And those two people who’d been so damned determined for Cory to find a relationship they’d driven him out to that gazebo the night of the Value Hardware gala? They had other priorities now.
Like moving thousands of miles away. Leaving him here to deal with the fallout from the mess he’d created. It would have been easy for him to try to point fingers in his parents’ direction and blame them for what had happened, but that would’ve been his guilt and regret talking. A year ago he might’ve cast his own actions in a better light, even tried to paint himself as the aggrieved party. Not so anymore. He knew exactly who was at fault—and he was looking at him in the hall mirror of his parents’ house.
Swallowing hard, he turned to face another slice of reality. Bit by bit the house was being packed up, his childhood being put in boxes. His parents were radiantly happy, on the cusp of their new adventure, while his world had gone blacker than the inside of a tornado.
He’d never felt rage before. Not like this. For the most part, he didn’t suffer from wild swings of emotion. There was work and more work. He didn’t have time for flights of fancy, and he most certainly didn’t have time to rocket up his parents’ driveway and slam through the door to confront them over his own stupidity.
But he’d done it, and now that he was there, no one was going to stop him.
He walked down the hall to the kitchen and came to a halt at the lack of…well, everything. The place looked deserted. Over the past few weeks when he’d been occupied with loving and losing Victoria, he hadn’t fully realized what his parents’ moving away truly meant. The house wouldn’t be there for him anymore. The tree house still in the backyard, waiting for phantom children who would never come; the porch swing, listing in the fall breeze; the triangle of flowers in the pasture where they’d buried his dog, Rusty—they would all belong to someone else, and he wouldn’t get to see them unless he asked for permission. And the answer might very well be no.
Fuck that.
This was his home base, the place he felt most like himself. He’d be damned if he let it be sold out from under him just so he could keep his sterile penthouse. He didn’t want to be alone on top of the city anymore. He wanted this house. These memories, mixed with all new ones he made with—
“Sweetheart.” His mom rushed into the kitchen. “You must’ve heard.”
“Heard what?”
“About Misty. She’s gone.”
He frowned. “But she was fine the last time I was here.” Over a week ago. He’d been in the barn, but he sure hadn’t been hanging out there because of the horse. “What happened?”
“She was old, honey.”
“Not that old. She was only…shit.” She’d been around his entire life. And he’d assumed she would always be there, just because he wanted it to be so. He didn’t have time to deal with her, but when he took that vacation he’d been putting off, he’d come out here and spend a day riding. He’d make up for all the years he hadn’t so much as stopped by to brush her or even sneak her carrots.
His life had turned into one big regret. He might as well just write his epitaph now.
Cory Santangelo meant to do better, but he died before he could spare the time.
“If you didn’t know about Misty, why did you come?”
She knew him too well. There were no visits simply to say hello, especially in the middle of the workday. No trips out just because. There was intention, followed by a strategy and its execution. Hesitation meant failure.
So he didn’t hesitate.
“I want this house,” he said, his voice clearer than it had been in months. Years. “I’ll buy it from you. Whatever amount you deem fair.”
Corinne’s mouth trembled around her smile. “You really mean it?”
“Yes. Call the real estate agent, get the sign down out of the yard. It’s mine.” He stepped forward and gripped her hands, bringing them to his mouth. “I’m sorry about Misty. She was a beautiful horse. And I’m sorry I haven’t been around for a while.”
Her eyes filled. “You’ve always been around.”
“No, I haven’t. I was always in my head, in my work. Misty got older and I barely even looked up long enough to notice. That’s going to stop.”
“You’re devoted, honey.”
“I’m a workaholic.” He gave her a half smile. “Isn’t that why you and Dad demanded I get a woman?”
Something flickered through her gaze. “And you got one, didn’t you?”
“I did. And I lost her.” He let go of his mother’s hands and paced to the bare window that looked out on the leaf-sprinkled side yard. It was time he come clean. All along he’d known he would come to this moment, and he’d lied anyway. Delaying the inevitable. “We weren’t really dating, Mom. We got together for the sole purpose of getting you and Dad off my back.”