Haven Bound

17. Chelsea

17

Chelsea

The few days that have passed since I last saw Austin have flown by in a blur. The bakery has thankfully had a steady flow of customers, which Quinn and I have been working hard to keep up with. I haven’t seen Austin since the morning he was here with Zack, though I can’t help but look up every time the bakery door opens, hoping that it’ll be him.

When I asked Hailey about his absence, she said he was busy with work, which makes sense. He’s been away from Haven Beach for so long that I imagine he has quite a bit to catch up on. I have no idea what exactly goes into the inner workings of hotel operations, but I’m surprised Austin’s been able to handle any of it through the years that he’s been gone. I can’t imagine that running a hotel is something that can be done well from a distance. It seems like something that would require a physical presence, but what do I know?

Thinking about all of the years he spent away reminds me of the way he left without warning, and a sick feeling of dread fills my stomach. I have no idea why he left, why he’s back, or even how long he’s staying. And I’ve already started to let him back in without question.

Is it any wonder how I’ve ended up with such terrible relationships in my life? I’m always so quick to trust and always, always, always end up getting stabbed in the back or having my heart shattered as a result. Of course, I can step back to look at a past situation and realize just how much I was being manipulated at the time. But not while I’m in the midst of it all.

That’s when my people-pleaser tendencies take over and I just want to make sure that everyone’s happy. Even if it means my boundaries are obliterated in the process.

My relationship with Jason wasn’t any different. Things between us started out great. He was kind, thoughtful, and attentive. Looking back, he did always seem quick to anger, but the kindness he would show me when the anger wasn’t present somehow made me believe that it was okay, that it wasn’t that bad. It was a whirlwind romance, and I found myself getting completely lost in him.

I didn’t hesitate to say yes when he asked me to move in with him. In my head, we were ready for that step. I figured we were headed there anyway, so why not do it sooner rather than later?

I’ve spent far too much of my life taking care of other people and feeling alone. Just once, I wanted someone to take care of me and put me first. For a while, I imagined Jason being that person. Things between us changed drastically once I moved in with him.

He’d come home from work and complain if the apartment wasn’t perfectly clean or if dinner wasn’t ready as soon as he walked through the door. I was spending all of my time getting Buttersweet Bakery off the ground, had just brought on Quinn to help with daily operations, and like him, I was exhausted.

He didn’t care about any of that, though. He didn’t care about my business, my friends, my family, or even really about me. All he cared about was what I could do for him. But in those dark moments, I would remember how sweet he could be, and that was enough for me to stay.

Because the alternative was that I’d be alone.

Austin was gone.

The dreams I had for us, the dreams that I thought we shared, vanished right alongside him.

Now, with the threat of Jason constantly hanging over my head, I don’t dare let myself imagine a future where I get to be happy. I’ve accepted that my life will forever be veiled in darkness and disappointment. A life spent taking care of others but never being taken care of.

As easy as it is to dwell on the past and everything that could have been, I need to keep my head out of the dark. I’m supposed to be meeting Hailey for a “girl’s night in” at the Elysian tonight, but Buttersweet has been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to text her and make sure we’re still on.

She said she was going to schedule massages for us at their spa, and then we’ll probably take over a vacant suite and take full advantage of room service while we lay around and watch some trashy TV shows. It sounds like the perfect way to drown out my troubles.

My mom has called and texted several times today, leaving messages telling me that I need to call her. I haven’t had a chance to get back to her, but knowing her, she just needs me to do something for her and it can wait until later. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with any of her drama and selfishness right now.

Despite that, the busy nature of the bakery has kept my mind mostly out of the dark and focused on customers, except for the gray sedan that’s been parked on the main street outside all day. The car is sitting across the street—directly within my line of sight when I’m standing at the register—and a hint of nausea mixed with panic swirls in my stomach every time I look up to see it.

The rational side of my brain tells me that I’m overthinking it and worrying about nothing. But theside that’s filled with anxiety and that always assumes the worst-case scenarios will come to pass doesn’t like it.

Quinn pops her head back into the kitchen as I’m sliding a covered tray of cookie dough into one of the large commercial refrigerators. “Hey, Chels, are you still okay with me leaving a little early? I’ve got an appointment that I can’t miss.”

I forgot she was taking off early today. The idea of being here alone kind of freaks me out right now, but I can’t ask her to stay when I know she has somewhere else to be. At least I have the comfort of the new security system and knowing that it's being monitored.

“Go for it! I’ve got this.” All I really need to do is finish prepping a few recipes, which she wouldn’t be helping with anyway, and then get everything cleaned up.

“Thanks, I’ll make it up by staying late for my next shift,” Quinn says as she unties her apron from her waist.

“Don’t worry about it, Quinn. I appreciate everything you do to help me around here. Plus, you’re not leaving that early. Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”

She pulls her blonde hair down from her messy top-knot and runs her fingers through the tresses before pulling it back up into a ponytail. “I’ll be okay. I called for an Uber already. Thanks, though!”

Quinn has never been super upfront with personal details, but I do know that she doesn’t have a car and mostly uses public transportation, her bicycle, or transport services to get around town. I know what it’s like to be ashamed of certain aspects of your life and to want to keep the details to yourself, so I’ve never pried.

“Do me a favor and text me when you get there, okay? Just so I know that you’re safe.” She smiles and assures me that she’ll text as she heads out the door, double-checking the model and color of the vehicle on her phone before she climbs into it.

She almost always turns me down any time I ever offer to drive her, and I understand that too. I hate it when I feel like I’m inconveniencing people or being a burden. The damn car that’s been parked outside all day has me on edge.

With Quinn gone, I decide to err on the side of caution and lock up a little bit early. Not too many customers trickle in this late anyway. With the girl’s night that Hailey and I have planned, I throw all of the remaining cookies and the few mini bundt cakes into a blue bakery box, knowing that at some point we’ll both be looking for something sweet to eat.

Popping in my wireless Bluetooth earbuds and setting up my playlist, I power through getting everything cleaned up and disinfected in no time. When I’m finally done, I untie my apron from around my waist and hang it up with the others before doing one last check of the storefront area.

After Austin came by and installed the new security cameras, he also had some new window shades installed that, when lowered, make it impossible to see inside through the front windows. It seemed like a bit much at the time, but now I'm thankful for the little piece of extra security. As I’m rounding the corner of the counter to pull down the shades over the windows and the entry door, I notice the car that’s been sitting across the street all day is finally gone.

I knew that I was worrying about it for nothing. Shaking my head as I turn back around to head through the kitchen to the back door exit, my steps falter.

Sitting on the counter next to the register is a single deep red rose with a black satin ribbon tied around the stem.