Page 59 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

I SAID, SHE SAID

Beckett

“You’re not going to work there forever, Beckett. That’d be fucking stupid.”

My father shakes his head, looking at me like I’m nuts. I angle the phone towards me as I brush my teeth, listening to his rambling.

“You wouldn’t have to do this if you just went to college,” he adds a beat later. “Your grandmother could get you a real job.”

“Right.”

“You’re her favorite grandson, you know that?” Gregory sighs tiredly. “The old lady favors you, Beckett. Her whole business could be yours if you just tried to put in some effort—”

“If I just stopped wasting time?” I cut in, feeling numb.

“You and Lucia had your plans,” my father concedes. “But what you’re doing at the farm is… foolishness! You like wasting your life in the middle of nowhere doing God knows what? Helping an old man who’s about to die alone from a heart attack?”

“Well is a good man,” I object defensively, walking out of the bathroom now. “He’s honest. I admire that about him.”

“You admire him?” my father snaps. “What, is that the future you want for yourself now, too?”

I flinch. This isn’t about me, at least not really.

He is alone in a hotel room, not doing much else.

My father has no one left. Not a single soul to share his pain with.

He feels alone in the world, without a family to take care of, lacking any real roots.

A man who doesn’t have his feet steady on the ground is a tortured man.

I get scared about my future and how likely I am to become like him.

“I don’t know. I’m not thinking that far ahead for now.” I drop next to my computer in bed, determined to fill out all the tax forms for the farm.

Well needs a lot of help, especially now as he’s getting older. There are a lot of small administrative details he constantly misses doing, which always gets us in trouble later.These kinds of tasks aren’t his strongest suit anymore.He’s old, and his mind is slowing down.

“What about when you want a family?” my father presses more anxiously now. “Children?”

Children.

Of course, he wants me to have children. He wants me to have a kid so he can place all his best expectations on him, too.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. “You want me to do what you and Mom did?”

Study something safe. Work at the same firm my cousins do. Get married to someone I barely like. Have two kids and tolerate it all until one of them dies?

I’d genuinely rather kill myself than go through all that. It’s not worth it. Not after what happened to Lucia. I don’t have it in me to pretend anymore to try to placate him.

“That’s disrespectful.”

“I don’t mean for it to be.” I shake my head. “I’m just honestly asking at this point.”

“Don’t make me the villain for wanting better for you. I just want you to have ambition, Beckett,” Gregory curses. “For you to want a real life for yourself and get things going. You used to be different before that last year around Principal Rivera. Argh… What the hell even happened to you?”

“I—”

“Are you seeing that girl?”

I freeze, wondering where he’s getting any of this.

“What?”

“The Rivera girl,” he drags out the last word of his following sentence, sounding almost a bit mocking. “The one with the dog . Are you still seeing her?”

“No,” I lie. “She’s just a friend.”

I mean, she really was.

Is still.

I don’t know anymore.

“Are you seeing anyone else?”

I shake my head. Regardless of what happened at the fundraiser, I just lost Lucia; maybe now is not the time to think about dating. I wouldn’t be able to focus on someone else, and I don’t want to be the kind of guy who won’t make his girlfriend a priority.

Yeah, it just wouldn’t be right.

The question doesn’t surprise me, though. My father absolutely adored Alex, my first girlfriend, going as far as allowing her to come to our family vacation the year we were together. He liked that I was in a committed relationship and not just a kid who spent time studying.

I guess it brought out a different side of me, at least to him, and made me sound more normal.

“You need more than this. You deserve more than this,” his voice rises, because nothing is enough for a man like Gregory Evans. He has this, but he wants more. Always more. “I raised you to want more.”

“Maybe I’m just… I’m just not wired like that, Dad,” my voice falters, but I urge myself not to stutter. “Maybe I just deserve… I just deserve a simple life.”

And for you to leave me alone.

He exhales loudly, sounding almost as exhausted as I feel.

“Someday, you’ll have to make real choices. Your mother and I, we might not have been perfect parents to you, but we did what was expected of us. We made our families proud.”

“And you’re not proud of me,” I deduce.

His silence speaks louder than words. I nod, finally understanding. There’s no winning with him, not if I don’t do as I’m told.

The Evans are making a fortune all around the world with research and outer space technology. He wants me to be a part of that, even though the promise of that kind of responsibility sounds like a nightmare to a person like me, who just desperately needs peace and quiet.

“It’s my life, Dad.” I blink fast. “I’m not a, argh, I’m no-not a kid anymore.”

“Then stop acting like one, Beckett!” he snaps at me, the screen going dark. “You get one year… because of Lucia. But we have to move forward; we need to. She’s not coming back.”

Is this what I’m going to sound like when I hit forty? A broken record who doesn’t see the world besides what’s right in front of him, someone who doesn’t care about anything other than himself, to the point he won’t ever admit that he barely even raised his own kids?

“And if you’re not planning on seeing that girl, maybe you should think about telling her that. She has these lost puppy eyes…” he snorts derisively, the screen showing his face again as he lays back in bed. “The last thing I need is Mr. Rivera ever knocking on my door again.”

I roll my eyes, ending the call before he can piss me off even further. “Well, I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”

Word spread fast.By the end of last month, everybody in town and beyond already knew about Nathaniel Rivera and me arguing in some kind of parking lot. I didn’t care then, and I still really don’t.

Who do I care about?

Cassandra.

God. I miss her. I miss talking to her. I miss whatever she did to keep me on that phone. I’m still angry, but I miss her. There should be a world where I’m allowed to feel both.

“Why not?” he asks, and I shrug. “Eh… That bad, huh?”

***

I go on to meet Antony and Mateo Pereira at Silvio’s later that same day to distract myself from the incredible feeling of doom I always get after talking to my father.

I’m not close to the latter by any means, but a friend of Tony’s is also a friend of mine. Mateo seems like a nice guy to be around, or whatever. I’m not questioning their proximity; Antony is an extroverted person.

But once I get there, who do I find?

Cassandra Rivera.

I swear to God, it’s like she’s haunting me.

“I can’t believe she’d show her face around here!” Antony snaps angrily, glaring at Cassandra as she waits for Caleb to finish his shift.

She swallows hard, pretending not to hear him, but her eyes lock with mine before she looks away quickly. I keep on staring, picturing the deep flush rising to her cheeks.

It’s been twenty minutes of this.Her pretending that I’m not sitting a few tables over. Me pretending that I don’t want to call her out for doing so.

Cassandra is wearing the tiniest hot pink shorts, the fabric stretching around the fullness of her thighs and elongating her legs a little more than usual.

I force my gaze to rise, noticing her pink bikini straps tied around her neck next.

The ends of the straps in particular are getting caught and messily tangled between her gold strands of hair, and my leather jacket is around her shoulders, which altogether just makes me want to—

“Especially by his side!” Antony adds, disbelief showing in his exasperated tone. “What is she even thinking?”

The restaurant is closed until later tonight, but Silvio keeps the bar running at all times. It’s a fairly good spot to visit if you’re a tourist. The menu is cheap, the decorations are vibrant, with colorful flags tied to the ceiling, and the staff is welcoming.

The tables and chairs are either made of wood or plastic, making the spot look particularly homely, and the floor is always somewhat covered with bits of yellow sand. I feel the grains sliding underneath my sandals every time my feet shift underneath the table.

“Leave her alone,” I snap protectively, sipping on my virgin passionfruit cocktail. “She’s done nothing to you.”

“Nothing to me?” Tony scoffs, his voice rising as he speaks. “Cassandra Rivera is this town’s biggest liar, pretending to be your friend and ours all this fucking time.”

“Quiet!” I hiss, glaring at him. “She wasn’t pretending, and it’s not like you two were ever that close to begin with.”

It’s precisely what makes it worse. You can act friendly for a little while, but never for that long without the mask slipping.Le Port is a small place to live in. Small enough that everyone somewhat knows of each other since birth, but even then it’s hard to find real friendships to rely upon.

We locals have this tendency to automatically consider every other person as mere acquaintances in case we need a favor, but you can always tell when someone actually cares about you.

CassandraRivera wasn’t pretending, not even a single bit.

Besides, she doesn’t come across as someone who would fake it for ulterior reasons. That was all Lucia. I have nothing special to give her, nothing but what I have inside, which isn’t much these days.