Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle (87 page)

Sabrina curled in the recliner, tucking her feet under her. The big bed loomed across the room. The big, empty bed. She and Jared were supposed to be here together. They should be celebrating the beginning of their life together, yet here she was. Alone. How could everything have changed so drastically in a week?

She wanted to curl up in that bed, draw the covers over her, and never come out. She shed her shoes and crawled under the covers, clothes and all. It wasn’t quite dark out, she hadn’t washed her face, hadn’t brushed her teeth, but she didn’t care.

Maybe she could spend the next seven days under the blankets. She could hang up a Do Not Disturb sign and disconnect the phone.

But regardless of how she spent the coming week, eventually it would end. And then what? She’d have to return to Macon and face them again. Her family, her friends. Jaylee. Jared.

Sabrina pulled the duvet over her head. She hadn’t felt so alone since her father killed himself. Like it was yesterday, she could see his lifeless body on his bedroom floor the way she’d found it after school that day. She’d been nine then, in the third grade. She’d thought he was playing a game.

If her aunt and uncle hadn’t taken her in, she would’ve spent the remainder of her childhood in a foster home. They’d made her feel like a sister and daughter. But the past week had shown her clearly who their daughter was. Blood was thicker than water, and Jaylee had more of their blood than Sabrina did.

She turned over and stared at the lit face of the clock. Were Jared and Jaylee together right now? Were they lying together in each other’s arms? Were they glad she was gone so they could be together without having to hide their feelings?

The betrayal had carved an aching hollow spot in the middle of her stomach. She was tired of the ache. Tired of the pain. She wanted it to go away. But the truth was, the betrayal was only now hitting her fully. The busyness of wedding cancellations, she realized, had distracted her. And while all she’d wanted the last six days was to escape, she hadn’t realized that being here, that being idle for seven days, would allow her full exposure to the pain.

Why did she lose everyone she loved? Her mom, her dad, now Jared. Was she unlovable? Was there something about her that was so terribly flawed?

The ache grew, spreading, swelling, devouring her. Is this how her dad had felt before he killed himself? Had he suffered some heartbreak or had her mother’s death been too hard to recover from? Still, he’d had Sabrina. Why hadn’t that been enough?

You’re not enough, Sabrina. You weren’t enough for your dad, and you
weren’t enough for Jared.

Maybe thoughts such as these had driven her dad to that ultimate act of selfishness. Maybe she wasn’t so very different from him. Maybe things like suicide were hereditary.

She rolled over and clutched her hands to her chest, feeling the bracelet Jared had given her all those months ago. It had been Valentine’s Day and the bracelet had only held a single heart. Every special occasion after that, he’d given her another charm. A pearl birthstone pendant for her birthday, a key charm for their anniversary, a book charm, an
S
charm, and a ring for when they got engaged. Sabrina wrapped her hand around the bracelet, holding it close to her skin as if by grasping it she could keep a tiny piece of her life with Jared.

She closed her eyes against the throbbing ache. She was so tired. Tired of thinking, tired of hurting, tired of breathing.
Don’t think.
Don’t think about anything except the sound of the water outside. The
sound of it lapping the shoreline.

Eventually she fell asleep, but when she awoke, she wished for sleep again, for oblivion. She spent the next day in her room, telling the maids she didn’t need her room serviced. She ordered food only when her gnawing stomach became unbearable, took a long bath, watched TV without seeing it. When the phone rang, she disconnected it.

The next day, when the maids came to the door, she went outside and walked down the beach, listening to the lonely cries of seagulls and the shushing of water lapping the shoreline. When the maids finished, she was relieved to return to the cocoon of her room. The maids had replaced the tepid water in the champagne bucket with fresh ice.

Day three was a duplication of day two. The loneliness was getting to her, and the realization that she’d lost not only her fiancé, but her best friend and family, was weighing hard on her. She missed feeling wanted, feeling needed. She missed feeling normal. She’d never felt so unwanted. Not even in high school when she hadn’t exactly shone like a star next to her beautiful cousins. Not even in the beauty pageant her Aunt Bev had entered her in.

Near the end of the week, when evening arrived, she felt suffocated by loneliness. The air in the room seemed thick and impossible to pull into her lungs. Two more days and she would face Jared and Jaylee. She didn’t want to go home, dreaded the thought. Visions of her dad lying on the floor haunted her.

Her eyes fell on the champagne still nestled in the bucket. She picked up the bottle and went to work. The cork popped off. She poured the liquid into a fluted glass and made a toast.

“To life alone. May I never be so stupid as to love again.” She drained the first glass. Then, feeling somewhat better, Sabrina poured another.

She wondered why she hadn’t drunk the champagne earlier. To think she’d suffered needlessly when a reprieve had been nearby all along.

This was better than lying around depressed. Better than contemplating the similarities between herself and her dad. She wasn’t like him. Would never do something so horridly selfish and destructive.

Again, that vision of him on the floor, his denim-clad legs crumpled, his oval glasses askew on his ashen face.

She sprang to her feet.

She needed to leave this depressing place. Go someplace fun and lively. She’d stared at these four walls too long.

The only dress she’d brought slipped easily over her head. The waist hung loosely, so she tightened the belt, then went to run a brush through her hair. By the time she was ready, she almost looked like she fit in with the elite summer crowd.

The Nantucket air was mild at night, a warm breeze blowing in off the harbor. She walked toward town, her sandals clicking on the sidewalk. Main Street was lively. People on their way to supper, dressed in fine linen and suit jackets. There were a lot of couples, she noticed suddenly.

She looked around, from the cars on the cobblestone streets to the tourists milling on the sidewalks. She didn’t see anyone alone. Only her. And where was she going to go? Supper reservations were necessary here, especially on a weekend, and she couldn’t see herself dining in some exclusive restaurant anyway, certainly not alone.

Music and chatter poured from a doorway as she neared it. A shingled sign beside the canopied entrance read “Cap’n Tully’s Tavern.” She wouldn’t feel out of place there. The sound of laugh ter pulled her inside. She could count on one hand the times she’d entered a bar. Her feet crunched over peanut shells as she made her way to a darkened corner and took an empty table, a low one with two stools.

The effects of the champagne were wearing off, and the idea of losing herself again held some appeal. She took in her surroundings. A pool table crowded the opposite corner, surrounded by four college-aged men. A few singles sat at the bar, nursing drinks, but even in here, there were couples. She felt like a wallflower, stuffed into the corner of the room, invisible, wilting.

I used to be half of a couple
, she reminded herself. What a fool she’d been to think it might last forever. She’d never had Jared, not really. She wondered again what was inherently wrong with her. There had to be something.

Enough, Sabrina.
These thoughts were only digging her deeper into the hole of despondency. Keep going and she would end up at the very bottom, where her dad had no doubt landed just before he took his life.

She was not like that. She was not.

When a young male server stopped at her table, she ordered a snakebite. She’d never had one, but there was no time like the present. Now that she’d found her drug of choice, why not take the shortcut to oblivion? It was better than sitting around, writhing in her pain. At least she was
doing
something. It felt good to have a little control back.

She tapped her stubby nails on the tabletop. They’d been long only a week ago. She’d taken exquisite care of them in the two months before the big day, and they’d been longer than ever. She’d had an appointment for a manicure the day before the wedding—another cancellation she’d made. But the six days of stress had taken their toll, and now the edges were short and ragged. She must have gnawed on them, though she didn’t remember doing so.

A few minutes later, her shot and a wedge of lemon arrived.
Okay, here we go.
She licked the webbing between her thumb and index finger, salted it, then licked it again. Before the taste faded, she downed the tequila and bit into the lemon wedge. The sourness of the lemon puckered her lips, and she gave a shudder.

Jared’s words from that night rang in her head. “
I’m in love with
Jaylee. We didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s over, Sabrina.”

“It’s over, Sabrina.”

Were there sadder words in the English language?
“It’s over.”
He didn’t want her, was rejecting her, discarding her like yesterday’s newspaper.

Stop it.

Sabrina ordered a second snakebite, and when it arrived a few minutes later, she repeated the process. She was starting to feel it.

Jared’s words were fading like a dream sequence, and a warm, fuzzy feeling was taking their place.

Her gaze collided with a man across the room. He had dark, neatly trimmed hair, and a loosened tie. He was staring at her, or at least she thought he was. She was sitting in a corner, so there was no one behind her. But the room was dim, and maybe she was mistaken. A second glance proved her suspicions. He was at a high table, his hand wrapped around a fancy goblet. His lips turned up at the corners, and she realized she’d been staring.

Sabrina pushed the empty shot glasses past the flickering candle to the table’s edge. Across the room, the bartender slid a full mug across the bar to a woman with short blonde hair and a long, ballerina neck. The bartender was flirting with her, smiling. He said something, and she tossed her head back and laughed.

Sabrina was feeling better. Almost giddy. She should’ve come here days ago instead of locking herself in that depressing suite.

The server approached, blocking her view. He set another snakebite on her table. “From the gentleman over there.” He gestured to the corner, where Tie Man dipped his head and raised his goblet in a mock toast.

The server left, and Sabrina lifted her own glass toward Tie Man before she salted her skin and downed the shot. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. His white shirt almost glowed in the dimness of the room. He was broad shouldered and handsome. And he was interested in her.

The sudden knowledge flattered her, emboldened her. She stood. Her legs felt light, as if they were filled with helium, as she approached him. He watched her every step of the way, and when she stopped at his table, his eyes swept down her body to her bare knees, then back up again.

“Thanks for the drink,” she said.

“Have a seat.” He pushed out the empty chair.

Her body felt weightless as she sank into it. Her thoughts were pleasantly fuzzy. She leaned her elbow on the table and propped her chin in her palm. “I like your tie.” It was red with white dots that played tricks with her eyes if she stared at it.

“I like your eyes.”

She smiled coyly. “These old things?”

“They’re like warm caramel in this candlelight.”

Warm caramel. She liked the thought. She liked this man. He was handsome in a Wall Street kind of way, though his loosened tie made her think he was ready to kick back and relax.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone tonight?”

She laughed, though she wasn’t sure why. “Looking for company, what else?” It made sense suddenly, why she’d left the hotel, why she’d wandered toward town. It was company she sought. And it looked like she’d found it.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Sabrina.”

“Sabrina.” He seemed to taste her name on his tongue. “Sexy.”

He made her feel good. Or maybe it was the tequila. He took a drink from his goblet and it left his lower lip wet.

“What should I call you?” Sabrina reached across the table and drew her thumb across his lip.

He let out a quiet curse. “Whatever you want.”

She laughed, tossed her hair aside. The movement made her dizzy. “Come on, I told you mine.” She tugged his tie, enjoying the flirtation, feeling less like a wallflower and more like Ballerina Neck at the bar.

He smiled lazily. “Sebastian.”

He looked like a Sebastian. “Well, Sebastian. What’s your story? What do you do for a living?”

He grazed his index finger along the curve of her palm. “Do you really want to know?”

The way he looked at her with those mesmerizing gray eyes made her even dizzier. She realized she didn’t care who he was or what he did. “Not really,” she replied. His touch was warm and pleasant, making her tingle. He wanted her. The thought empowered her. Made her heady with excitement.