then you came too, and what I thought was going to be a quiet place to write has turned into a raucous family vacation!”
Hope knew deep down that Gemma loved the twins, but she couldn’t deny the sting of her sister’s words. “I thought it would be nice for us to all spend some quality time together, as sisters.”
“It would be. But not until this book is finished,” Gemma said. “I don’t think you understand—”
“Oh, I understand,” Hope said, giving her sister a long look. “I did have a career too, once. And I understand when I’m not wanted.”
“I just wish you had mentioned that you wanted to come too—”
“Because then you wouldn’t have come? I do own a third of this house.” Hope tried to keep the hurt from creeping into her tone. “And I have been preparing the family meals, too.”
Now, she wondered why she bothered. It was a thankless job, no matter where she went. “Besides, when was the last time we were all together?” She shook her head. “Forget I asked. You’re right. I shouldn’t have come.”
She could leave. Take the ferry back on Monday. She could be back in time for Cindy’s daughter’s fifth birthday party next weekend. She realized with sudden panic that she hadn’t RSVP’d before she’d left and now she wouldn’t have to worry about canceling.
Still, she waited for Gemma to call after her, to say something, anything that would lessen the ache in her chest as she made her way back down to the second floor, the floorboards creaking underneath her. But instead, all Gemma did was close the door, reminding Hope that she was all alone when it came to this parenting thing, and that her dreams of a fun time with her sisters had been as much a pipe dream as her desire to have a career of her own.
And while she hadn’t thought much of the argument between Gemma and Ellie last night, today she had to agree. It was time to sell Sunset Cottage. It was nothing like it used to be.
Chapter Ten
Gemma
Gemma only stopped writing when she glanced up through the window and saw a figure crossing the front lawn. A shirtless figure. A handsome figure. A distracting figure, not that she entirely minded.
She looked down at her word count in the bottom corner of screen, closing her eyes in relief with what she saw. Yes, she’d spent another day avoiding the main point of the story and focusing instead on the filler scenes, but it was something, and she could call it a productive day, mostly because Hope had decided to vacate the house with the twins for an extended period of time, both before and after their naps, and Ellie had yet again left the house before even the twins were awake—and when they woke up, the entire house knew it.
She felt bad about her argument with Ellie last night. And the words she had exchanged with Hope earlier. But she also couldn’t take back what she’d said, either. And she certainly wasn’t complaining about how much she’d accomplished when the house was so empty.
Deciding that she was at a stopping point, she saved her document and closed her laptop. Then, for inexplicable reasons, silly really, she walked into her en suite bathroom, brushed her hair into a neater ponytail, and changed from her pajama pants and tank top to cut-off jean shorts and a cotton pleasant blouse.
Confidence, she told herself. It was something she hadn’t felt in a while, not since Sean decided that she wasn’t the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with after all.
Five months later, it still hurt, and with each day closer to her wedding day, the more it brought up all those bad feelings she’d experienced when the breakup was raw and the pain was fresh. The date was now four weeks from tomorrow. Did he still have it on his calendar? Had he forgotten?
Would he even think of her at all? Would he stop and think, even for one second, that he had made a mistake? He’d already picked out his tie. And together they’d selected matching wedding bands—platinum, to match the engagement ring she’d returned to him two weeks after he ended their relationship.
And the honeymoon, the trip to Paris, the one that she had dared to think might be the setting for her third novel, would he cancel it? Or would he go? One thing was for certain: she wouldn’t be