Beginning of the End
Author: Kylie Scott
Date: 2023-01-02 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Novella; Contemporary; Short Stories; Contemporary Romance; Fiction; Drama; Chick Lit; Realistic Fiction
Description: When her boyfriend announces he’s accepted a yearlong contract in London, Susie’s relieved that Aaron suggests a long-distance relationship. But then it makes her think. Is it her imagination, or does he seem just a little too eager to leave? Is she reading too much into his excitement to hit the British pub scene? And all relationships cool off after a while…right? As Aaron’s departure approaches, Susie confides in her favorite aunt and best friend to help her figure out—is this the beginning of the end or just the beginning of something even better? Don’t miss this sharp and sassy prequel no
Publisher: Graydon House

If you like Beginning of the End, find out what happens next for Susie in
End of Story

Advance praise for End of Story

“With its unique setup, End of Story had me hooked from the first page. Scott’s winning recipe blends top-notch banter, a hunky hero, and the charming enigma at the core of the plot into a dish both sweet and spicy. I couldn’t wait to find out what would happen!”

—Anna E. Collins, author of Love at First Spite

“I am in awe of Kylie Scott’s ability to create heroines I’d love as a bestie, a hero to fall head over heels for. I devoured End of Story and adored every page of this hilarious, emotional page-turner. End of Story has shot straight to the top of my favorite list! It’s the perfect balance of wit, steam and heartwarming romance with a dynamic cast of characters that pop off the page. A must read!”

—Helena Hunting, New York Times bestselling author

“Angsty, addictive, warm, and loving! Lars is my new man. A HUGE recommendation from me.”

—Tijan, New York Times bestselling author

Beginning of the End

Kylie Scott

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Acknowledgments

Kylie’s Playlist

One

“You’re moving to London?” I asked stupidly for the second time.

“It’s a big opportunity for me.” Aaron pushed aside the remains of his short rib vermicelli noodles. As if he’d suddenly found them distasteful. This wasn’t the first pout he’d pulled on one of our dates. Being an only child, he tended to be used to getting things his own way. Which could be kind of frustrating. We’d been a couple for a while. Long enough for the honeymoon period to be over, apparently. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I, um...yeah. It’s just a surprise, you know?”

A frown crossed his handsome face. “I’ll only be gone for a year.”

Around us, people ate and chatted and enjoyed their Tuesday night out. The Vietnamese café was a popular spot by the water in Ballard, Seattle. It had a high ceiling and cool, modern pendant lights. And the people at the next table had now picked up on my boyfriend’s unhappy vibe and terse tone of voice and were not-so-subtly listening to our conversation. Ugh. People. Seriously. If only you could order a cone of silence along with your entrée.

“Of course I’m excited for you,” I said.

“Are you?”

After almost a year with Aaron, it was depressing as all hell to know I still wasn’t getting this relationship stuff right. Still not supporting him in the way that he wanted. I turned thirty this year. It shouldn’t have been this hard. But here we were. Our initial plans for tonight were to have dinner at my place, order some delivery, and relax. Then at the last minute he changed his mind and wanted to go out instead. Call me curious.

“Did you decide to tell me in a restaurant because you were worried I’d get upset?” I blurted out before sanity could stop me. My mouth was like that sometimes: no filter to be found.

“What?” He hesitated for a moment. “No. Of course not.”

“Okay.”

“Why would you even think that?”

“I don’t know...”

“You’re my partner, Susie. My girlfriend.” He smoothed a hand over his slick dark hair and straightened his tie. “I wanted to go out and celebrate, share this important news with you.”

I just nodded. Something inside of me, however, was unsettled. I was not quite convinced. Time to pull up my big-girl panties and ask the big question. “How do you see this affecting us, Aaron?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged and slumped back in his seat. Which was not promising. “Why does anything have to change?”

“We’ll be living in different countries for a start. That’s kind of big.”

“Yeah.” His gaze skipped around the room. “But like I said, it’s temporary.”

Sitting on the edge of my seat, I leaned in closer to him, just narrowly avoiding dipping my ample bosom and my new black cashmere sweater in the bowl of spicy lemongrass tofu. “So you’re saying you want us to try a long-distance relationship? Is that what you’re saying?”

He jerked his chin in a nod. And that was all.

“Okay.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “For a minute there I thought you were breaking up with me.”

“You and your imagination. You’re always so emotional.” He reached out and patted my hand with a smile. “We’re having fun, aren’t we? We’re good together?”

“Sure.”

“That’s what matters.” He picked up his beer and downed a mouthful. All while the women at the next table watched on admiringly. It happened all the time. Aaron was movie-star handsome. Six feet tall with dark hair and an athletic build, while I was of average height and weight with pasty skin that refused to tan. We complemented each other, I think. But I digress. Add Aaron’s natural confidence and a nice-fitting suit and you had a man who commanded a lot of attention. He basically looked like a modern Prince Charming. So it was a pity he was a little backward about his feelings. However, no one was perfect. I was most certainly not, but still the man chose me. And considering I didn’t have the greatest track record with relationships, I counted this as a total win.

The longer I sat there and thought about us being in a long-distance relationship, the more positives came to mind. Things had been a little off between us lately. The last few months, I guess. His tendency to get wrapped up in his work and friends and so on had escalated. Sometimes it seemed as if I wasn’t a priority. Like I hadn’t made it onto his to-do list. And it had been a while since I had felt like I had his full attention.

The sex had also become a bit hit-or-miss, if I was being completely honest. Like the last six months or so. Things had become routine, as opposed to the frenzied railing from back in the early days. I tried buying lingerie and setting the scene with candles and mood music. But still, it was perfunctory. He came, and I did not. Or, at least, I didn’t come until later when I could take care of business alone.

But every relationship goes through growth periods, right?

I was committed to making this work. When I thought of the future, it was with Aaron at my side. My parents divorced when I was young. Without a doubt, they had not modeled a healthy, loving relationship. It was as if they had long since given up on each other by the time my brother Andrew and I were born. I would not be doing the same. This relationship was my longest ever, and it could and would work.

We’d met outside a bar one night when my car wouldn’t start. Aaron and his friend Lars stopped to help. While Aaron and I flirted, Lars figured out I needed a new battery. He even knew a service to call who would bring it around right away. Talk about being handy. Once it was sorted, I bought them a couple of rounds of drinks to say thanks. Aaron was charming and attentive and perfect, really. Just perfect. The man swept me off my feet. He listened when I talked and took me and my thoughts and feelings seriously. And I knew we could get back to that.

If Aaron and I were half a world apart from each other, it might give him more of a chance to miss me and what we had together. At the end of the day, it might be just what we needed. You never know. With time apart, we might build the desire anew. I don’t know. It was a working theory.

Then there was the idea of me visiting him in London. How exciting! Oh, the shopping and sightseeing I would do.

“A week isn’t long for you to get organized.” I tugged on my braid. An old nervous habit. “When did they tell you? When did you decide to accept the position?”

“Not long,” he hedged. “A little while. It doesn’t matter.”

“O-okay.” It was time to let my reservations go. The last thing this conversation needed was more tension. Now and then in this relationship, it seemed prudent to let my toxic positivity take over. That bitch could smile through anything. “How about I host a going-away party for you next weekend? Give all of your friends a chance to say bon voyage!”

“That would be great, babe.” He finally smiled. “But make it Friday. Mom wants to do something Saturday. Just family. You understand.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

“And let’s have it at a restaurant.”

I frowned. “That’s not much notice to book somewhere.”

“Yeah, but you know your roommate and I don’t really get along. Having it at your place could be awkward.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“You’re the best,” he said with a smile. And everything was fine. Totally fine.

“Wait. He’s just up and leaving?” Cleo sat opposite me on the couch. “For a whole damn year? Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

We had a nice two-bedroom condo on Avalon Way in West Seattle. It was part of a large, newish complex across from the golf course. Though anywhere that was walking distance to Trader Joe’s, Thai, Mexican, and barbecue was good with me. Food delivery was my happy place. The kitchen/dining/living area was open plan, and we shared the one bathroom. Considering the amount of makeup and skin care we both owned, this required some organization and compromise. But we’d been hanging together for years. We met through work; she’s a photographer, and I am a social-media manager. A great combination. We also shared a love of ice cream and romance books. Our friendship was solid.

“And you’re okay with this?” she asked.

“It’s his life.” I shrugged. “You know how ambitious he is. This move should fast-track him for the corner office he’s been dreaming about. You should see how excited he is.”

Cleo was already in her pajamas and wearing a red satin sleeping bonnet. “It’s your feelings regarding the move I’m worried about.”

“I’m fine.”

She narrowed her gaze on me. “Are you, Susie? Are you, really?”

“Not going to lie. It threw me at first. It was my own fault for wondering if the last-minute change to our date plans meant he might have been going to ask me to move in with him,” I admitted with a wince. “Stupid, I know.”

Her lopsided smile was less than supportive. And fair enough.

“Not that it would necessarily be a good idea right now,” I said in a rush. “Though, it might have been the impetus for him agreeing to some couples therapy which wouldn’t hurt. But I digress... I started thinking about him moving to London for a year and...this could actually be good for us.”

“Please explain.”

“First, some time apart to test our resolve to stay together. To see if our relationship has what it takes to go the distance.”

“Right.” She nodded. “What else?”

I unzipped my cool high-heel black leather booties and freed my poor sore feet. “A little distance might make the heart grow fonder.”

“You think this move might make him finally appreciate you?”

“He’s not that bad. But yeah. Maybe.”

Cleo had gone through a hellish divorce a few years back. Her opinion of men and relationships was not great. Though, she finally started seeing someone, a local barista named Josh. It took him months of patience to convince her to give him a chance. She seemed cautiously happy dating the man. Which was beautiful to see.

“I know you love him,” she said with a grim smile. “But...”

“Yeah. We’ve had this talk. It would be nice if you two got along, but not everyone does.”

She nodded. “We have had this talk. Many times. Can’t help feeling this world would be a better place if our hearts were a little smarter.”

“Maybe.”

“So you need a restaurant for Saturday night?”

“Friday,” I said. “His mom is doing something Saturday. Family only.”

She gave me the look.

“I know, I know. But they’re a tight-knit bunch. I really feel like I’m making inroads with his mom, though. Like I’m on the cusp of getting an invitation to these elusive family-only events.”

Cleo just shook her head.

I shrugged. “It’s a beautiful dream.”

“Family can be complicated as fuck. But I would like the man a whole lot better if he showed the littlest inclination of having your back.”

While I tried to be a positive person and stand by my man, I didn’t know what to say to that. It had all been said before. Time would tell.

It took approximately five hundred phone calls, but I found a nice local bar and grill for the party. I could catch up on my work over the weekend; making this night good for Aaron was my priority. I wore my long dark hair in a knot and a black body-con dress with bootie heels. The ensemble made the most of my curves to remind my boyfriend what he’d be missing out on. And what he would be coming home to in a year.

When I called my beloved Aunt Susan for some advice Wednesday night, she recommended I send him away with a smile, thus ensuring he wanted to return ASAP. So that was the plan. Though she had never been married, Aunt Susan was wise in all the ways. After my parents separated, she basically raised me. We talked about everything and anything. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what her opinion would be on the scene playing out before me now.

Friday night, an hour and a half into the going-away party, Aaron was drunk. Not happy tipsy but spill-your-drink messy. Some friends from his office were buying him shots. They stood at the bar, shouting out the words to some song, and ugh. Meanwhile I sat at the long table reserved for our party, playing hostess with a bunch of his other friends and acquaintances. Not awkward at all.

“You okay?” asked Lars.

I pasted on a smile. “Sure.”

Lars was blond with tanned skin and lumberjack hot. More mountain man than hipster. He worked as a contractor and had the muscles and general air of unkempt to prove it. Being Aaron’s best friend, Lars was often invited along when we went to the movies or out to bars. We’d spent quality time together over the last year. He tended to be quieter and more serious in nature than his bestie. They make for an interesting mix.

And Lars’s girlfriend, Jane, was not only stylish but a hoot. She was also bluntly honest. “Can’t you talk to him?” she asked Lars, unimpressed.

“Bit late for that,” grumbled Lars.

“He’s thirty-five. What the fuck is he doing acting like a frat boy?”

I just shrugged. “It’s his party. Guess he can get wasted if he wants to.”

Lars frowned but kept his mouth shut.

“It’s probably the stress of it all, catching up with him,” I said. “A lot of organizing things and so on.”

“You’re a good woman making excuses for him.” Jane flipped her hair over her shoulder. “And you look gorgeous tonight, if I haven’t said so already. Lars, tell Susie how magnificent she looks.”

Lars just shrugged. “She always looks gorgeous.”

The warmth that kindled in my chest at their words—I must really have been in need of some kindness. “Thank you.”

Lars set down his drink and looked me dead in the eye. “It’s just the truth, Susie.”

I smiled, and he smiled back at me. And maybe tonight wasn’t quite so bad after all.

“You made her smile. Excellent complimenting. Job well done.” Jane patted one of his thick shoulders. An attractive young waiter approached the table with our meals, and she gave him a broad smile. “Hello there! This looks delicious! What’s your name?”

Suddenly, Lars frowned to the nth degree. I wondered what that was about.

“I’ll go tell him dinner is being served.” I pushed my chair back and smoothed down the front of my dress. Not that Aaron even noticed the effort I put into looking my best. I’d got a distracted peck on the cheek at the start of the night and that was all. Guess he had a lot on his mind.

He and two of his work buddies made a tight, rowdy group standing at the end of the bar. Drinking this much wasn’t normal for Aaron. But then again, it was a momentous occasion. Moving overseas and starting a new job and all. I just had to be patient and understanding. This too would pass. We hadn’t made plans yet for his last few days stateside. I was sure, however, that we would get to have some quality alone time. A chance to say goodbye properly. Something involving banging and romance because balance was everything.

“Aaron?” I smiled and slipped my hand into his. “They’re serving dinner.”

“Huh?”

“Hey. They’re serving dinner.”

He blinked down at me and frowned. Then he shook me off and said, “We’ll be there in a minute, Susie.”

“All right.”

“C’mon, man.” Lars appeared at my side. He slapped Aaron on the back and smiled. “Come and make a speech. Talk to some of your other guests. I’ve hardly seen you all night.”

With a sloppy grin, Aaron followed his best friend back to the table.

I was invisible, I guess. It was the only possible explanation. A knot of tension rolled tighter in my stomach. The thought of eating did not thrill me. But I took a seat at my boyfriend’s side and smiled my prettiest smile. Tonight might not be going how I’d hoped it would, but whatever. Aaron was clearly having the time of his life. It would all be fine.

“What did you order?” asked Lars, seated opposite me.

“Crab cakes. What about you?”

“Shrimp and grits.”

“Ooh, good choice. We swapping plates halfway through?”

Lars nodded. “Absolutely. Save me some of the lemon.”

“You two are so weird with your food thing,” said Jane with a laugh.

I shrugged. “Trying more items off the menu is always worthwhile.”

Lars was too busy eating to answer.

With a lurch, Aaron got to his feet, a glass of whiskey in hand. Like he needed more. Guess he’d decided to make a speech after all. “Hey, everyone. Thanks for being here tonight.”

All twelve or so people who’d come out to wish him bon voyage fell silent. Quite a few had had other plans. But I had managed to get his core group of people from work and the gym and so on. The sound of silverware being set down and the music blasting out of the stereo filled the air. I took a sip of my sparkling water. One of us ought to be sober in case a coherent adult was needed.

And it didn’t matter that he didn’t thank me for organizing the party. Though, that would have been nice. Instead, he swayed on his feet and said, “Being offered this promotion was a...a real big deal, and I am so happy to get to see you all before I go. Real happy. This is a great night. The job is going to be fucking amazing. I can’t wait to get there and get started.”

He paused, and a couple of people politely clapped.

“Not finished yet,” he slurred. “That’s just the professional side of things. Personally, I can’t wait to get to London and enjoy everything, if you know what I mean.” Then he laughed and made a solid attempt at a wink. Which was not wildly dubious. At all.

What in the actual hell? I froze as almost every pair of eyes at the table fixed on me. My skin burned with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. In my lifetime’s top-ten most humiliating moments, this was the clear new winner.

Some idiot down at the end of the table shouted out, “Yeah, man! Go get it!”

Next came the sound of bro laughter.

“Did he just...” Jane said with her mouth hanging open in horror. “Holy shit.”

Lars gave her hand a squeeze. A silent plea for her to shut up if I ever did see one. Meanwhile, my idiot boyfriend sat down and drunkenly high-fived the two equally inebriated bros down at our end. The silence at the table continued until Lars picked up his fork and recommenced eating, as if nothing had happened. Jane followed his example, and then so did others.

This was not happening to me. Seriously.

I leaned closer to my boyfriend and asked in a low voice, “Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you mean by everything London has to offer?”

He scoffed. “Nothing, babe. Don’t worry about it.”

“Um. No. It wasn’t nothing. And I definitely am worried about it.” I licked my lips and chose my words with care. “You said you wanted us to try a long-distance relationship.”

“Yeah?”

I tried to offer him a smile, but it didn’t happen. My mouth wouldn’t tolerate the lie, apparently. “That’s what you want? You haven’t changed your mind?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “But you also just insinuated that you’re looking forward to fucking around on me. So you can see how I might be a little confused.”

He let his fork drop, clattering on his plate. “Dammit, Susie, that’s not what I said. And you know I don’t like it when you talk like that. Ladies shouldn’t use that sort of language.”

“Stop being a hypocrite, and answer the fucking question.”

He winced as he gazed down the length of the table from beneath dark brows. As if he was worried people were listening to our conversation. “You and your jealousy. You’re always jumping to conclusions. To be brutally honest, this is part of why I’m going. To get some space from you.”

“What?”

“Can we just enjoy ourselves, please?”

I sat back in my chair and stared at him. Studied him, really. The way his shoulders were hunched over and how his jaw was clenched. Like he was hiding a secret or something. “Aaron, look at me.”

“What?” He stared at his plate. “Stop it. You’re causing a scene.”

“Look at me.”

“What?” he growled and finally met my eyes.

“Are you planning on cheating on me in London?”

He turned his face away. “Stop being ridiculous. God, you’re embarrassing. You’re ruining everything.”

My back snapped straight. It was like a light bulb had been turned on inside my head. And all of the metaphorical cockroaches scuttling for the shadows were... Whoa. It was heartbreaking and horrible in equal measure. The mess I had made. The familiarity of feeling this way, of knowing something was wrong. Only this time, I wasn’t falling for his bullshit that it was all my fault. I wouldn’t allow him to turn it around on me. I was well aware of my various issues and neuroses, but it wasn’t them leading me astray. It was him.

How had I ignored the signs? What had happened to me? Somewhere along the way I had gone from being kick-ass to wearing a sign that said Kick me.

“The problem is, Aaron, you’re not as good a liar as you think you are. It just took me a while to see.”

“That’s enough, Susie,” he hissed. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“No. I think we should discuss it now.”

He screwed up his handsome face and hit the table with the flat of his hand, making it shake. Making me jump in my chair. And hell, if everyone hadn’t known something was going on before, they sure did now. “That’s it,” he yelled. “I’ve had enough. We’re through.”

“Hey,” said Lars in his deep voice. “Calm down.”

“Yeah. We’re done here.” I placed the napkin on the table, stood tall, and squared my shoulders. No way would this asshole see me cry. I refused to give him the satisfaction. “Have a nice life, Aaron.”

Two

“I thought I heard someone out here.” Aunt Susan, my namesake, joined me on the front steps of her house. It was a little after nine, the night of Aaron’s going-away party.

She owned an old two-bedroom cottage in Ballard. The place had definitely seen better days. But for all intents and purposes, it was still my home. As a child, I only ever felt welcome here. Both of my parents were too busy getting on with their lives after the divorce to have time for their kids. Andrew just wanted to go to his friends’ houses. Aunt Susan, however, always had time for me. So of course this was where I ran when my life went to shit. This was my safe place. My refuge. Despite it becoming battered and crowded with junk over the years.

“Susie.” She tightly wrapped her pink fleece robe around her and tucked a strand of long silver hair behind an ear. “What are you doing sitting out here in the dark?”

“I was working my way up to coming inside. Just wanted to get myself under control first.” It was a damn cold night. I huddled down in my woolen coat with my black Alexander McQueen scarf wrapped tight around my neck and noisily blew my nose into a tissue. “Aaron and I broke up.”

“Oh, my love.” She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Neither you nor Cleo even liked him. Which should have been a major red flag yet somehow wasn’t. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

“We can’t always help where our heart leads us.”

“Yeah.” I hiccupped and swiped the tears off my face. My makeup must have been a mess. I probably looked like an ugly clown-woman with a broken heart. It wasn’t too far from the truth. Aaron had treated me like a joke for long enough. And I let him—let’s not forget that damn salient detail. “I really did have feelings for him. I thought we could make it work. Now, though...”

She said nothing. Just patiently waited for me to pour out my woes. Just like she always had. She smelled of the lavender she picked off the bushes at the front of her house and slipped in among her clothes drawers. Some things never changed.

“He got up and announced at dinner that he couldn’t wait to experience everything London had to offer,” I explained in a husky voice, thanks to my sore throat from crying. “Then he laughed and winked. And then he actually had the audacity to act like it didn’t mean anything and accused me of causing a scene when I asked him about it.”

“What an idiot.” Aunt Susan clicked her tongue. “As I recall, your father used to try to pull the same trick on your mom. Gaslight her to control the story and make her doubt herself. Divorcing my brother was the smartest thing that woman ever did. Apart from letting you spend so much time with me, of course.”

“Oh, man.” I sniffled and gave her a look. “Are you not-so-subtly telling me I’ve been searching for my asshole of a father in the men I’ve been dating?”

“I think I was more subtly telling you that you succeeded.”

“Great.”

She pressed a kiss to my temple. “Live and learn.”

“But I’m thirty now. I should know better!”

“Excuse you. I am almost sixty and still learning new things about myself and my place in this world and whatever is beyond,” she chided softly. “Some lessons just take as long as they take. There’s no rushing them. And issues left over from childhood can be some of the hardest to grapple with.”

“I guess so.”

“I’m sorry your heart is hurting. But at least you know you only want him. You don’t need him.”

“I know.”

She nodded sagely and said, “It can be hard to be alone sometimes. To not have someone special. Though, he never exactly treated you like you were special, did he?”

I flinched and kept my mouth shut. Which was telling.

“You are wonderful, bright, and so beautiful you blind me. Don’t accept less than your due, my love.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she said. “You want to come in and have a cup of cocoa?”

I shook my head. “No, thanks. I’m going to head home and get some sleep. Give Cleo the good news.”

“Fair enough. I should get to bed. Things have been so busy lately, I could use a decent night’s sleep.” She yawned and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “How about breakfast tomorrow morning? We could make waffles?”

“That would be great.”

I let myself into Aunt Susan’s house the next morning. After waking with a headache from all of the crying, I applied about a container’s worth of concealer, downed some Tylenol, and donned my most comfortable clothing. Baggy jeans with a hoodie and sneakers for the win. Clothes to hide and comfort me. Though, they were still black, because basically everything I owned was black.

Heartache was an utter bitch. But this too would pass. Cleo had been fast asleep when I got home last night. I had texted her the news and woken up to a barrage of supportive messages from her. It was nice to have a friend who had my back.

The cottage was quiet when I arrived a little after nine. Aunt Susan must have decided to sleep in. A car passed outside, but inside the cottage seemed like another world, one unto itself. None of the lights were on, but the winter sun peeked around the edges of the drawn curtains turning the space to shadows. My sleep had been restless and full of bad dreams. But stepping into this house smoothed out the worst of the rough edges. It soothed me. Here I was loved and accepted.

It was just what I needed after waking to voice mail from Aaron. The drunken idiot had called a little after two in the morning. He left a rambling speech offering me the chance to return to his good graces if I agreed to an open relationship and begged his forgiveness for my anger last night.

As fucking if. What a man-child. There would be no second-guessing my decision to walk away from our relationship. Aunt Susan was right: I didn’t need him. He’d never treated me like I was special. A hard truth to face, but a fact none the less. I’d wasted a year waiting for an asshole to see my worth when I should have had more respect for myself. Funny how things were always so damn obvious in hindsight. And by funny, I mean ugh.

The air inside the house was thick with dust and the scent of lavender. Aunt Susan attempted to keep the place clean. But the sheer amount of stuff she had made it difficult. A Christmas tree stood by the fireplace reminding me that the clock was ticking and I hadn’t even started shopping. What the hell had happened to this year?

In the living room, a collection of storage boxes had grown since my last visit. With the basement, attic, and back bedroom full to the brim, space in this place was at a premium. You might say Aunt Susan was a hoarder. And you’d be right. Her dislike of change was further reflected in the dated gold-flecked wallpaper and shag pile carpet, along with the original kitchen and bathroom from way back when. My grandparents, who’d owned the house before Aunt Susan, had a similar frame of mind. Hold onto everything, let go of nothing. The place was like a museum dedicated to things lost and forgotten. Didn’t matter. I still loved it here.

I knocked gently on Aunt Susan’s bedroom door and pushed it open. Nothing stirred on the bed. No noise was made. No rustling covers or squeaking mattress. Not even the soft in and out of her breathing. Something was wrong. An unwelcome thought crossed my mind, but I shoved it down as hard and fast as I could. I turned on the bedside lamp and a weak wash of light cast long shadows and illuminated the shape of her body beneath the blankets. She was so small she almost seemed like a child. Her eyes were closed, her hand beside her face on the pillow. As if she had been reaching for something when she fell asleep.

Only, she wasn’t asleep.

I don’t know how I knew. Guess it was the way the cottage was so quiet. Like it was holding its breath. Like it was in mourning. Aunt Susan loved to take up space, to make noise. Even asleep she would mouth-breathe and snore. Now here she lay, small and static. Her expression seemed peaceful, at least. I carefully sat on the edge of the mattress and touched her hand. Her skin was so cold. She must have been dead for hours. To see her this way was bizarre. As if whatever spark of magic that brought her to life had departed. But for some reason, I didn’t cry or scream. I just sat there holding her hand.

Grief settled over me like a second skin. There were no suitable words to describe the loss. The weight of her absence. I was here, and she was gone, and that was that. If I had known that last night was my last time with her, I wouldn’t have wasted it moaning about Aaron, that’s for sure. A hundred and one things came to mind...things I should have asked her. Stories about her and her life that I should have taken the time to hear. It was too late now. And that was a regret that I would carry around for the rest of my life.

I brushed the hair back from her face and said, “I love you, Aunt Susan. Thank you for everything.”

That was as close as I could bring myself to saying goodbye.

It stormed the day we buried Aunt Susan. Seattle weather at its finest: an ice-cold wind and angry, gray sky. Though by the time the service finished, the sun appeared, and the mountain was out. It was a Christmas miracle.

I had never carried a coffin before and hopefully would never have to again. But I decided to carry hers after all the years she’d carried me. My insides felt hollow and scraped clean. Like I’d lost too much too quickly.

But losing Aunt Susan certainly didn’t make me miss Aaron. It’s not like he would have been any help with the funeral. The idiot probably would have raised an eyebrow at my black pantsuit and asked me if I really thought wearing my hair in a ponytail was suitable for the occasion. All of the little ways in which he used to undermine me seemed so obvious now. Love could make you such a fool. Aunt Susan had been right about that.

We had the wake at a neighborhood bar near her house. She’d played Scrabble there every Monday night with a group for years, and they had a small room for private functions. A selection of photos I’d chosen sat on a table in the corner. Aunt Susan as a baby. Playing at the beach as a child. The bad perm and organza extravaganza from her ’80s prom...

“Hey,” said Cleo, bumping her shoulder against mine. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

I took a sip of beer and glanced around the room.

Some of Aunt Susan’s friends sat around a table with lit candles in the center. They appeared to be quietly praying or chanting. My aunt had been active in many local groups, including a pagan group. It was good that there was room for everyone and their beliefs. People told all sorts of stories about her. Ones that made me laugh and cry. Funerals were so weird. It was odd to stand around chatting and drinking to commemorate the sudden absence of linchpins in our lives. But what else could we do?

The medical examiner had confirmed she died of a stroke. That it would have been fast and pain-free. Though, I don’t know how much of that was said to put me at ease.

An old song by Heart suddenly blasted out over the stereo. Miss Lillian, a friend of Susan’s, gave me a thumbs-up from the bar. She had obviously put a request in for some volume. People seemed to perk up, and the general air of sadness lifted just a little. Now it felt more like a party.

“Aunt Susan would approve,” said Cleo.

I nodded. “She loved a good get-together. This is much more her taste.”

My brother fussed with the knot of his tie and gave me a brief smile. We were not particularly close. Like our father, Andrew was a workaholic and didn’t leave much time for family and friends. The last time I saw him was when mom and her new husband had been in town a few months back.

“I have to get going,” he said. “But we should make time soon to talk.”

“What about?”

“The inheritance,” he said. “When are we seeing her lawyer?”

“I saw her lawyer yesterday.”

He narrowed his gaze on me. “Susie, why wasn’t I told about this?”

“Because it didn’t concern you?”

“What?” He recoiled. “Why would our aunt’s estate not concern me?”

“She didn’t leave you anything, Andrew. You weren’t mentioned. I’m sorry.” I tried to be kind. But I doubt it came out that way. The entitlement in his voice was setting me on edge. “I’m surprised you thought you would be. You were never close to her. When Dad used to make us go to her house, you always took off to a friend’s place instead.”

“She was still my aunt.”

“When was the last time you even saw her?”

“That’s beside the point.”

Cleo shook her head and said nothing. A whole lot of it.

“She left you everything? The house too?” he asked, his voice rising to a shout.

It kind of stunned me, to be honest. Which was stupid. Andrew reminded me of our father for all sorts of reasons. When Dad didn’t get his way, he was more than happy to get loud. A classic bully maneuver. The kicker was what Aunt Susan had said about my dating proclivities, how I went after men with similar asshole traits. Ouch and gross. As soon as we were done here, I was going to sit myself down and have a serious discussion with me about changing my ways. Stat.

“You’re selling the house and giving me half, of course,” he insisted. “Aren’t you?”

“Are you seriously yelling at me about money at a fucking funeral?”

“Susie—”

“This is why you’re here today? To get your hands on her house?” I let my head fall back and stared at the ceiling. Wherever Aunt Susan was, if she could hear this, she would have been furious. “Today is about celebrating our aunt’s life. Hearing stories about her and taking a moment to be thankful that we knew her. That she was a part of our lives.”

“Dad said the estate should be evenly split between us.”

“I don’t care.”

“Mom thought it would be best too.”

“I repeat, I don’t care. Our parents can think whatever nonsense they like. And throwing a temper tantrum will not get you what you want here.”

His face turned ruddy with anger. “She was my aunt too. It’s only fair.”

“You thought she was a flake. You had no immediate use for her, so you deemed her worthless.”

“Susie—”

“I am talking,” I interrupted in a loud voice. “And it’s so sad. It really is. You missed out, Andrew. Because she was great. Wise and funny and just so wonderful to be around. She had so much love to give, and she cared about us. She really did. When Mom and Dad were too busy, she was the one who made time for me. If you had just given her a chance, taken a moment to get to know her, then you would know what a loss it is to no longer have her here with us. But all today means to you is a chance to try and get your hands on something that isn’t yours and that you don’t deserve.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Get out. Now.”

“Susie—”

“If you had any idea how sick and tired I am of entitled men disapproving of me and getting all up in my face with their self-righteous bullshit...”

“This isn’t finished.” His chin jerked up, and he gazed down at me. Like he could glare me into submission. Then he marched his idiotic ass out the door.

At which point my shoulders slumped, and I hung my head.

“Well,” said Miss Lillian, her abundance of silver bangles clinking together with each move she made. “I feel like we need to sage the place after that.”

“How about we do shots instead?” suggested Cleo.

Miss Lillian waggled her brows. “Not that I should be telling you, but Susan was a fiend for tequila back in the day.”

I blew out a breath. “Now, that sounds good. Let’s do it.”

“I can’t believe Aunt Susan got arrested for frolicking naked in a city park and never told me.” I grinned and swung my purse over my shoulder. All of the tequila, corn chips, and salsa made for a warm buzz in my belly. A melancholy feeling had replaced the pain of grief. For now, at least. “What a legend she was. I’m glad I got to hear about that.”

“Sounds like your aunt and Miss Lillian got up to all sorts in college.”

“Isn’t it nice how they stayed close all these years?”

Cleo bumped my shoulder with her own again. It was her version of a hug. I hardly stumbled at all. I guess I wasn’t nearly as drunk as first thought. But Cleo laughed at me just the same.

It had been kind of the bar to let us hang out in the function room drinking and telling stories past the designated couple of hours we paid for. My first-ever time playing Drunk Scrabble. I think Aunt Susan would have approved. Stories had been told, and songs had been sung. While a few tears were shed along the way, it had been, on the whole, more about celebrating her life than commiserating over her loss. There hadn’t been a lot of people. But the folk who had been in attendance were fun and kind and full of love for my aunt. You couldn’t ask for more.

“I think she would have liked it,” said Cleo as we were getting ready to leave.

I buttoned up my black woolen coat as we headed for the door. It was almost eight o’clock, and the main part of the bar was crowded with patrons. An old Soundgarden song played over the speakers, and many sang along. My eye caught a familiar face down at the end of the bar. Lars was hard to miss, all tall and blond. No sign of Aaron, thank goodness. It had already been a day without adding him to it. Though, of course he would have left for London already. Jane sat on a stool laughing at something. Lars smiled down at her. He looked besotted. Totally engrossed in her. And the man had a nice smile. The big dude was masculine-pretty. What really hit me, however, was the way they were interacting. How into each other they were. Just happy to be in each other’s company. That’s what I wanted. And if I couldn’t have that, then I was better off alone.

“What are we looking at?” asked Cleo.

“A couple of Aaron’s friends are at the end of the bar.”

She licked her lips. Probably still dealing with the remnants of salt from all of the lip-sip-sucking we had been doing. “The big dude? He’s handsome. Do you want to go over and say hello?”

“No.” I shook my head. “We always got along okay, but...let’s go.”

“Susie,” called a familiar voice. And there was Lars coming after me with his big-ass stride. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I said. This was not awkward at all.

“I’ll just be over here.” Cleo wandered off to stare at the jukebox and give us a moment’s privacy. As much privacy as you could have in the middle of a crowded bar.

And his face—he looked so sincere. “How have you been?”

“Fine. You?”

“Good.”

I just nodded.

“It’s good to see you,” he said. “You look...yeah...great.”

Seriously awkward as awkward could be. Jane was giving me a finger wave, and I smiled back at her. The people you lost after a breakup was a lot. These two I had definitely liked. Jane was fun, and Lars was...well, he was Lars.

“Thanks,” I said. “You two look like you’re on a date. I better let you get back to it.”

“Right,” he said and stood there and stared at me. “Guess I’ll see you around, Susie.”

“Sure. See you around, Lars.”

I hooked my arm through Cleo’s, and we made our way through the crowd to the front door. Outside the sky was clear, the stars shining brightly. A whole universe of them sparkled above our heads. The air was crisp and cold. Holiday lights filled the bar’s front windows.

“What did the big guy have to say?” asked Cleo.

“Not much. He’s Aaron’s best friend. What could he say?”

“True.”

“Christmas is going to suck without her,” I said, out of nowhere.

“You’re coming with me to my mother’s place this year. It’s already been decided,” said Cleo. “She said you’re in charge of the wine.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Chosen family is a good thing. I’m so lucky to have you.”

She just smiled.

A woman wearing reindeer antlers walked past arm in arm with a man. They looked happy. Before she left, Miss Lillian had told us we had a responsibility to go out and be in love with the world. To live our lives to the best of our abilities, because Aunt Susan no longer had the opportunity to do so. And honest to God, I was going to keep trying. Starting with no more men. At least for a while. I needed time to deal with recent events. To figure out myself and why the relationships I chose to be in kept combusting. To show myself some love and understanding. All of which would hopefully lead to me making better choices. A girl could only hope. But dealing with Aunt Susan’s house and all of the work it needed would keep me busy for a while. When I thought about the sheer amount of stuff to be dealt with... Oof. There’d be no time for worrying about men and such nonsense for a while. Not a bad thing.

“Do you think you’ll get another roommate after I move out?” I asked. “Not that it’ll be for a while yet. The house is going to take some time to get sorted.”

Cleo frowned. “I don’t know.”

“I’m going to miss not having you to talk to all the time.”

“I’m going to miss borrowing your shoes.”

I nodded. “I do have great shoes.”

“You won’t be so far away. We’ll still see each other all the time.” She smiled. “Feels like life is shaking things up. As if it’s time for some changes.”

“It does feel like that, doesn’t it?”

“Look,” said Cleo, pointing at the sky. “It’s a falling star. Make a wish.”

We both stared at the beauty of the meteor falling through space. Then I asked, “Do you think it’s a sign of better days ahead?”

She shrugged. “It could definitely be that.”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “Let’s go home.”

Acknowledgments

With thanks to my editor, Susan Swinwood, for her endless enthusiasm for this story, and my agent, Amy Tannenbaum, for never giving up. Thank you to all the romance readers out there and especially the reviewers who give so much time and passion to the genre. Also thank you to Sali Benbow-Powers, everyone in my Facebook fan group, Jenn and everyone at Social Butterfly PR, Mish Lewis, everyone at the Jane Rotrosen Agency, Lori Francis, and last but not least, my family for their love, support, and sense of humor.

Kylie’s Playlist

“Rebel Girl” by Bikini Kill

“On the Sunny Side of the Street” by Ernestine Anderson & George Shearing

“Like Me Better” by Parisalexa

“Seasons” by Chris Cornell

“Crimson Wave” by Tacocat

“Something’s Gotta Give” by Bing Crosby

“May This Be Love” by Jimi Hendrix

“Crooked Teeth” by Death Cab for Cutie

“About a Girl” by Nirvana

“You Don’t Know Me” by Ray Charles

“Crazy on You” by Heart

“Open the Door” by Grace Love

“Yellow Ledbetter” by Pearl Jam

“The Story” by Brandi Carlile

ISBN-13: 9780369735836

Beginning of the End

Copyright © 2023 by Kylie Scott

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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