But I'd still give it all away in a heartbeat and live a simple life rather than be tied to the life that created the money in the first place.
I return my focus to the blue door in front of me and push my key into the lock. The door creaks open, and I get my first glimpse of the inside of my new home.
I'm instantly in love.
Despite the setting sun, the interior remains bright due to all the windows. Beach-themed colors and furniture fill the small space. Straight ahead is a set of glass french doors that lead onto a deck, with stairs that go straight onto the sand.
I've only been to the beach once in my whole life, so to now have it as my backyard is surreal. I tour the rest of the house; two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small kitchen, and a laundry room. Perfect. It's exactlywhat I was hoping for when I bought it without even looking at it first.
My phone pings once again as I reach into my bag to pull out the bbq chips I got on my last stop. Stuffing a few of them into my mouth, I open the text from my mother.
Mom: I do wish you'd give Nathan another chance.
I let out a scoff, turning my phone off without replying.
“A second chance,” I mutter as I roll my eyes.
I didgive him a second chance. I'm a big believer of second chances. We're only human, after all. I gave him the benefit of the doubt when those suggestive pictures of him and another woman surfaced more than once. I've been the victim of that type of thing as well.
But I drew the line at giving him any more chances when I walked in on him with Candace andMegan. The very ones that texted me earlier. None of them saw me. They still don't know that I saw them. But boy did I get quite the show from the three of them.
At least it didn't break my heart. It wasn't in his hands to do that, to begin with. But any time someone else is chosen over you, it's still a hit to your ego no matter what. He chose to screw my “friends” and who knows who else, instead of me. Instead of continuing a life with me.
Then the asshole had the nerve to try and make mefeel guilty about breaking it off with him and upsetting his parents. Mine, too, for that matter.
That was the last straw before I got a longtime family friend, Henry – who is actuallya friend and not a fake – to find me a place here.
I bought myself an old Corolla to better fit in with my new life, filled it with my stuff, and then left. No one but Henry knows where I am, and I know he won't say anything.He's always had a soft spot for me.
Sure my parents will probably have a fit when they realize I'm gone. And it's not because they want to keep me close to look after me. They're not exactly the loving and doting type. It's because they're afraid of me embarrassing them. Whatever I do or say reflects on them and they don't like it when they're not able to control me.
I'm not really sure what to expect, living here. I've never lived far from my parents or the accompanying cameras, but I can already feel the pressure getting lighter and lighter with each breath I take.
From here on out, it's a new me. No. No, it's more so that I'm actually able to be menow.
With one final glance around, I make a mental list of things I need, grab my keys and purse and head to the grocery store that I passed earlier. I'll need food for at least a late dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow. But since I'm going there, I might as well shop for everything.
I love that there is no heavy traffic on the way to the store. I love that when I walk through the door to Peaches,the only grocer in town, no one knows who I am or my family.
They still stare, but it seems more like they're wondering who this new person is in their town. I can't help but smile to myself when I grab a cart and start putting items into it.
“You must be the one who moved into the Cromac's old place.”
Turning my head, I see an older woman stocking the shelves. She's dressed in a pair of high-wasted mom jeans and a long-sleeve black t-shirt tucked in with the logo of this store above her left breast. There is a friendly air about her that immediately makes me feel comfortable with her.
“Oh, I'm not sure. Did they live by the beach?”
“Smaller house at the end, on the shore-side.”
“Well, then, yep, that's me. How did you know?”
“Just a feeling. Not too many passersby stock up on a week's worth of groceries.” She nods to my cart.
Smiling, I hold out my hand to her. “I guess you're right. I'm Remi.”
She looks me up and down before reaching out and grabbing it.
“You're a pretty little thing,” she says bluntly. “I'm Jolene. This is my store.”