Page 45 of Romantic

“Okay, well . . . then,” I fumble with my words. “Good. Good for you.”

I lift a sobbing Pepper who collapses on my chest like a toddler. “C’mon Pep, let’s go.”

As I carry her out, I see Jack striding through the main door. “Whoa!” he says, holding the door for us. “You’ve got your arms full.” It’s a good thing I’m carrying Pepper, or I’d knock that smile off his face. I detest how angry I am. How out of control I feel.

I carry her through the rain to the shelter of the gazebo in the gardens. “Now what was that about?” I ask as I set Pepper down on a bench. “You know better than to make a scene like that.”

“Annie can’t leave. She belongs with us. She loves you!” Pepper’s still crying hysterically. I have no idea what to do or say to calm her down. “You love her! And stupid Jack is going to ruin it all.” I feel all of Pepper’s hurt twice over and then some. I feel my own hurt, plus hers, as well as a deep remorse. I should have never let her get so close to Annie. I knew better. There’s a reason that I’ve been so cautious about dating. I shouldn’t have let Annie tag along on all our family outings. I’m realizing everything too late.

“I’ll never be happy again!” Pepper moans, and I feel it. Losing Annie is like losing the sunshine. But . . . I’ve lost someone I loved before. I’ve been through the darkness of deep loss, and I know that eventually the light returns. It does. I know. I keep telling myself this, but I can’t stomach the thought of going through it again.

“Oh, Pep! We’ll be okay. It’s hard when friends leave but . . .”

“You’re such a liar. You’re as upset as I am. Probably more.” She’s right. Inside, my feelings rage like a winter storm.

“Pepper!” It’s Annie. I turn around, and she’s running toward us, her hair damp in the rain. Hell! I can’t handle her right now.

“Haven’t you done enough already?” My words ring with anger. “Leave us alone!”

Annie stops in place, pain in her eyes. Good. There’s no way her bruised feelings can come close to the hole she just blasted through my heart.

“I just want to talk to Pepper. She needs to know that I’m coming back.”

“No. I’m sorry, Annie, but I’ve got to protect my daughter. She has this idea . . . that you and I—”

“I know . . .” she nods. “I understand that’s not going to happen. But we can still be friends, can’t we?”

“Friends?”

“Yes . . . you and I. And Pepper . . . I love you all so much.” My stupid heart leaps at this statement. I know she just means as friends, but she has no business saying this to me. It gives me hope when it shouldn’t. I close my eyes.

“No, Annie. I don’t think we can. I knew better than to have you spend so much time with us . . . it has blown up spectacularly.”

“I . . . I’m sorry.” And now Annie’s crying in the rain. I can’t deal with her tears right now. How dare she cry? She should be happy. She’s leaving with her “true love” and literally sailing off into the sunset.

“We’re going home,” I say to Pepper. She nods and stands up, wiping her tears with her rain jacket. We walk away, leaving Annie to cry in the hotel garden.

After a few minutes, Pepper stops. “Dad, you look like you need a hug.”

Her arms wrap around me as I say, “I do, Pepper, I really do.”

But I cannot stay here long.—Sense and Sensibility

14

Annie

Through the blur of the rain and my tears, I watch Pepper and Brandon walk away. I’ve messed everything up. I’ve hurt two people I care about, and Brandon’s angry at me. The thought of Brandon being upset with me feels unbearable.

“What was that all about?” Jack asks, walking up from behind me with an umbrella.

“Pepper’s disappointed that I’m not moving to Redwood City.”

“Fair enough. I’d throw a tantrum if I lost you.”

He runs a finger down the curve of my cheek. “Poor little thing. But I need you all for myself.”

“Do you think we could go sooner?” I ask, feeling a little desperate. I don’t think I can bear seeing Pepper and Brandon around the park. “Could we go tomorrow?”