Page 54 of Midnight Ink

“Wow, I’m even envious.”

She busies herself back with her paper.

Alexander smiles tightly at his daughter then looks at me. “Fight?”

“Kind of. More like I’m just being a di—” I look at Violet. “A dummy,” I correct. His eyes slide back to whatever he’s writing, and I need to say something. “Sorry, I uh, this might sound weird but . . . are you mad we’re here?” I can’t stand it when a business treats customers like they’re an inconvenience. I don’t think that’s what this is, though. Something else is going on, and I need to know if it’s homophobia or racism because whether we find my bag or not, we will be getting the fuck out of here.

He looks down at his books for a moment. “No. I’m very happy you’re both here.”

“Can you tell your face that.” I laugh a little. “If it’s because I’m gay or that Julian⁠—”

“No!” he rushes out. “No, that’s not—” Shame sparks his eyes. “Violet, go help your mother in the upstairs bedroom.” She opens her mouth to argue, but he’s got this dad look, and shit, I nearly go upstairs to help her mother. Snatching her paper she glares at her father but leaves us here in silence. “I’m sorry if my actions have made you feel unwelcome. That’s not it at all.”

“Then what is it?”

He taps his pen on the book in front of him. I see it in his face, the same kind of tiredness I’ve carried for years. “We um, we’re actually in the process of closing down.”

“Xia said you guys were renovating.”

He shakes his head. “She’s very optimistic.” He smiles warmly. “She thinks renovating will help but . . . it’s not looking good. We’ve had to sell a lot of the furniture just to keep lights on.” He shakes his head. “When we moved here nearly ten years ago, we were the only place around. Now we’re competing with three hotel chains with discount rates and more amenities than we can provide. The room you’re both staying in is our personal guest room for when our family comes to stay with us. It’s just hard.” He drags in a breath. “Xia loves this house. She loves having people here. She’s very happy you’re both staying here.”

An idea comes to mind.

I think about Julian, this trip. It’s not what we had planned, but I’m here with him. I need to apologize for my freakout this morning, and that means I need to be honest with him.

And honest with myself.

Maybe I can still have closure.

I want my bag back. I need that bag back, but maybe I don’t need to be in Puerto Rico. This trip was about Maddox, but maybe it needs to be about Julian and me. Maybe I need to open myself up and see if something can grow. I don’t want to push him away.

I don’t want to be alone forever, and if I’m honest—really, brutally honest with myself—I have feelings for Julian. Real feelings. I think I always have.

I swallow with the realization. It’s not just physical. It’s deep. I care about Julian and it’s scary to face it, but I do. The tiny tug of betrayal pulls at my gut, but I try and shut it out. I’m not doing anything wrong. It’s been seven years.

I don’t want to be alone anymore. And if Julian will have me, I only want it to be him.

“I’m sorry about your boyfriend. I am.”

My surprise snaps my attention up. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, you didn’t need that whole speech. I just want you both to know it’s not either of you. I’m happy you’re here and I apologize for the way I’ve acted. I’m just worried about her. My wife is barely containing herself with excitement. She wants to smother you both and I’m barely holding onto the reins.”

That makes me laugh. “It’s okay. She’s very sweet. Thank you for sharing. It must be hard. I know how hard it is to own a business, especially now.” My wheels are turning before I can think this through. “Would it be a burden if I paid through next Friday?” His brow furrows. “It’s not the vacation we planned but we like it here.” His brows rise. “We really do,” I laugh.

I don’t care that we’re not on a beach somewhere.

I’m here with Julian and that is a gift by itself.

“Really?”

I nod.

“I’ll give you a discount. I’ll just charge you both for the week.”

We already got the refund for the hotel in Puerto Rico, and once I get the jar back I’ll have that cash as well. “Charge us the full rate, please.”

He takes my card and writes something down in his book with a slight smile on his face, then he hands the card back to me. “Thank you,” he says sadly. “I’m sorry about your vacation. I know this isn’t what you had planned.”