Page 46 of Mountain Bean Dream
The Pinot would be easy. Familiar. But hadn’t I spent enough time choosing what fits best with someone else’s plans?
I reached for the Malbec, my grip firm as I pulled it from the shelf. A quiet thrill ran through me as I uncorked the bottle. This was my choice—not Derek’s, not anyone’s.
Pouring a glass, I took a long sip, letting the flavor settle on my tongue. It was rich, vibrant, and just a little wild.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was mine.
Hours later, after a nap, I texted Jeremy to let him know I was up, but still not feeling one hundred percent, so I was staying in for the night, but I’d see him tomorrow for the trivianight.
I woke up with a dull ache in my head, the faint hum of confusion from earlier still lingering. The nap had done nothing to untangle the mess Derek had left in my mind.
He’d been so willing to let me go, cutting me free with a precision that stung more than I cared to admit. And yet, here I was, desperately clinging to the idea that if he was jealous, maybe that meant he still wanted me. Was that hope, or just old habits refusing to die?
But then, Derek had flipped so many times in as many days that I couldn’t keep up. One moment, apologetic and almost tender; the next, cold and sharp, leaving me questioning everything. An old actor friend of mine used to call it ‘pretty boy syndrome.’ The kind of guy who could play the part of the perfect boyfriend, but only so long as the narrative suited him.
Was that Derek? Was he trying to pull me back because he genuinely wanted me, or was it just about control? Did he really care, or was this about making sure no one else had me if he couldn’t?
The thought made my stomach churn. I didn’t want to be that girl—the one who confused jealousy for love.
And then there was Jeremy.
Not that he wanted me either. He was just being a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.
But still, when I thought about the way he smiled—soft, a little lopsided, like he wasn’t trying too hard—it felt different. Safer. Realer. He didn’t push or pull like Derek did. Jeremy just... was.
I shook my head, pushing the thought aside. It wasn’t about Jeremy. It couldn’t be.
And yet, a tiny part of me whispered,Then why are you thinking about him?
A knock came on my door, and confused, I saunteredover, peering through the peephole. A paper bag hung from a male’s hand, and when it moved off to the side, Jeremy was behind it.
Smiling in spite of myself, I opened the door.
Plastered onto his face was a peppy little smirk. “You said you weren’t feeling well, so I brought you some chicken soup and a slice of pineapple poke cake.”
“I have no idea what that is, but it sounds delicious.” I waved him in and closed the door.
“You don’t know what chicken soup is?” Mockingly, he shook his head, shifting the waves of hair.
“I know what that is, but not the pineapple thing.”
“Ah, a special dessert. Unless you’re one of those people who doesn’t like pineapple.”
“I like pineapple.”
“Do you like it on pizza?” He drawled out the question with a curious rise of his brows.
I shifted on my feet. “If I do?”
“Then we can still be friends, otherwise, all bets are off.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a container of soup and a container with dessert. “It’s guaranteed to make you feel better.”
“Wow, that is a strong promise for soup.”
“Didn’t your mother ever make you soup when you were ill?”
Maybe once or twice, but there was no love behind it though. It was done with the intent and purpose to get me back on my feet so I wasn’t going to miss a day of rehearsals and shooting. Being sick wasn’t a luxury.
Once I remember being lovingly tucked into bed, however, after I’d entered the business, things changed. I was a commodity; someone who paid their extravagant bills that suddenly happened, only I was too naïve to notice it. The memories of it all pressed on my shoulders because despite allthat, at least I still had a family. Until I pulled the plug on the money train.