Ria wasn’t his.
She wasn’t anyone’s.
She was a human being with her own mind and her own life and her own will and her own desires.
For a while, she’d wanted to share some of who she was with him, but that time was over now.
He’d made his own decisions a long time ago, and those decisions had led to this.
Four
ON FRIDAY OF THE FOLLOWING week, Ria sat in her car in front of the old Worth house and tried to remember the last time she’d been there.
It was the day before her high school graduation. She’d come over to hang out with Jacob for the afternoon, and they’d sat for a couple of hours on the freestanding bench swing in the backyard, talking about college and future plans.
Jacob had been planning to go to UVA with her. He’d been enrolled. He’d had a spot in the dorms. He’d done everything just like she had.
Then he’d changed his mind and dropped out the very next day.
She still didn’t understand it. He’d said his grandfather thought it was better for him to work for a while before college, but surely Jacob hadn’t had to do what his grandfather demanded. He’d been eighteen. He could have done what he wanted. Even if he’d changed his mind about college, he didn’t have to cut all ties with her.
He could have gotten a job in Charlottesville. Or he could have stayed in Azalea, and she would still have seen him every time she visited home.
There was absolutely no reason to carve her out of his life completely because of some weird whim of his grandfather’s, but that was exactly what he’d done.
It still hurt so bad. More so now that she’d seen him again. Remembered the sound of his voice. The look in his eyes. He might have changed more than she could have imagined, but there was still enough of him in him for her to vividly recall what they’d had.
What he’d thrown away.
And last weekend she’d had to suffer through an unwanted date with Billy Perkins because she’d been so rattled about Jacob and determined to prove he didn’t affect her anymore. The date had been awkward. She hadn’t enjoyed it. But Billy had called her twice already this week, probably wanting to go out again.
All because she’d wanted to prove something to Jacob.
She was so stupid.
What happened to her plan to be cool and composed and completely unconcerned about anything to do with Jacob Worth?
With a sudden flare of nerves, she glanced down at her phone to verify the text she’d received from Martha, who’d cooked and cleaned for old Mr. Worth for longer than Ria had been alive.
Mr. Worth wanted to talk to her about flowers for his funeral. He wanted Ria to come over this afternoon if possible.
She’d worked with people before on their funeral plans, but not when they were as close to dying as Mr. Worth evidently was. This felt weird. Unnatural. She didn’t want to do it and not just because he was Jacob’s grandfather.
But he evidently cared enough about this to summon her from his deathbed, so she’d come immediately.
Maybe Jacob wouldn’t be around.
Having verified for the fourth or fifth time that she was indeed invited, she climbed out of her car and smoothed down her cute little skirt. She was glad she’d dressed up more than usual today. Her black-and-white-striped skirt was quite casual—especially when paired with the sleeveless black top—but it looked a little more professional than the jeans or capris she normally wore.
Plus, if she happened to encounter Jacob, she would look good.
Martha greeted her at the door and brought her upstairs to Mr. Worth’s bedroom. The house seemed otherwise empty, so Ria decided with a sinking sense of disappointment that Jacob wasn’t even there.
She should be relieved. She shouldn’t feel disappointed. As if all the excitement had leaked out of the world.
Mr. Worth had always been a big, tanned, hard-looking man, so Ria paused for a moment when she entered the bedroom, stunned by the change the past six months had made in him. He was way too thin. Way too pale. He still had some thin hair, but it was in wild disarray.
He looked nothing like the man she remembered.
“Hi, Mr. Worth,” she said with a smile, quickly recovering herself when his eyes landed on her. “It’s Ria. Martha said you wanted me to come over.”
“Oh. Yeah. Good. Sit down, girl.” His voice was weaker but just as gruff and abrupt as it used to be.
She used to be so terrified that he’d yell at her. Pulling a chair closer to the bed, she sat down and leaned forward. “How are you doing, sir?”
“Not good. Not good at all. Don’t have much time left.”
“I’m very sorry about that.”
“Are you?” His eyes were hazel just like Jacob’s—shifting between gray and green, depending on the light. “Can’t imagine why. Thought you’d hate the sight of me.”
“Why would I hate the sight of you, Mr. Worth?” Ria was baffled by this strange conversation, and her voice reflected her confusion.
“For what I did to Jacob. But I still think it was right. Boy was too soft. Men need to be men. Can’t be coddled. And look how well he turned out. Did the right thing. I did. It was hard, but it was right.”
Maybe his declining health had affected his mind. Ria had no idea what the context of all this was, but the possibilities were tightening in her stomach and pumping through her veins. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. What did you do to Jacob?”
The old man stared at her for a long time. Too long. She was holding her breath, waiting to see what he’d say.
“We’re here to talk about my funeral.”
She exhaled in a loud gust, her shoulders slumping just a little. “Of course. I’ll be happy
