After All(84)

"Uh oh," Eric says, starting to pour us all more wine. "Looks like you guys are in for a break-up."

I practically snarl at Eric. "Mind your own business," I tell him.

He stares at me with wide eyes and slowly backs away from our glasses. "This is the merlot. Enjoy." Then he promptly turns around and starts dealing with other people.

"Hey, he was pouring good," Emmett complains, swirling the wine around the glass.

"When were you going to tell me you were going to move back to London?"

His features go slack. "I don't know. At some point."

"But when?"

"I don't know," he says again and takes a sniff of the wine. "Not bad."

"Emmett," I hiss. "Please. I can't believe you've been thinking about this and you didn't have the courtesy to even tell me."

His eyes narrow. "Courtesy? Why would I have to tell you?"

"Because."

Because I'm me. And aren't I something to you?

"Alyssa," he says, lowering his voice, "we're not an actual couple, you know. I don't have to tell you everything."

Oh my god. Ow.

OW.

I can't help but wince at his words.

He sighs. "I didn't mean it to come out so harsh," he says. "I just … I don't know, I've been thinking about it and that's it really."

"But you think you might have to leave Boomerang."

"I know I will. My contract with them is only so long. It's up pretty soon and from the way people have been talking and the way the scripts are going, the ratings, I don't think I'll be there for much longer. And it's fine. For once, it's truly fine. This is a good thing."

"Yeah, for you."

"Why not for you? Nothing changes. We'll still fulfill our contract, you'll still get your money. Don't worry."

"Yeah but … ," I trail off. But it's not about the money. It's about you.

Ah, shit. I'm thinking back to my conversation with Jackie last night and how carried away I was getting thinking there was more to us than there is. This is a perfect example of the fact that everything so far has just been in my head, wishful thinking.

I put on a brave, completely fake, smile. "I guess if I still get paid, that's all that matters. I wouldn't have wanted all of this to be for nothing."

If my words hurt him in any way, he doesn't show it. "You know, it wasn't until I met you that I had the courage to realize what I really wanted. I think going back to my passion is the right thing to do. Maybe some people will say it's failure or that I'm moving backwards, but I don't see it that way."

Well that's good for you. You'll move forwards, backwards, wherever, but it's going to be without me.

He warned me. He really did.

"Come on," he says to me, grabbing my hand. "I've had enough of this cockamamie place. We should probably go check on Jackie and Will, make sure she hasn't drowned him or anything. Man, I haven't seen a woman so easily affected by hanger before in my life."


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I nod absently and let him lead me out of the winery. When we're back in the sunshine and strolling down the road back to the cabin, he still doesn't let go of my hand.

"The sky here is so blue," he says, staring up. "You must have loved growing up here. Fucking eh, it would have been so hot in the middle of summer but with having that lake right there I bet it was just bliss."

"Yeah," I say quietly, so confused. So, so confused.

He looks to me, tilting his head. "Are you okay?"

You might move back to London and you didn't even tell me!

"Yeah," I give him a big smile. "I'm fine. I guess I'm just taking it all in."

"Would you ever move back here?" he asks me.

"Maybe to settle down."

"Oh really. And who does Alyssa Martin see herself settling down with here? A winemaker?"

"Who knows," I tell him honestly. Maybe he would have played one on TV.





Chapter 17





Alyssa





"Baby!" My mother cries out, throwing open her arms and practically running down the path to see me.

Before I can even say hello, she's scooping me up in her arms. My mother has gotten skinnier and I swear shorter over time, so much so that I resemble a giant fluffy pillow next to her, but somehow, she's still strong, like freakishly strong. Like, she might just bench-press me, I don't know.

"Oh, you look so lovely," she says once she pulls back and examines my face. "No need for Botox yet either."

I roll my eyes. My mother is extremely vain, probably brought on by the fact that my father was a philandering dickhead. I'm pretty lucky though that by the time I was born, she didn't care so much about appearances. Not like she did with my sisters. They all got the brunt of it, which is probably why they all went off and married so young. It was pretty much what they were conditioned to do.