A Brand New Ending (Page 59)

Ophelia cleared her throat and tried to take control of the conversation. “Well, we’re not really officially together yet. Kyle will be going back to Hollywood soon, and we—”

“We’ll work it out. Love always wins. Right, Bea?”

A sharp kick to his calf made him wince.

Yep. She was pissed, and he was going to hear about it later.

“That’s right. Now let me get those orders. Mia, I found another client for your PR company. She needs an entire marketing plan and website set up.”

“Wonderful.”

“Want your regular salad?” she asked Mia.

“Tuna on wheat, please.”

“Good choice.” She took the rest of their orders and floated away.

For the rest of the dinner, they kept the topics light and airy, but Kyle never let go of Ophelia’s hand, and she never tried to let go of his.

It was enough.

Later that night they lay naked, wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire. The scents of wood and smoke and warm apple pie drifted in the air.

Muscles limp with satisfaction, Ophelia stared into the crackling flames and voiced the question she had always wondered about: “Did you ever think about how it ended between us?”

His muscles tensed beneath her, but his voice was steady. “All the time. I went over both of our decisions like a statistician, trying to figure out what move would have changed the outcome.” He sat in silence for a while. She waited, sensing he was gathering his thoughts. “I blamed you for leaving, you know. Even though I showed up too late.”

“I know. But you’d broken so many promises by that point, I couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t handle one more fight, or lonely dinner, or crying alone in bed because you slept at the production company’s office again. I realized then we had grown so far apart, you had no room in your life for me any longer.” She paused. “You know what I dreamed about? For days and nights after I left?” she asked.

“What?”

“I dreamed you would come after me.”

His voice was a whisper of sound, fluttering against her nerve endings. “And I dreamed you would come back.”

He stroked her hair, his fingers tugging through the waves with a sensuality that melted her. “What’s going to happen this time?” she asked.

He let out a breath, staring down at her bare breasts with a lusty look of reverence she’d never get tired of. After she’d left California, sex had meant nothing. It was a bodily function she’d indulged in sparingly with partners who never got past the surface. Now it was an all-encompassing need that throbbed through her and demanded she satisfy it with total abandon. It was beyond physical; it reached to long-neglected places she’d thought numb. It was a total rebirth—and it scared the living hell out of her.

“I want to figure it out together,” he said. “I don’t want a divorce.”

“I can’t live there again, Kyle,” she said honestly. “I’m afraid we’ll end up back at the same exact place—loving each other but wanting two different lifestyles.”

“Right now, I want to soak in every moment with you without worrying about the future. We still have five weeks left. Let me finish the book and enjoy my time with you. Then we’ll make some decisions together. Can we do that?”

She tilted her head and smiled up at him. She was so tired of trying to figure things out in neat, logical order. For the first time, she wanted to feel again—to give everything to the moment without regret. Her heart was finally open.

She wished Kyle could give that same chance to his father. She’d been thinking of Patrick lately, and trying to find a way for Kyle to take that first step toward truly hearing him out.

“Yes. But I want you to think about visiting your dad.”

He flinched. “Why is it so important to you?”

“I just don’t want you to turn your back on an opportunity to heal some wounds. You can’t change the past, but forgiveness can affect your future. I’ve forgiven you, and now we have a second chance. Doesn’t your father deserve one, too?”

His voice held the slightest shakiness. “What if I can’t forgive?”

She held him tight. “Then at least you tried.”

A ragged sigh escaped his chest. “I ran into his AA sponsor in town.”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “When?”

“Several mornings ago. His name’s Tony. Met him getting fish at Fran’s. He recognized me and introduced himself.”

Her hands stroked his arm soothingly. “What did he say?”

A rough laugh escaped his lips. “Called my dad an asshole. Told me he has a ton of regrets and talks about me a lot. Then he invited me to attend his one-year anniversary of being sober. I don’t know—it was a lot to handle.”

“I bet. But it also sounds like the Patrick I’ve been seeing. He’s definitely changed. And though I get why you’d say no, I’m still asking if you’ll try. Just once.”

She held her breath, hating the thought of hurting him. Her gut instinct told her Kyle needed to see this new version of his dad—even if afterward he decided to walk away and never see him again.

“I have a deal for you. I’ll think very seriously about seeing my father if you think very seriously about singing at Crystal’s.”

Startled, she stared at him. “Why do you want me to sing so badly?”

“Because it’s part of who you are. Because I’ve seen how it brings you joy. And because I think you don’t realize it doesn’t have to be like the past. With what Albert is offering, this time you can sing for you, Ophelia. Not for me, or the cameras, or because you feel you need to prove it to anyone. Just for you.”

The memory hit her full force. Being torn apart in the press. Gossip rags writing lies about why she quit the show, citing her thirst for attention and her endless bitchy demands.

“It was so hard,” she said softly. “The story blew up and, suddenly, I couldn’t even go out. People would yell and make comments, and my social media feeds exploded with cruelty. I was all alone. Every time I tried to tell you, you made me feel like it was my fault for quitting.”

Raw pain flickered over his features, along with regret. “I was wrong,” he said. “I was more concerned about my damn agent being pissed than I was about what you were going through. All I can tell you is that I see things now I never did before. I would never hurt you again. I swear it, baby.”

She studied his beloved face and slowly nodded. Truth rang from his voice and his gaze. “Okay. I’ll think about singing for Albert.”

“Okay.”

A sense of peace washed over her. His answer was a gift, because she knew it would cost him a lot to see his father. And if she was being honest, she’d been thinking of Albert’s offer all day, wondering if it was time to truly leave the past behind.

He rocked her gently in his arms, and she heard the distant sound of music like she always did when her mind quieted down—a constant companion since childhood.

“Will you do something for me, Ophelia?”

He pressed a kiss on the bare curve of her neck and she arched, her breasts warmed by the fire.

“Of course.”

“Will you sing for me? Like you used to.”

The request was bittersweet—a haunting memory of when they’d lain together in the barn, stealing time and kisses, falling into each other. She’d sing to him, wrapping them in a cocoon of beauty as fragile and strong as a spider’s web.