According to my father, Alex should still be in Dark River now, banished from Napa and from me, already planning how to spend his payout. Sent home with his signed agreement and instructions to forget I exist.
I stare out the window, watching vineyards and the Napa River pass in autumn-muted colors, trying to figure out how everything got so supremely fucked up. Just over a week ago I was maybe the happiest I'd ever been, and a good part of that was because of Alex.
Margot glances over at me, her expression worried. "Are yousureyou want to go straight to Solstice? You can stay at my place in town tonight, give yourself some time to process before you have to face anyone. Order terrible takeout and drink wine and watch bad TV until you figure out what you want to do."
I shake my head, forcing myself to sit up straighter. "No, but thank you. The pop-up starts back up tomorrow and I need to prep this afternoon. Check deliveries, get the walk-inorganized, make sure the team is ready. Maybe it'll help me figure out what to do next. Cooking usually does."
"Are you going to call Alex?" She asks. "Hear what he has to say?"
I shift in my seat, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around them. "Yes, but I think I need to cool off first. I'm so pissed at my dad right now, and at Alex for taking the money. Like what, he expects us to pretend we broke up while actually staying together? And should I even go back to New York? Do Iwantto? Everything feels so confusing."
She reaches over and squeezes my knee briefly before returning her hand to the wheel. "This is a lot. Like, an objectively insane amount of family drama and financial manipulation and romantic chaos all at once. You're allowed to not have answers yet."
We crest over the last hill before Solstice and the estate appears below us in all its glory. The vineyards stretch out in perfect rows, the leaves turning rust and deep burgundy in the afternoon light, and the stone building sits at the center of it all like something from a European postcard.
Margot pulls into the parking area and my heart stops.
Alex is there.
Leaning against his rental car parked near the main entrance, his arms crossed over his chest, his whole body radiating tension as he watches the road. Waiting. For me, apparently.
"What the hell?" I say, my voice coming out strangled. "I thought he was supposed to be in Dark River."
Margot leans forward, squinting through the windshield. "Well, he's definitely here. Maybe he came back to explain?"
"Explain what?" My voice comes out bitter, sharp. "That two and a half million dollars was too good to pass up? That he's sorry but a restaurant mattered more? That it wasn't personal, just business?"
She pulls into a parking spot a few spaces away from his car and cuts the engine. Alex straightens when he sees us, his whole body going alert, and even from this distance I can see the intensity in his expression, the way he's focused entirely on me.
He looks unfairly good for someone who might have just destroyed my life. Grey henley, dark jeans, his hair slightly disheveled like he's been running his hands through it, tall and broad and standing there in the late afternoon light like he's in a cologne ad. A heartbreaker, as they say. I just don't know yet if he's about to break my heart or if he already did and I'm only now catching up to the damage.
And even with all the confusion, all the anger and hurt and doubt swirling through me, part of me wants to run straight into his arms. Wants him to tell me this is all a misunderstanding, that my father is lying, that the money doesn't mean what I think it means. I want to feel his arms around me, solid and safe, the way they were every night when we fell asleep tangled together.
But wanting something doesn't make it real. And I've spent too many years wanting my father's approval to not know that lesson by heart.
Margot and I sit there in the car, staring through the windshield like the glass is the only thing protecting us from having to deal with reality.
"What do I do?" I ask quietly, not really expecting an answer, just needing to say it out loud.
"What does your gut tell you?" Margot turns in her seat to face me fully, her expression serious.
"My gut is confused and possibly nonfunctional at this point." I slump back against the seat, exhausted from the red-eye and the emotional whiplash. "Also slightly nauseous from airport coffee and existential dread, so not exactly a reliable narrator right now."
"Okay, then what does your heart tell you?" she asks gently.
I can feel tears threatening at the corners of my eyes. "My heart is an idiot who still wants to believe he has a good explanation for all of this. My heart wants him to be the person I thought he was."
"Hearts usuallyareidiots." She reaches over and squeezes my hand. "But sometimes they're right anyway. Look, you're going to torture yourself trying to guess what happened based on incomplete information. And between your father and Alex, one of them has a long history of manipulative, controlling behavior. The other one doesn't. I'm not saying you should trust him blindly, but I think it's worth hearing him out before you decide anything."
She's right. I know she's right. But knowing something intellectually and actually doing it are very different things.
I take a deep breath, then another one, then unbuckle my seatbelt before I can talk myself out of it.
We both get out of the car and Alex straightens immediately, his whole body going alert like a switch flipped. But he doesn't move from where he's standing. He just watches me, his hands dropping to his sides, patient and still. Waiting for me to come to him.
Margot walks around the car and pulls me into a quick, fierce hug.
"I'll be inside if you need me," she murmurs against my hair, her arms tight around my shoulders. "Text if you want me to come out here."