Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

My feet ached, my legs were sore, and my heart was broken. What a lovely way to start the morning. The sun was already shining. I shouldn’t be surprised I was already up; I never did get rid of my midwestern roots. In California, I was an early riser, up before the sun, but I guess a part of me never did leave home.

My room looked exactly the same as the night I left, containing a twin bed that was hell to sleep on now that I was used to a king size, a small little table that I used as a desk, and a tiny closet that wouldn’t even fit one third of my belongings now.

Dammit, where am I going to put all my shit?

Victor was supposed to mail my things to me; it was the least he could do for not warning me I was sleeping with Mr. I’m-one-fuck-away-from-having-my-dick-fall-off. Thank God, my test came back clean. I’d probably be in jail for murder if it had come back with something. I sucked up my soreness and made Grandpa some breakfast. It was the least I could do after showing up here without warning.

“You always were an early riser. Even as a kid, you didn’t know the meaning of sleeping in on the weekends.”

My throat clogged when I looked at the only father I’d ever known. Last night, it was hard to see through my tears, but now in the daylight, it was clear that I had failed him. The money I sent him every week was not what he needed.

He needed me.

I used to look up to him; he was as tall as a mountain—at least to me. He was my everything. I swallowed back the lump of guilt upon looking at him. Wrinkled and older, he didn’t seem that strong and invincible anymore. When I left, he was tall. Now he was a little hunched, and his hair was completely white, but the smile he gave me was the same one he always had just for me.

“Well, what can you expect when you would wake me up at the crack of dawn by making a ruckus. I’m a light sleeper. I’m just the product of your creation.”

He made his way to the table as I put the plate in front of him. “You ain't eating?”

“I need coffee first. Then I can start my morning.”

He shook his head but dug into his plate. When I left San Francisco, I had no idea what I was going to do. I just knew that I couldn’t be in a town where I was being ridiculed behind my back. It was funny how I came back home where all my life I was belittled. Initially, I hoped this could be a stop on the way to my next big dream, but looking at my grandpa, I knew I couldn’t leave him.

Not again.

I was stuck here for the time being, and the idea terrified me, because the longer I stayed here, the more likely the chance of running into him became. You couldn’t hide in a small town. It could take a few days, but by the end of the week, you always ran into everyone. Sunny Pines was a small town. We were somewhere in between Port Wing and Superior. There was only Highway 13; the rest were small-town roads. Unless I planned on hiding in this trailer, which did sound appealing, I was going to see a few faces I never thought I’d see again. I needed coffee, and that was just the start of the things I was going to need.

Then it occurred to me, hell, maybe he didn’t even live here anymore. Perhaps he left this town and was doing much better at life than I was.

He deserved it.

He deserved everything.

It would be easy to ask Grandpa what happened to him, but it was better if I never spoke of him again. The damn guilt of what I did to him was going to kill me before the week was over, I just knew it.

“You’re not going to ask?” I asked when I couldn’t stand it anymore. My grandpa acted like we had breakfast together every morning. Like I didn’t up and leave him in the middle of the night without saying goodbye .

“Figured you’d tell me when you were ready. Or we don’t have to talk about it.”

I was tapping my hands on the old wooden table since I didn’t have a coffee to sip. “So, it’s like that? I come back home, and it’s like nothing ever happened?”

“You’re home safe and sound, all I care ’bout.” Grandpa shrugged and kept on eating. I cleaned up after him, and when he said he was going into town, I decided I also needed to go and face it head-on. It was noon already, and I didn’t have an ounce of caffeine in me, and that was sinful. I should be worried that Grandpa didn’t like coffee who didn’t love coffee? I was surprised his old, red truck still worked. So many memories in that truck. I didn’t appreciate it then, but my grandpa taught me to drive when I was fifteen, giving me my first taste of independence.

“So, what’s new in town?” I asked as I stared out the window, watching the green grass blowing in the wind. I bet I was a sight—brown hair blowing, wearing a navy blue pantsuit with a white silk blouse and black stilettos sitting inside a truck that was so rusted it was a miracle the wind didn’t blow it apart. Grandpa had made a face when I walked out of the trailer but didn’t say anything. I was not the girl who grew up here, the one who had wild hair and wore combat boots and tight jeans like it was her religion. I was no longer the girl the town referred to as trailer trash.

“You know the folks ’round here ain't too fond of change. There’s a hippy coffee shop that opened up ’bout two years ago.” I rolled my eyes. Anything that wasn’t your status quo around here was either hippyish or liberal. “The Millers’ daughter opened it up after she came back from college.”

That was cool. I liked Emma Miller. She was one of the few girls back in high school who didn’t look at me like I was covered in shit. Naturally, I told Grandpa to make the hippy coffee shop our first stop.

I stopped breathing for a second at the sight of the massive building that wasn’t there when I left town. “Dunnett Industries,” the massive sign read. The Dunnetts owned half the town. Mr. Dunnett was a savvy businessman who had his finger dipped in a little bit of everything.

“What’s that?” I croaked.

“Oh... the Dunnetts were able to get a contractor to settle its roots here. It’s some type of technological warehouse; provides work for many families around the area.”

I didn’t ask more, didn’t say more. The past was better off left in the past, right?

When we made it to Main Street, it seemed like time stood still in this part of town. The white kiosk was surrounded by beautiful flowers and trees, and stores surrounded the park. He parked in front of the hardware store, telling me that the hippy shop was just on the other side of the kiosk. I could see the building; it was bright yellow and stood out from all the white ones.

I grabbed my bag and stood tall and proud, even though my feet were killing me from yesterday’s adventure. When I opened the door to Emma’s Coffee, it was heaven. It smelled like coffee grounds and baked goods. I was surprised by the long line. Since I was going to be stuck here for a bit, I took a moment to look around. There were small tables all along the walls, all with books on them. A smile broke across my face. From what I remembered, Emma loved to read; she always had her head stuck in a book. The far wall was black. Looking more closely at it, I realized it was a giant chalkboard. On the top, it had a quote of the day—today’s being: Don’t let yesterday dictate your tomorrow. Those words spoke to me, like I was meant to see them. The girl I used to be was not the woman I was today; it made my shoulders relax a little bit and my breathing a bit more comfortable. Still waiting, I decided to pull out my phone and turn it back on. It had been off since I ran in on my ex-boyfriend with his secretary. Afterward, I had stayed at a hotel and gave work the number so they could contact me there. As soon as the phone was on, it started dinging with messages, missed calls, and voice mails. This was going to be stressful.

“Hello, what can I get you?” Emma smiled at me. She was still sweet looking, with a curvy frame, blonde hair that reminded me of sunrise, and the most adorable dimples.

“It’s my first time here, so what do you recommend? I want something sweet but strong.”

“I got the perfect thing for you.” She went to work on my drink. Meanwhile, I deleted any message that had to do with Ashton.

Ashton: Really, Freya, you left town without giving us a chance to talk things out ?

Yes, I was just going to leave like that. What was Ashton going to explain to me? That it was an accident? Oh yes, Ash, I forgive you. The winds in our apartment must have been so strong that it made you fall dick deep in your assistant’s pussy. I understand completely.

As if, asshole.

“Here you go. It’s a cookies and cream mocha.”

When I took a sip of the beverage, it was like being reborn again. “This drink is fantastic!” I raved, making Emma blush.

“Do I know you?”

I considered lying for a second, but I braved it out.

“It’s me, Freya Pratt.” I stuffed my mouth with more cookies and mocha to avoid awkward silence, but there was none.

“Oh my God, I knew you looked familiar.”

I smiled, not knowing what else to say. I stepped aside while she took care of her other customers.

“How long are you in town for?”

“For a while,” I replied vaguely. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to go before my grandpa decides to leave me.” I waved bye and walked out like my ass was on fire. I needed to get all my stuff before I ran into someone I didn’t want to see. Gossip spread fast in a small town. It was like playing telephone; by the end, the story was so far from the truth. I could just imagine. They’d probably add a husband and a pregnancy or make me out to be a mistress with a sugar daddy.

Grandpa was already waiting for me in the truck. As soon as I climbed in, he muttered something about coffee not needing to be all fancy-schmancy. I disagreed but didn’t comment. When we stopped at the supermarket, he decided to wait in the car. Figured.

I was on the meat aisle when the unfortunate happened. That unfortunate had a name—Jana Moore. I know I said the past was the past, but there was a type of history that just clung to you.

“Love the outfit, very chic. If I weren't carrying around a beach ball in my stomach, I would copy that look.”

I was weighing my options. I could ignore her and pretend like she didn’t exist, and that would make me feel better, but only for a bit. If I was planning on staying in Sunny Pines for a while, being amicable with Jana, one third of the town’s darlings, would be essential. So, I plastered on the same fake smile I gave Ashton when I told him to go fuck himself before I ran out of our loft.

“Thank you. Fashion is my job.” Or was part of my job. I took my vacations and paid time off; beyond that, I had no idea what I was going to do, but I was not going to think on that right now. “Jana, you’re glowing. Pregnancy suits you.” That wasn’t so much of a lie. She did look stunning. If you were to look at her from behind, you wouldn’t even guess she was carrying. She was dressed cutely in a long maxi skirt and a V-neck blouse.

“Oh my God! Freya Pratt… you look… good. I have no words… wow.”

Bitch .

Of course, I didn’t say that out loud. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from telling her off. She, Abigail, and Juliet where never nice to me.

“God, it's been how long? Almost a decade. Time sure flies by.” Jana looked me up and down, and I had to admit it felt good. She probably couldn’t believe the chick she made fun of all through high school and called trash was standing in front of her and she complimented her outfit. As fun as this trip down memory lane was, I wanted to leave.

“It was lovely to see you, Jana. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Of course. What else is there to do in a small town? Wait, are you back because of the wedding?”

My stomach dropped at the W-word, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

“Excuse me?” I said against my better judgment, a part of me knew I did not want the answer to that particular question. Yet, I couldn’t help but ask it. Jana’s glee left for a second, then she waved it off.

“Oh, nothing, just you know, Abigail Newton is getting married. The whole town is invited. You know how it is, the Newtons like to do everything big.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask Jana about her and Gary Newton. They were high school sweethearts, but if she was a Newton, then whatever I said could get back to Abigail. Like the Dunnetts, the Newtons were wealthy. The difference was that none of the Newtons had any redeeming qualities; both offspring were arrogant, prepotent assholes .

“See you around, Jana.” I made a hasty exit. I wasn’t in the mood for any more encounters. I was drained and needed another one of those delicious coffees, but I knew Grandpa wasn’t going to be in the mood to drive back so I could get my fix.