NautiCal (Forever Wilde 8)

“You came into my life when I needed you the most,” I said, voice cracking and breaking. “You gave me something of my very own to love and nurture. You gave me a future to aim for, and even if that future has changed now, I still have all of the skills and education to make a good life. Because of you.”

I pulled out Worth’s handkerchief and buried my face in it. Faint traces of his cologne were still there which made no sense after the way I’d abused it with my tears all evening.

Annie would hate to see me so upset. She was much more the kind of person who believed in working your feelings off rather than wallowing in them. I laughed at the memory of the time I’d come to her crying about Winnie and Hallie going off to college and how boring it was with just Sassy and me at home. She’d put me to work repairing sails all day until I figured out there were worse things than a quiet house.

“I can’t even count the number of lives you changed, Annie,” I said when I finally got my composure back. “Alyssa Johnson, Kev Banner, Elijah Padgitt… they wouldn’t be where they are today without you. They wouldn’t be happy and thriving and loved and…” I sighed. “You made a difference. And because of you, I will fight to do the same with my own life.”

My eyes traced the signs of sun damage on her face from years of doing what she loved. “Thank you for every ounce of goodness you put into this world, Annie. And thank you for loving me as hard as you could. I will make you proud. I promise.”

I leaned forward and kissed her hand, pressing my cheek against it until I heard the door open behind me.

“The doctors are coming in,” Brian said. I could tell from his tone of voice that I was out of time.

I pressed one more kiss to her forehead and told her I loved her. Then I turned and straightened up. “Thank you for letting me say goodbye. I’m so sorry, Brian. If there’s anything I can do to help, especially with—”

“We’ll be fine. Thank you.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded before slipping past him out the door and into the waiting arms of my family. Doc and Grandpa took me home to the ranch without a word and let me crawl into bed with Grump. My phone buzzed with a text, and I checked the screen. My heart leapt when I saw who it was from.

Worth: Hope you got a chance to see Annie. If you need anything at all, please let me know.

I sighed. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was still thoughtful and sweet. I was too worn-out to do more than reply with a thank you.

After that, my phone buzzed on and off with texts and calls, but I ignored it. Eventually the battery must have worn out because it went blessedly silent.

I would let myself mourn for a few days. And then it was time to get a life and make a plan. Annie hadn’t raised me to wallow when there was work that needed to be done.

20

Worth

Returning to Chicago on Saturday brought a much-needed reality check. I’d had my vacation, and now it was time to dig into work. With an exciting new deal on the table, it was a good time to focus.

I might have stumbled a little after Cal left St. Mitz, but that was to be expected. He was going through something awful, and my heart went out to him.

The bed in the stateroom was strangely empty without him even though I’d enjoyed it myself plenty earlier this year when I’d been almost alone on the ship. Nat didn’t stop pestering me about Cal the final night on board the ship in the St. Mitz harbor, so when we finally parted ways at the airport in Chicago, I was glad for the blessed silence.

I remembered returning home from St. Mitz after the last trip and enjoying the peace and quiet of my apartment. I’d even been grateful Mason’s belongings were no longer there, and I’d been even more grateful the man himself hadn’t been there.

So why was the apartment so empty today?

It felt like a crypt. The sleek, modern furnishings looked like something out of a magazine, something a grown-up would be proud of. This place represented my business success, and there had been many times I’d taken pride in the fact I’d gotten here without taking any distributions from my family’s business. I’d had the benefit of the best education my father’s money could pay for as well as the small inheritance from my grandparents while I was in college. I’d refused to take any money from JAC after my father had spent my entire life ranting about “good-for-nothing freeloaders” which meant I’d worked harder than ever trying to prove myself as someone who “deserved” the wealth I earned. It was a trap. I knew it was a trap, but it was still hard to dispel those words that had been hammered into my head during my formative years.