Final Offer: Chapter 47

I tried my absolute hardest to make the rest of the week go by smoothly. It nearly killed me to put on a brave face and charge forward, knowing that everything coming out of Cal’s mouth was a lie, but I did so for Cami. She always wanted to go to Dreamland, and I was not going to ruin her experience by letting my personal feelings about a man get in the way.

If anyone is to blame for believing Cal, it’s me, so it’s only right I suffer through the rest of the week. And suffer I did. Every interaction with Cal felt like someone was piercing my chest with a thousand needles.

Cal knows something is up. I haven’t done a great job at hiding it, but Cal reads me like his favorite book—every single highlight memorized and every other page tabbed.

His ability to recognize my tells is what makes him perfect at playing me like a fool. He knows which buttons to push and what magic words to say, leaving me vulnerable to his manipulations.

Not anymore.

I stare up at the night sky. Water slaps against the dock, filling the silence. Besides the quick rustle of Cami’s sheets making the baby monitor crackle, I’m left alone with my thoughts.

What a miserable place to be.

I’m not sure how long I sit under the stars, watching the moon’s reflection dance across the water. Coming out here was a risk, but one I found worth taking.

I knew it was only a matter of time before Cal cornered me on the dock. After all, it’s where our story began.

“You’re going to fall in if you’re not careful.”

I look away from the glittering water. My neck cranes as I take in the tall kid with hair that matches the sun shining above us and blue eyes that rival the water in front of us, clearer than a cloudless day.

Everything about him screams money. Boat shoes. Pastel shorts. Striped T-shirt.

I haven’t seen him before, but that isn’t saying much. My family only just moved here from Colombia.

My nose wrinkles. “No hablo inglés.”

His eyes sparkle. “Que raro. Te he escuchado hablar con tu mamá en inglés antes.”

Damn. Busted.

“My name is Cal.” He smiles.

“Cal?” My accent peeks through, accentuating the ah sound.

He laughs as he drops on to the dock and crisscrosses his legs next to me.

“What are you doing?” I try my best to annunciate my words like how I learned from watching too much American TV after school.

“Grandpa told me you moved here from Colombia a few weeks ago.”

My chest tightens as I think about home. Mami wanted a fresh start after Papi left us, so she called a cousin who moved to the States and bought three one-way plane tickets. Anto has spent most of her days locked in her room, while I’ve hung out by the lake by myself, ignoring my mom. If I’m going to protest living here, I might as well enjoy the view.

“Yup.” Maybe if I keep my answers short, he will go away.

“Do you miss it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any friends here?”

I release a heavy breath. “Why are you asking?”

“You looked lonely.”

Because I am. “So?”

“So, I thought we could be friends.”

“I don’t want any.” Making friends with anyone might make Mami believe I’m happy about living here. And if she thinks I like it here, then we will never move back to Colombia.

His smile widens, taking up the lower half of his face. “Okay. No friends.”

He doesn’t leave, which only annoys me more. Instead, he stares out at the lake and taps his fingers against the wood plank in a mindless patter.

I clamp my hand over his to stop the tapping sound. “Will you stop?”

“Sorry.” His cheeks turn pink. “I can’t help it sometimes.”

“Why?”

He looks away from me. “Because I’ve got issues.”

“Says who?”

“My dad.”

My lips purse. “Sounds like a pendejo.”

A small smile tugs at his lips. “What does that mean?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, but I think it’s a bad word. My mom said it to my dad when he made her cry.” My chest aches at the memory, but I do my best to push the thought away.

“Pendejo. I like it. What other bad words do you know?”

I spend the rest of the afternoon teaching Cal a bunch of bad words I have overheard, and he teaches me the English equivalent. By the time my mom is calling us in for dinner, I realize the sun has already set and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“Are you eating with us tonight?” Cal offers me his hand.

I take it and gasp at the little tingle in my fingers. “You shocked me!”

He laughs, which makes me laugh.

For the first time since I moved to America, I wonder if it isn’t the worst thing in the world to make a friend…

“Lana.”

The memory shimmers away, and the younger version of Cal is replaced by the man. The same man who broke my heart again, although this time feels even worse than the last. Before, I had hope he could get better. That he would snap out of his selfish behavior and choose to be a bigger, better version of himself.

That hope was nothing but a lie I told myself to feel good about our situation.

“Mind if I take a seat?” he asks.

I stare out at the lake without replying.

He leaves room between us as he sits down next to me. My pinky finger yearns to interlock with his, but I repress any urge to touch him by holding on to my anger.

“What’s wrong?” He looks over at me.

“A lot of things.” I continue to face forward, although the feel of his gaze tempts me to turn toward him.

“Want to talk about it?”

No, but what choice do I have? It’s not like I can ignore Cal forever, and now that Dreamland is no longer an issue, I’d rather get everything off my chest so he can leave once and for all.

“Why are you selling the house?” I come out and ask the question I already know the answer to. It might be stupid, but I hope he comes clean and admits to his plan, even if it means risking what fragile thing we have built together.

Maybe then I could learn to forgive him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can make out the rare frown line cutting across his forehead.

“We’ve already gone over this.”

My heart pounds in my chest, the pace growing more rapid with each pump. “Then repeat it.”

Tell me the truth. Give me a reason to give you another chance.

He releases a heavy exhale. “I want us to be able to move forward without the house holding us back.”

His roundabout answer does nothing to stop my chest from caving in on itself. Each breath becomes impossible, the tightness in my lungs making them burn with every inhale.

I carry on, my face a mask of cool indifference despite the constant throb of my heart. “What if I want to keep it?”

His fingers tense against his thighs. “Lana…” He whispers my name as if I’m hurting him on some fundamental level, when I know that isn’t the case.

I’m the one who is hurting.

I’m the one who gets to be mad.

And I’m the one who is going to walk away this time. Not because of his addiction, but rather because of who he is regardless of the drinking. Selfish. Self-centered. Self-destructive.

My fingers press into my thighs. “What if it makes me happy to keep the house? After all, I always dreamed of raising a family there. I wanted to enjoy summers by the lake, baking and building ships and swimming with the kids until their limbs cramp up.”

I can see the future so clearly, it takes the pain in my chest and multiplies it by a hundred. Because even after all the lies, I want that future with Cal.

You wanted that future with Cal. There’s a past tense for a reason, so start using it.

God. I’m so stupid.

“Why that house?” His voice cracks.

“Because it’s ours. You might want to forget about all the history there, but I don’t. And in the end, you running from a house won’t solve anything when the real thing you’re running from is yourself.”

“Where is all this coming from?” He looks over at me with wild eyes reflecting exactly how he feels about the inheritance.

Desperate.

For once, we’re on the same page. Because I feel desperate too. Desperate for him to tell the truth. Desperate for me to stay strong despite the urge to crumble beside him. Desperate for us not to lose everything we have built, even if it was built on a lie.

“Did your grandfather leave you an inheritance?” I ask point-blank.

“Yes.” Cal does a good job keeping his expression flat, although the twitch of his fingers gives him away.

“He asked you to sell the house,” I say with certainty.

One single nod makes my heart explode. Like a bomb, it detonates, blowing up any chance of me ever trusting another word that comes out of his mouth.

I already knew the truth, but having it confirmed destroys whatever bit of calm I had left.

“I see.” My tongue scrapes against the roof of my mouth.

“How did you find out?” he rasps.

“I overheard your conversation after dinner. Someone left the window open…” A bitter laugh crawls up my throat, making my ears ache from the shrill sound.

“Whatever you heard, it’s not what you think.” He stumbles over the words.

“Of course it’s not,” I reply sarcastically. “Either way, I contacted the real estate agent and told him to lower the listing price. He said it’s only a matter of time before someone puts an offer in.”

“You did what?” His voice comes out low, his anger dripping from each syllable.

I stand and brush the dirt off my leggings. “Congratulations, Cal. Hope the twenty-five billion keeps you company at night, because I sure as hell won’t.” When I turn to walk away, Cal bolts to his feet and latches on to my hand, preventing me from leaving.

“Let me explain.”

“What for? It’s not like I trust a single thing that comes out of your mouth.” I rip my hand from his grasp, nearly yanking my arm out of its socket in the process.

His fingers curl into a fist. “I couldn’t tell you about the will.”

“Why not?”

His head drops. “Because Grandpa told me not to.”

“Since when do you listen to what people tell you to do? The Cal I knew and fell in love with would have told me about the will. Regardless of who said what, he would have been honest. Forthcoming. Sincere. He would have reasoned with me rather than gone behind my back, using my love for my daughter to work in his favor.”

He flinches.

There isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t have done for Cal if he had asked me rather than lied, including selling the house.

He takes a deep breath. “There was a lot riding on my secrecy.”

“Not nearly as much as what was riding on your honesty.” In an act of betrayal, the tears I have fought appear, turning my vision blurry.

He pulls me into an embrace. “I’m so fucking sorry, Lana. I swear I wanted to tell you, but the decision wasn’t up to me.” His voice shakes, matching the trembling of his arms locked around me.

If this is the last hug I am going to get from him, then I might as well enjoy it. I lean into his touch, taking a deep breath of his scent, memorizing the notes of citrus and something distinctly him.

My ear presses against his chest. I listen to the sound of his erratic heartbeat and allow the steady thump to ground me.

I trace over the spot above his heart with my index finger. “Did you even want to get sober or were you also just doing that as part of the will?”

“What did you say?” His grasp slips before he corrects himself, securing me to his chest like he is afraid I might run off if he doesn’t.

My fingers dig into his shirt, clasping on to the fabric. “Was this all some intricate plan to get me to let my guard down and sell the house faster?”

“What? No. Why would you even…” His brows tug together before they rise to his hairline. “The conversation outside. Shit—” He pulls back.

“Forget I asked. I don’t care.”

“I care.”

My eyes shut from the pain slicing through my heart. I want to believe him. I really do. Yet I’m not sure I will ever be able to again. He has too much at stake that is contingent on my compliance. With the kind of pressure he is under, I’m sure he might say anything to make sure I don’t back out of the plan to sell the house.

I won’t. Whatever dreams I had about the home aren’t worth the heartache attached to the man who owns half of it.

I push against his chest. It’s a weak shove, but he releases me regardless.

“I want you gone from the guesthouse before I wake up in the morning.” My voice cracks toward the end.

His frown deepens. “We can work this out together. Just let me get help and we—”

“There is no we. You made sure of that the moment you decided to lie to my face repeatedly, making me believe in some fantasy that wasn’t even real.”

To his credit, he takes my blow without blinking. “What we have is real.”

“Yeah, a real mistake. And one I don’t plan on repeating with you ever again.”

He recoils as if I physically hit him.

I turn and leave before I lose my nerve. Cal remains at the end of the dock, his eyes burning a hole into my back as I walk away. Each step feels as if I am traveling through quicksand. My legs barely cooperate as I leave behind the only man I ever truly loved.

I give him one last glance over my shoulder. “And when you leave Lake Wisteria this time, don’t bother returning. It’s not like you have any reason to come back anyway.”

His face crumples like a crushed soda can, matching how my heart feels.

I turn away and take the long way back to the guesthouse. Despite every cell in my body begging me to stop, I hold my head high and march into the house like a soldier, ignoring the ache in my chest from where Cal ripped my heart out.

It’s not until I crawl into bed that I give in to the tears. I cover my face with a pillow that smells like Cal, which only makes me sob harder. For Cami. For me. And for everything and everyone who has taken advantage of us and the love we are so willing to share.

The only person I can count on to make our dreams come true is myself, and it’s time I learned that lesson once and for all.