Christmas at the Second Chance Chocolate Shop. Kellie Hailes
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and please believe me when I say that. But we aren’t going to work. We haven’t worked for a long time.’
‘Nope. Sorry. Can’t.’ Ritchie skirted the kitchen island until he was standing opposite her. ‘We made promises, Serena. Vows. Remember those? To stand strong together. To bend with the winds but never to snap. To roll with the tides but never let them drown us. To never let the hottest sun sear our love. To never allow the frost to freeze each other out. But you did exactly that, Serena. You froze me out, big time.’
‘Really, Ritchie? Is that how things played out for you? Is that how you see it?’ She dragged her eyes away from the rocky road and met Ritchie’s gaze. Her chest constricted even further as she saw hurt dulling his eyes. The confident sparkle doused. ‘You froze me out years ago. Not the other way around. We were only happy at the beginning because we were riding the fame rollercoaster together. It was the adrenaline that kept us rolling, not anything deep, anything meaningful.’
Ritchie’s hands clasped the edge of the counter. A vein throbbed at his temple. ‘Well, I’m so sorry our relationship was so shallow for you. But I didn’t see you complaining about the private jets, the endless five-star hotels, the gourmet food and drink, the people willing to bend over backwards to make us happy.’
Serena swiped the back of her hand over her brow, refusing to let him get a rise out of her. She wasn’t going to be the crazy harridan, the emotional one, the fire to his ice. ‘And I didn’t. But it wasn’t enough to keep me with you.’
‘Well what would have been enough?’ The words sounded reasonable, but she could see that Ritchie was teetering on the knife-edge between appearing calm and shutting down altogether. Time away from her hadn’t changed him, but then Serena suspected nothing and no one could.
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. This was a different version of the same conversation they’d been having for years. Her trying to show Ritchie she needed him to be more than a rock star. To be more than a man who craved adoration the way she craved independence.
How ironic was it that she’d managed to flee one smothering all-encompassing relationship only to fly into another?
She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘What would have been enough was you doing the one thing you refused to do, no matter how many times I asked. I just wanted you to stop keeping me at an arm’s length, Ritchie. To stop treating me like a favoured groupie. Because that’s how it felt. I was your wife, we were supposed to be a team, but you never really let me in. You glossed over things with me the way you would in interviews. We were together for ten years and I never felt I knew the real you.’
Ritchie held his hands out to Serena, palms open, fingers splayed. ‘But you did, sweet thing. I gave more to you than anyone else.’
Serena didn’t doubt the sincerity of his words. She knew he’d shown hints of vulnerability with her, that he’d never dared to show anyone else. Moments of uncertainty, covered up with a joke. Seconds of sadness, pushed aside when she’d asked what made his lips turn towards the floor. Hell, his being here, even with all the bravado and confidence, was proof of that.
‘I know you did, Ritchie, but it wasn’t enough. There was always an invisible wall that I couldn’t knock down, couldn’t bust through. And I got tired of trying.’
‘So you ran away.’ Ritchie dropped his hands to his side. The fleeting desolation in his eyes had been replaced by his customary ice-cold hardness.
‘I left. It’s not the same as running away. There was a note.’ Serena grabbed the pan, walked it over to the kitchen sink, and placed it in the warm, soapy water. Picking up a scrubbing brush, she began to clean off the chocolate hardening on its surface, glad to have a reason to turn away from Ritchie. If he saw a hint of the guilt she carried for leaving the way she did he’d take it to mean she wish she’d stayed.
‘A note that said bugger all. “I’m sorry. Don’t follow me” isn’t a note, it’s an insult to all that we shared.’
‘And you coming here when I asked you not to is what?’ The nylon bristles of the brush flattened as she took her frustration out on the stainless steel.
‘I was hoping it would show you I’m serious about our marriage. About us. Even if you aren’t.’
Serena dropped the brush with a splash and spun round to face Ritchie, her attempt at calmness evaporating. ‘I was! I took care of us for years. I took care of you. Who stopped you from sliding into a drug and alcohol haze? Your career was about to be over. You were showing up late to concerts, doing a half-arsed job. You were late with your next album. Had it not been for me you’d have been done. A has-been. At least I had the courtesy to leave you while you were on top. When you wouldn’t need me.’ She braced herself against the bench, gripped the edge, refusing to break eye contact. She would not be railroaded into doing anything she didn’t want to do. She’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
Ritchie ran his hand through his wavy deep-brown hair, and his chest heaved up and down in frustration. ‘So you don’t think I… what? Talked enough with you? Didn’t let you have your say? You think I’m not the kind of man who could let you have control? Take the lead? And because of that you don’t want to be part of my life anymore. Fine.’
Serena blinked, hard and fast. Was she hearing things? Was Ritchie giving up? ‘Good. We’re on the same page. Finally.’
Ritchie nodded. ‘We are. I now know what I have to do. I have to prove to you that I can change. That I can be different. I have to show you I can be the man you need me to be. So I’m going to stay and prove you wrong. My duffel bag’s in the rental. I’ll go grab it. I’m guessing your bedroom is upstairs?’ He jerked his head towards the door that led to the living quarters above the shop.
‘What?’ Serena spluttered. ‘What are you on about? You can’t stay here. I’ve told you to go. This is Rabbits Leap, Ritchie. It’s not the kind of place a rock star wants to stay in. There’s nothing here to amuse you. There are no strip clubs. There are no gambling dens. No women sitting poolside in tiny string bikinis…’ Serena knew she was failing as Ritchie’s lips grinned wider with each of her excuses.
‘You know I don’t care for strip clubs, or gambling, and the only woman I like to see in a string bikini is you. So really, at this point in time, I think Rabbits Leap would suit me quite well.’
‘But aren’t you meant to be working on your album? You can’t very well do it here.’ Just leave, Ritchie, Serena prayed. It had been easy enough to deal with leaving him when he was thousands of miles away, but to have him in her space? Breathing the same air? Sucking the oxygen from the room, leaving her light-headed and dizzy? She knew she might just succumb to his will.
She realised he’d paused. His skin had taken on an uneasy pallor. What had she just said? The album. Was something up with the album? ‘Is everything alright with …’ she stopped herself. No. He wasn’t her problem now. It wasn’t her job to save him. If something was wrong he would have to figure it out himself. Preferably from their home. No. His home. In LA
‘Everything is fine with the album.’ Ritchie’s gaze shifted to his feet. ‘Dandy in fact. But I think a change of environment will be good for me. All this brisk wintry air will do me well. Get the creative juices flowing good and proper. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll get my bag and head up to bed. All this travelling has left me buggered.’ He strode towards the door, paused, and looked over his shoulder. ‘One thing, Serena. I remember you talking about that cone of silence thingy that you lot have going on here for that rugby player… what’s his name… Harper? To make sure he can holiday without being hassled? I’d like that to be extended to me. I mean we’re still married, which means I’m kind of local.’
‘You’ve not once stepped foot in Rabbits Leap, Ritchie. You’re hardly one of us.’ Serena folded her arms and shot him her most scornful look.
‘Well I have now. And I am still family. Come on, sweet thing… it’s the least you can do for me after