The End of a Good Thing - for Clay
Three days into their four day vacation and Annie to admit that she was feeling more relaxed then she had in two months. Even the weekend they'd spent at Manderley before didn't compare to the last few days they'd spent together.
If she included the Sunday that they'd spent riding with Porter Webb, Annie would admit that she'd been a little stressed for a few hours. It had been a little nerve-wracking meeting Clay's mother. The woman had been as regal as she'd imagined her to be, and yet, she'd made Annie feel completely at home after the first few minutes. She'd been questioning, but not pushy and when the inevitable question about Annie's feelings regarding Clay had come, Annie had replied the best she knew how: with only a partial truth. Still, the woman hadn't pressed her for further answers and Annie's typical stammering had probably said more than her words had. All the practice in the world hadn't completely prepared her for that one question.
She was going to have to talk to him about leaving her alone for those five minutes.
The rest of the vacation had been spent enjoying the sun, avoiding the water, and watching how Clay didn't quite stare at her in her bikini. She'd finished her novel while he'd been quiet one afternoon, just as she'd told him he'd be. It was a companionable silence, though, and for the first time in a long time, Annie hadn't felt the need to fill the quiet with nervous chatter.
Back at Manderley, as their last full evening set in, she stood on the back deck watching the sunset. The view was stunning and the sky was a dazzling shade of pink and purple. Annie stood against the wood railing, ready for dinner, breathing in the ocean air.
If she included the Sunday that they'd spent riding with Porter Webb, Annie would admit that she'd been a little stressed for a few hours. It had been a little nerve-wracking meeting Clay's mother. The woman had been as regal as she'd imagined her to be, and yet, she'd made Annie feel completely at home after the first few minutes. She'd been questioning, but not pushy and when the inevitable question about Annie's feelings regarding Clay had come, Annie had replied the best she knew how: with only a partial truth. Still, the woman hadn't pressed her for further answers and Annie's typical stammering had probably said more than her words had. All the practice in the world hadn't completely prepared her for that one question.
She was going to have to talk to him about leaving her alone for those five minutes.
The rest of the vacation had been spent enjoying the sun, avoiding the water, and watching how Clay didn't quite stare at her in her bikini. She'd finished her novel while he'd been quiet one afternoon, just as she'd told him he'd be. It was a companionable silence, though, and for the first time in a long time, Annie hadn't felt the need to fill the quiet with nervous chatter.
Back at Manderley, as their last full evening set in, she stood on the back deck watching the sunset. The view was stunning and the sky was a dazzling shade of pink and purple. Annie stood against the wood railing, ready for dinner, breathing in the ocean air.