Chapter Twenty-Four

Angie wasn’t sure what was happening right now. But it felt like everything was falling apart—just as she feared it would. And Jace’s comment had thrown her for a loop. Did she think she needed to earn her place?

“The second I proposed to you, it was like you turned into someone different, and I’m struggling to make sense of it,” he said.

“Do you know how many guys would love a fiancée who did those things for them?” She planted her hands on her hips, but then she felt like a toddler having a tantrum. So she dropped them by her sides, but that didn’t feel right, either.

“Most guys would love a fiancée who wasn’t covering up how she felt with fake smiles and who actually wanted to tell people she was engaged.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is the fact that you’re acting like you’re on audition. But you don’t need to. I know what we’ve got between us is something special.”

“Are you sure about that?” It was the doubt deep under her skin, the thorn that wouldn’t stop pricking her. “Are you really sure?”

He blinked. “This is because I told you about Julia, isn’t it? I thought couples were supposed to share their mistakes without judgment.”

“I’m not judging you. I’m afraid you’re going to do the same thing to me that you did to her.”

“For a woman who packed her bags and moved to another country knowing nobody and nothing about where she was going, you sure are afraid of a lot of things at the moment.” He cringed as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

But they were like a slap across her face.

“That came out harsher than I meant.” He held up a hand.

“We should be able to be honest with each other. After all, we haven’t got much time to figure this all out, and if it fails, then I have to leave.” Panic clawed at the back of her throat at the mere mention of it. Dammit. Why did she have to be so emotional? If she could cut her tear ducts out right now, she would.

“Is that what’s gotten you so wound up? The thirty-day thing?”

“There’s nothing like a ticking time bomb to make a girl feel like she can’t mess up,” she muttered. It wasn’t Jace’s fault—she knew that. Hell, it wasn’t even really her fault. But it seemed that running away to Australia hadn’t vanquished her demons after all—it had simply put them to sleep for a bit. But now they were roaring and hungry and demanding more. More doubt, more insecurity, more of the softest parts of her.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect,” Jace said. “That would be pretty bloody hypocritical of me.”

“But if I’m not, then I’m out of options. If I don’t do a good enough job at playing your fiancée, it could mean going back to everything I’ve been trying to escape my whole life.” It was too much pressure—she could see that now. Even with the opportunity laid out in front of her, the fear of losing it all was strangling her. “It’s hanging over me.”

“I get that, but a relationship can’t be based on two people playing a role instead of being themselves. That’s false and insincere.”

Angie’s cheeks were hot. She’d never felt more embarrassed, more like a failure. She had a great guy in front of her who wanted to give things a shot, and she was too messed up to be happy. What if this was a sign that she’d never be able to love someone else? What if everything that had happened—the abandonment of her family, the foster parents who couldn’t handle her, the lawyers who took advantage of her—had left her so broken and so untrusting of both herself and others that she was destined to be alone?

“I like you as you are—I like that rom-coms make you smile and that you’re always fighting to make things better and that you’re talkative and thoughtful. I like that you’ve become part of this town, that you know everyone’s names and what they do and that you’re working hard to beat the things that have held you back.”

“But every time I think I’ve gotten better…I haven’t.” Her breath was coming quicker now, her chest aching. “I’m never good enough.”

“Yes, you are.” He looked so frustrated with her, it made her heart ache. “I don’t know how many times I need to tell you.”

“I have given so many chances in my life and every time, people have walked away.” Her lip trembled, but she dug as deep as she could to hold on to her emotions and crush them down into a little box. “You have no idea, Jace. You grew up with your perfect family who loved you, who supported you. I…I’m not used to that.”

It was like everything could be so good, and the possibility of it terrified her. Because if she screwed up and lost it all, how would she ever recover?

“I know how lucky I am,” he said quietly. While control was doing its best to wriggle out of her grip, he was turning in on himself. Shutting down. She could see it—the light in his eyes dimming, his mouth drawing into an even, flat line. The walls were going up. “You could have had my family care about you, too.”

Could have. Past tense.

A wave of sickness swelled in her belly, threatening to bring up the smoothie she’d had for breakfast. “I wanted this to work.”

“So did I. But you didn’t even give it a chance. Can’t you see what you’re doing? You’re cutting yourself off at the knees, so when it fails you can say, See, I knew that would happen. Instead of actually trying to make it work, you’re doing everything in your power to sabotage it.”

“I’m trying to sabotage it?” How could he say that when all she’d done her whole damn life was try, try, try? Try to make friends, try to find parents who might love her, try to find a new home, try to fit in. “That is the most hurtful thing you could possibly say to me.”

“Don’t you see the pattern?” He looked at her like she was truly lost. Like she was blind. “You left it to the last minute to check on your visa application, by which time it was too late to do anything about it. You create this outrageous plan to fall in love so you can stay, but you pick guys you aren’t really that interested in. Then you have an opportunity with me to really have a go at it…and what? You start shutting me out, focusing on all the wrong things.”

“So it’s all my fault?”

A stone settled in her stomach. But at the same time, she felt…angry. Why didn’t anything come easy?

“The funny thing is, I’ve been feeling like you aren’t being yourself around me. You haven’t been surfing anywhere near as much as normal. Your sketchbooks are nothing but blank pages.” She ticked the items off on her fingers. “You barely touch the breakfast I make for you, and that’s when I find a stupid amount of oats in your cupboard. It didn’t even click until we went for brunch. That’s what you normally eat, but you won’t even tell me something basic like that.”

“What was I supposed to do? Reject this kind gesture?”

“You threw the food in the trash, Jace. It took a few days to figure that out, but I saw it yesterday. I saw you sneaking into the kitchen to do it.” She shook her head. “Why couldn’t you just communicate with me?”

He let out a growl of frustration and turned away from her, which hurt more than anything. It was like he was shutting her out. Pushing her away.

Why wouldn’t he? This whole thing is a complete mess because you’re aiming for something that clearly you’re not destined to have.

But she couldn’t stop herself. “Then you get to the end of the day and you’re hollowed out. Like your brain is somewhere else, and I’ve been in so many houses where people’s eyes glossed over me, Jace. I don’t want that with you. I can’t…live like that.”

He was quiet, his eyes trained on the distance as though he was counting birds in the sky. This was what she was talking about. He shut down sometimes and wouldn’t tell her what he needed. The ridiculous thing was, that whatever he needed, she would give it to him.

“All the change has been…tough,” he admitted, shoving his hands into his pockets. Truffle sniffed around their feet, the end of his leash hooked around Jace’s wrist. “I’m okay messing up my routine for a day here or there, but this has been…a lot.”

“I kept telling you to go work if you needed to. Or to go and do…whatever. I kept giving you options because I didn’t want you to turn your whole life upside down for me.”

But was that exactly what she’d done? Maybe her mere presence was too much. Like it had been for all those families…no matter how hard she tried.

“You were so busy buzzing around my house, doing all these things for me, that I felt like if I wanted time away, that you wouldn’t understand. That you’d take it personally.”

Hadn’t she proven that she would understand? Jace’s quirks took some getting used to, but that wasn’t because of his autism. Everybody had quirks. Everybody had needs mismatched from those around them because they were all unique. Wasn’t that something every couple dealt with?

“And truthfully,” he added, “I wanted you to treat me like you’d treat any person in a relationship. I didn’t want you to see me as different.”

“But you are different, Jace. We all are. Because the only way we’re not different from each other is if we’re freaking cardboard cutouts!”

“Maybe I’m sick of being different,” he said stonily.

“You say that and yet I’m the one sabotaging things.” That comment had really stung.

Did he really believe that all this time she was the reason her life sucked? That she was subconsciously ruining any chance at happiness she might have had?

“You have to believe you deserve to be happy,” Jace said, turning back to her. “And I don’t think you do.”

“Well, then what’s the point in my staying here?” Biting down on the inside of her cheek to help her focus on something other than the giant pain slashing like a scalpel across her heart, Angie hitched the strap holding her yoga mat higher up on her shoulder. “If I’m going to be miserable, I might as well do it in a country where I can stay as long as I like.”

She couldn’t believe Jace thought that she was self-sabotaging. It was like he didn’t even know her.

“Angie, stop.” He reached out for her, but she jerked away. “I don’t want this to end in a fight.”

“I can’t talk to you right now,” she said, backing away from him. “I need some space to clear my head.”

“Don’t run away, okay?” His blue eyes bored into hers, but she looked at the ground. “Please.”

But what else could she do—running away was the only way to make the pain stop. Maybe she should stop trying to find a place to fit in and simply find somewhere to hide. For good. It was clear she wasn’t capable of making anyone happy.

“I’m sorry,” she said, swallowing down every little bit of emotion she felt until it was as if her body had turned to stone. Then she jogged in the direction of home.

Please don’t follow me. Please don’t follow me.

She needed some time to herself, to really think about what she was doing here. About her next steps. Nothing would happen before Friday, because she’d be damned if all her hard work on the proposal went to waste. But then what?

It’s over. You failed.

The words came on a loop, following the thump of her heart.

It’s over. You failed.

She’d let herself down. She’d let Jace down. What was there left to do except go back to America with her tail between her legs—head down, hoping nobody would notice her return? Maybe she could find another country to travel to, keep moving until she found another “dream home” location.

In her heart of hearts, she knew that wouldn’t happen—Patterson’s Bluff was where she wanted to be.

Only Jace wouldn’t want to marry her now. Not when it was clear he thought so little of her—self-sabotaging, indeed. That wasn’t her. She was a trier. A doer. A give-it-a-goer.

And frankly, if he couldn’t even tell her that he wanted to eat plain freaking oats in the morning, then…well, maybe she didn’t want to marry him, either.

When she reached Jace’s house, she glanced behind her. He hadn’t followed—since he’d driven to the retirement home, he would have beaten her there. But he’d obviously decided not to chase after her. Probably for the best—she wasn’t sure what to say to him anyway.

Unfortunately, she had her big meeting with the retirement home’s board to present her plans for the community business partnership, and she refused to leave before getting it over the line. Only she couldn’t stay here now. Not knowing Jace was so close. The meeting was due to take place in three days. She’d call Chloe and ask if she could crash on her couch until then.

She walked down the path alongside his house, letting herself into the backyard via the gate. Her bike was sitting against the fence, where she’d left it—the basket adorned with sunflowers mocking her. It looked so happy, so carefree—designed to have the wind streaming along its colorful body and upright handlebars.

Something wet nudged Angie’s hand. Tilly.

“What are you doing outside, girl? It’s hot today.” There was no fear left when it came to the big black dog. She’d spent her share of time checking in on the old girl after her encounter with the jellyfish. “You’re looking good. Got that sparkle back in your eye.”

Tilly nudged her hand again. Scratch me!

“Yeah, yeah.” Angie found the spot she liked, the one that always made her tongue flop out of her mouth. “You needy thing.”

Tilly made a little grunting noise as if to say, Who, me? Never. Angie crouched down, her heart heavy from all that had transpired. She wrapped her arms around the dog’s neck and pressed her face into the fur. Tilly remained still, letting it happen.

“I’m going to miss you,” she said, her voice scratchy. “And Truffle and Meredith and Jean and Betty. And the ladies who run the coffee shop. And Chloe.”

And Jace.

She couldn’t say it aloud, because that one hurt most of all. And Jace. God, she would miss him like nothing else.

“Things got messed up again,” she whispered. Tilly turned and licked up the side of her face, the gently textured tongue catching all the tears clinging to her cheek. “Like they always do.”

She sat there for a while until the sun made her shoulders roast. And Tilly didn’t budge. Funny how in the end, the one resident of Patterson’s Bluff who’d scared her the most ended up being the most comforting.

…

Jace was still stewing over his fight with Angie the following day. He’d given her time to get home and lock herself away—thinking he was doing the right thing by giving her space. But he’d come home to his worst fears: Angie gone and in her place…a note.

Another fucking note.

He’d unfolded and refolded it so many times, the paper had worn thin along the center crease, tearing at the top.

Dear Jace, I’m sorry things got messed up. I wanted it to work with all my heart. I’ve gone to stay with a friend until I’m finished up at the retirement home.

You’re a great guy, even if you don’t see it. Here’s the thing—all the stuff you worry about are the things I love about you.

I love that you need routine, because I never had that growing up and it comforts me, too. I love that you don’t always know what to say, because I tend to mess up my words as well. I’ve always had trouble expressing myself because I was worried that if I wasn’t smiling and happy, then I wouldn’t be welcome. But you made me feel like an equal. And like maybe you could love all my quirks, too.

Ultimately you deserve someone you can be yourself around. I wish I’d been that person for you.

Angie

The note had been waiting for him in an envelope that also contained his great-grandmother’s ring, her key, and her last month’s rent. He’d wanted to scream and throw the lot at the wall.

Hadn’t he asked her not to run away? They could have talked this through, gotten on the right foot. All he’d needed was some time to compose his thoughts, maybe write himself some notes because things spiraled when he had to improvise and speak from the top of his head.

It was like the rehearsal dinner was happening all over again…but worse. He wanted to be with Angie. That much was evident from the sleepless night he’d spent sitting on his deck and staring at the moon, pretending he was cuddling the dogs for their benefit and not his.

Now his eyes felt like forty-grit sandpaper, and his head was more useless than a bowl of custard. He’d gone over to the flat this morning and found evidence of her everywhere—her trinkets, the painting of the ocean she’d been so excited to buy. All the throw pillows that compensated for his poor decorating skills.

Everywhere he looked around the flat, Angie’s mark was there. The scent of her perfume—that soft and sugary-sweet lemon—lingered as though she’d only just left the room. There was a to-do list on the fridge held with a magnet from The Big Pineapple. Probably written from before she’d started sleeping in the house with him.

This was his fault. Yesterday, instead of thinking about what she needed, he’d gone in with his blunt honesty. Classic Jace—subtle as a sledgehammer. He’d pushed her too hard and she’d run, like he feared she would. For all her smiles and sparkly laughter, Angie had deep wounds. And instead of being a balm, he was salt. Rough, coarse. Painful.

He wanted to kick himself.

In the living room, he found the box of VHS tapes and the old player he’d rescued from under the house. It, too, had a note sitting on top: Sorry I didn’t have time to donate the tapes.

The memory of watching that movie with Angie washed over him—the sound of her laugh, the way she sighed happily and teared up when the characters kissed for the first time, the look of seriousness on her face when she explained why romantic comedies were important. He hadn’t understood it then. But now…

Well, the idea of knowing everything would turn out happily ever after was suddenly appealing.

He pulled the player from the top of the box and plugged it in. Since he had no idea where Angie had gone and she wasn’t picking up his calls—only texting to say she was safe—he had to occupy himself somehow. Jace riffled through the box of movies until he found one called Clueless.

The title certainly seemed fitting to his situation. He pushed the tape into the player and hit the Play button. An hour and a half later, Jace’s mood was a little buoyed. So he reached into the box and looked for something else to watch. The Wedding Singer. Was Drew Barrymore in, like, 90 percent of these movies?

Jace found himself grinning stupidly when Adam Sandler walked down the aisle of the plane, singing and strumming his guitar. Maybe Angie was right, and there was something to these movies.

He put in 10 Things I Hate About You and watched that. More singing. Everybody knew the boom-box trope, so maybe there was something to declaring one’s feelings with song. Too bad Jace had neither a boom box nor a singing voice that would endear him to anyone.

So he watched She’s All That. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d watched so many movies.

Or neglected work and exercise for a whole day for no reason at all.

Truffle and Tilly were waiting by the back door, probably starving. Poor things. He fed them both and then collapsed on the couch, too tired to even walk the extra couple of feet to his bedroom. Knowing Angie was gone zapped all his energy. Without her, what was the point of any of this?

Before Jace could formulate a plan about what to do next, he found his eyes drooping. In that hazy limbo of sleeping and waking, something sparked in the back of his brain. Like a tiny candle flickering to stay alight, an idea shimmered.

What if Hermit didn’t have to be against the world anymore? What if he lived happily ever after?