gave Elijah Jackson a call? I could ask Beau if he’d be cool with it.
The freefall happens inside my chest too, when I think about that being the last conversation I have with Beau.
How many more times will I get to drive through the resort’s front gate?