Page 62

Chapter Sixty-Two

C lover sat in the passenger seat of Ari’s car, staring at the house she’d so recently called home. She knew no one was there, that Whit would be at the antique shop at this time. But something inside her hesitated to go in. She wasn’t moving out. She just needed some clothes to get her through the week. This wasn’t goodbye for good. But going in to get her suitcase felt like a nail in the coffin of her relationship. It was one step closer to her calling it quits.

Her phone chimed with a text message, and she flipped it open.

Husband

Please let me know you’re okay at least.

Clover’s heart squeezed. Whit wanted to know she was all right. But this was just more of the same. It held no indication that he loved her, and it certainly wasn’t a message asking her to stay.

Her thumbs typed out the message without thought before pressing send.

I’m alive.

“You don’t have to do this now,” Ari said gently.

Clover shook her head. “Yes, I do. I need clothes, and I can’t keep having you and Llew cover for me at work. Stay here. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“All right. Take your time.”

Clover climbed out of the car and crossed the short distance to the house. Taking out her keys, she unlocked the front door and slipped inside.

The now-familiar house didn’t seem nearly as cold and intimidating as it had the first time she’d entered. There were little traces of herself in every room. She wondered if that bothered Whit or if he even noticed.

Sucking in a breath to push back her tears, Clover made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. She pulled a suitcase out from under her bed and laid it on the floor before heading to her dresser.

“You must be Clover,” a low voice said from the open doorway.

Clover gasped, nearly jumping out of her shoes as she spun around.

The elderly man stood in the hall with his hands clasped behind his back, a solemn expression on his face.

She swallowed down her heart. “And you are…Whit’s grandfather?”

The man smiled warmly and nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to your first Thanksgiving. But the leftovers were quite delicious.”

Clover grabbed a stack of clothes and took a few steps to drop them into her suitcase. “I’m glad you enjoyed them.”

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked.

Clover returned to her dresser. “I’m going to stay with my parents for a while.”

Grandfather nodded sadly. “Whatever he’s done, I can tell you he’s sorry for it.”

Clover paused, glancing up at the man as she squeezed the stack of clothes between her palms. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“It’s…difficult to understand each other in the beginning.”

“I don’t know that we’ll ever truly understand each other,” Clover muttered.

Grandfather smiled a smile that seemed to hold all the answers. “With a little patience, communication, and a lot of love, a relationship can survive almost anything.”

Clover shook her head. “That’s the thing, though, isn’t it? What if there isn’t any love? Is a relationship like that worth saving? Is it worth having? Because it might be fine for him, but I’m not sure it is for me.”

Clover didn’t know what Whit had told his grandfather, but in this moment, she didn’t much care. He was the reason they were in this messed up situation. He had to know love would not be a prerequisite for a hurried marriage.

Grandfather frowned. “You think he doesn’t love you?”

“I know he doesn’t. He told me to my face.”

Grandfather muttered something under his breath that Clover couldn’t hear, but the timbre of it sounded like a curse. He sighed. “Let me talk to the boy.”

Clover snorted. “To say what? Look, I appreciate you trying to help. Gods know I love him. But he’s a grown man. You can’t convince him to love me back.”

Clover dropped a final pile of clothes into her suitcase and knelt down to zip it up. She grabbed the handle and looked seriously at Grandfather again. “No matter what I decide, I hope you’ll still give Whit the house. He got married like you wanted him to, and he tried to make it work—he really did.” She sighed through her nose, shaking her head. “He was a good husband, too good. If he hadn’t been, then I wouldn’t have fallen for him so fast and so hard. I know he wants nothing so much as he wants this house.”

She rolled her case into the hall, where he stepped aside to let her pass.

She stopped at the top of the stairs though she did not look back at him. “It was nice meeting you. I’m sorry it wasn’t under better circumstances. I’ll—” Her voice gave way as tears tightened her throat. “I’ll see you later.”

As Clover carried her suitcase downstairs and out the front door, she hoped Whit had told his grandfather she was a summer witch. She could tell he was a kind man who loved Whit very much. And she wanted to believe someone like that not only accepted her for who she was but wanted her and Whit to be together.

Ari popped the trunk, and Clover lifted her suitcase into it before slamming it shut.

Once buckled into the passenger seat again, Clover faced the house Whit loved so much. She didn’t want to leave; everything in her told her to go inside and wait for Whit to come home. She wanted to apologize and tell him she could wait for the rest of her life for him to love her. Hadn’t she been happy here? Didn’t they have a nice little life together?

Covering her eyes with her hand, Clover let the silent tears flow as Ari pulled away.