Chapter 58 Grace Nash

Give it to Amelia

Five Months After the Wedding

"It's so good to see you back in here, Nana," I say as I walk into the tasting room.

It's been a week since her health scare, and she's supposed to be taking it easy—which she is. Dad brought her recliner in so she has somewhere to rest back behind the counter, and her feet are up as she reads a magazine when I spot her.

We don't have any guests in yet, but it's early. They'll come.

"Where's Spencer?" she asks. "Haven't seen that cutie pie around here in weeks."

"He's in season, Nana. Remember?" I say it gently, and it worries me that she's confused again.

"Oh, right. Silly me. But I remember him coming by when he was in season to visit your sister." She says the words pointedly, as if she's pointing out the fact that her memory is just fine. "As I recall, he usually had Monday and Tuesday off, and he'd come by."

"He's in San Diego now. It's not quite so easy to get here."

She raises her brows. "Then why are you here? "

"Excuse me?"

"Honey, I've been around the block once or twice. I know how these things work. You're here, he's there, something's wrong. He played in Miami this past weekend, fine. But why weren't you at his first game of the season the week before that?"

I sigh. I didn't want to get into this—especially not with her—but maybe it's time she knew the truth. "I'm afraid to leave. I'm afraid Amelia will do something that will give her an edge when I'm working so hard to prove that it should be mine."

"Sounds to me like you're putting the vineyard first." She presses her lips together.

"Is…isn't that what you want for this place?"

She shakes her head, puts the recliner down, and pushes to a stand. She's a little unsteady on her feet, but overall, she's making great progress. "No, honey," she says, and she stops in front of me. She rests her hand on my forearm. "I want someone who has a real, true partner that can help manage everything that comes with a winery. I want someone who can raise a family here and see a future here. What I don't want is someone who's willing to sacrifice all that for this place. This?" She holds a hand up. "It's just a place. It's important, and it's a legacy, but it's not everything. And I'm afraid I've sent you the completely wrong message if that's what you took out of it."

Her words pulse a new thought in me.

Am I throwing everything away for this vineyard?

I may have inadvertently pushed him away when I was trying harder to hold onto the vineyard than I was to him.

But what good is the vineyard if I don't have him?

I've been so busy with the fight here that I've neglected other areas of my life—the most important area, if I'm being honest.

And I realize only after hearing her words that every time I think of the future of this place, I picture him as part of it.

I don't want to inherit Newlywed if I don't get to stand on my back deck watching my children in the old tire swing while my husband presses a glass of malbec into my palm.

Tears spring behind my eyes as I realize what I've done .

"You're right," I finally say, and I pull her into my arms and squeeze her tightly. "I've been trying so hard to beat Amelia so you would see I'm the obvious choice to inherit this wonderful land that I forgot that it isn't worth inheriting if I don't have Spencer." I pull back and shake my head as her eyes meet mine.

I realize something else, too.

If I walk away, Amelia will stop. She'll stop feeding details to the media. She'll stop having paparazzi follow Spencer everywhere. She'll stop making our lives miserable.

She'll stop coming between us.

All I want is to have a future with Spencer. The love we share is way more important than the dream I once had to run the vineyard, and all it took was one conversation with Nana to realize it.

"You should give the vineyard to Amelia. I have to go."

Her eyes twinkle as she nods. She squeezes me once more, and then I race over to my bungalow. I check flights to San Diego, and there's one that leaves in ninety minutes—just enough time to get to the airport, park, and make it onto the plane.

I book the ticket.

I toss some clothes into my backpack along with my toothbrush and a few essentials, and then I hop in my car and rush toward the airport. It's a race against the clock as I hit some traffic. The minutes seem to tick by more quickly than their usual sixty seconds, and I pull into the parking garage that lets me know it'll cost me thirty bucks a day.

Fine. Worth it.

I find a space and race toward the terminal.

Why security has a line at one-thirty in the afternoon on a Monday is beyond me, but here we are.

I tap my foot as I wait, wishing I would've been smart enough to book an appointment to get my TSA pre-check done so I didn't have to wait in this line.

It's a five-minute wait that feels like freaking forever , and then I'm randomly selected for the Explosive Trace Detection test. The agent selected to swab my hands certainly isn't in the same rush I happen to be in, but I force myself to smile and bear it as nerves race through my spine that I'm not going to make it.

I run through the airport to my gate, which naturally is all the way at the end of my terminal, and my flight is still boarding.

Thank God.

I'm panting from my sprint across the airport as I get in line. I blow out a huge breath as I try to calm down, but my heart is racing and I'm nervous and excited all at the same time.

Did I really just do that?

Did I just tell Nana to give the vineyard to Amelia?

I did.

I don't want it if it's at the expense of my relationship with Spencer, and I feel positively sure in that decision, even if it's the most terrifying thing I've ever done.

I take my seat, and that's when my mind starts to race with all the thoughts I didn't give myself the time to consider.

What if I get there and he doesn't want me?

What if I just told Nana to give the vineyard to Amelia, only to lose both my dream and my husband on the same day?

If that's what happens, so be it. I refuse to live my life with regrets, and the biggest regret of all would be throwing away the beautiful thing Spencer and I have built.

We have challenges in front of us, and we have hills to climb. But if we can do that hand-in-hand, then we can overcome all of it.

I hold onto that optimism with everything inside me.

I keep it close to my heart for the entire flight and the Lyft ride over to Spencer's complex.

I hold it tight as I flash my ID at the front desk, as they check for my name on Spencer's list of approved guests, and as I wait for the elevator up to his penthouse.

But when I knock on the door and he doesn't answer…I feel it starting to slip away.

I shouldn't have assumed he'd be home without calling first. He's a busy man, and he has a lot going on. But I thought maybe he'd be at home doing Lego sets on his day off.

Instead, I can't help but think he's out trying to find some way to move on from what we had .

I can't help but think he's already moved on. It felt like everything was falling into place, like he'd have to be here waiting for me to arrive after I made this realization and somehow managed to make my flight and ended up right here.

But he's not, and somehow that feels significant and awful.

I lean against the door and slide down it until I'm sitting on the floor, and I let that bubble of optimism shatter into a million pieces all around me.