Page 44 of Forbidden (Wicked Billionaires #1)

STORM

I drive the rental into my small South Carolina hometown. I have mixed feelings about being back, but it is what it is. After pulling into the old cemetery, that looks over the river, I park up. I park where I’ve always parked, and it somehow feels comforting.

I gather courage, and I walk to my father’s resting place. I pace for a while, and I finally get myself to sit.

I tell dad a few things, and I let go. I sob, and I tell him I messed up. I also tell him, I’m back home.

For how long, I have no idea, but maybe, just maybe forever.

I tell him, I’m a screw up, and I ask him who I was trying to kid. And who did I really think I was? To think, little old me was enough?

Enough for a sophisticated, and worldly guy like him. As if I was anything alongside those tall statuesque, perfect, women.

Deep down, I know, I’m a small-town girl, with curves, and who likes to read. I had attached a few wild, and fun hobbies, but I am simple, uncomplicated, and normal.

I am not a perfect diamond.

I am a normal girl from South Carolina, and you know what. Screw it! I am proud to be who I am.

I exhale long and hard, and I look into the beautiful mountains. It’s starting to feel alright. These are my people, and I am there’s. They will accept me back, and I will rebuild a life here.

Maybe in the hills in a cabin, and with a dog, maybe a horse, and my design clients.

I do not need gowns. I do not need jets. I do not need to worry about women taking a man from me. And I do not need all those fancy things like champagne, galas, and parties.

After driving to my mom’s place, and the home I’d grown up in, I sit outside for a few minutes.

I work out what to say, and I tell myself to keep it together. Finally, I suck in a long breath, and I walk to the front door.

It feels weird to be back, but I have to do it.

Mom opens the door, and double blinks. Then, as always, with her cheery self, she opens her arms. “Oh, darling!”

She holds me tight, and I hold her close. We say nothing, and I realize she must know, something is up.

Finally, we pull back and she looks me over. After pulling me inside, we talk at the kitchen table. I cry in her arms, and I feel stupid, and embarrassed.

I can’t explain everything, because of the sobs and inhaling, so I just finish with, “It just didn’t work out.”

“Well, who needs New York, anyway?”

It’s just what I need to hear, and she makes tea. We sit in the sun, and we talk more out back. The mountain view is gorgeous, and I calm more than expected.

Mom tells me she’s proud of me. She then congratulates me about my new hobbies. It helps some.

Mom is cool enough to not ask where my car is. Also, what I am going do with my life, and if I will stay. I decide to do the right thing, and I just tell her I need some time.

As we finish the talk, I explain my plan.

To go spend a week at grandpa’s cabin in the mountains. The very same mountains we can see in the distance.

Mom tells me it’s wise, and that if I need anything, to just holler. We hug at my rental, and I start to feel better. Better about cutting off my crazy NYC experience, and putting it all behind me.

It’s time to get back to reality, and that means jeans, a T, sneakers, and my old simple life.

As I drive away from Mom, I hope to God I didn’t make Lorenzo sound bad. I didn’t say who the relationship was with, but I suspect she could tell. I just hope she doesn’t tell Martha. Even if I thought Lorenzo loved me, and he was faithful, it should not affect his relationship with Martha.

She is the only person he has in the world.

After driving to Madison’s small cafe, I take a breath, and walk calmly in. It is quiet, and she is tidying up, ready for closing.

As soon as she sees me, she runs across the wooden floorboards, and leaps into my arms.

After flipping the sign to ‘closed,’ we walk along the river. I give her the whole story, but not the parts about Lorenzo commanding me to come for him.

Or how he had taught me what to do, what not to do, and the other wicked things. As we walk along the slow river, we talk, and I look into the distant Blue Mountains.

Finally, I get it all out, and I feel better. Madie tells me she loves my new look, and she can tell I’m more confident.

She hugs me as we stop, then she looks at me with a grin. “Well, it’s great to see you, babe. So, are you home for good, or what?”

I’m still unsure about that, and I don’t know what to say.

I enjoyed seeing the world, or what I’ve seen. Also, learning things like Italian, how to dive, fly averagely and salsa.

Even if I’ll likely rarely use them again, it was good. Good, because my universe expanded, and I gained more confidence. The thing is though, for now, I’m worn-out. Spent.

“I’m sick of the drama, and of the ups and downs of travel. I love it here, and I need to catch my breath.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know,” I say.

Deep down I suspect I need to see more cities, and to see more of the world. Even if I adore this town, this county, and this state, I suspect I’m not ready to settle. Maybe Boston would be a great place to work and live.

Or Miami. Or Austin, Texas.

Madison smiles, and so do I.

For now, it’s enough time in the fast lane. Enough jet setting. Enough wild times, and enough wild sex. I gulp at that idea, and I shake my head to not think of that, o r him.

“And any sign of Billy?” I ask.

Madison shakes her head, “last we heard he was in Canada on a rig.” I nod, and it’s one less thing to worry about.

After writing a shopping list, and buying bags of food from the general store, I remember the rental. I decide to give zero Fs, because my design money will cover it.

I head into the mountains, and an hour later, I pull up to the old wooden cabin. It looks over the distant river, and it’s good to be home.

The cabin belonged to my grandparents and here, I feel safe again. As I think of, and miss my grandparents, I start to feel them close.

Setting the cabin, kitchen and bedroom up, is calming, and I get ready for a week of rest, designing, and deciding. It’s time to forget my life of travel, sex, and orgasms. Also, his eyes, his voice, his energy, and him.

As I sit outside on my grandmother’s chair, I have her rug on my lap. It’s reassuring, and finally I start to calm.

I look down on the winding river. It moves slow and steady, unlike my past life. I decide to slow down, and I decide my life should mimic the gentle flowing water.

My eyes sweep the distant mountains, and it’s peaceful.

I remember the books in the chests inside, and I glow. Grandpa read like a madman, and he read all kinds of types, and styles.

As I grin, I decide when I’m not designing, I will read my way through the week, and I will heal. I will stop thinking about Lorenzo, his eyes, his tongue, and the wicked things he did to me, and my body.

It was likely wrong to feel that good. Wrong to come so hard, wrong to fall so fast, and wrong to love someone so much.