CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Breck
D ropping Wes and Joss at the airport was harder than I expected it to be. It was nice to have them here, separate them from the feelings I have about the place we all call home for a bit. In the three weeks after Talia left, Willow and I spent nearly every free minute with Wes and Joss. Those three weeks were brutal. Me wrapping up the sale of a business that felt like an extension of who I was. Willow trying to finish school when the stability in her life was crumbling. Both of us unsure of what our future looked like.
We even stayed in Wes’s vacant apartment since he’d already moved in with Joss. His lease wasn’t up until after we left for Tahoe, so it was perfect timing, and I didn’t want to spend more time than necessary in our house.
My house.
Thank goodness for that. I bought it with the money I inherited from my parents. It was the first time I touched those funds. The day I found out Talia was pregnant was the day I contacted a real estate agent. I didn’t want to raise a kid in an apartment in the city. I wanted my kid to have space to grow and roam. We never got around to putting Talia on the deed, so I don’t expect her to fight me for it. Not that she put up any kind of fight for us. She walked away, brushing the dust off her feet when she went.
I shake my head and look to Rory sitting shotgun, staring out her window. I offered to take Wes and Joss to the airport by myself, but neither Willow nor Rory wanted to stay behind. It was a crowded and loud drive there, but it’s been anything but since we got back on the road. It’s late for Willow, especially after last night. Her sitter let her stay up to watch the fireworks from the east coast on TV, but she was happily asleep by the time I got in.
Rory was the only quiet one on the drive to the airport, allowing the more boisterous voices (Wes and Willow) to overtake the conversation. She’s still quiet. Because of earlier? Because she’s tired? Or is it because of last night? I stifle a yawn and run my hand up over my hair and down to my neck. When I glance into the back seat, Willow is out like a light.
Rory looks back at her too. “Someone was tired,” she says quietly.
“Yeah. I can relate. I imagine you can too.” I smirk at her. The light of a streetlamp illuminates her face and the soft blush across her cheeks.
“Yeah. I’m tired.” Her tone implies more than a “I could pass out right here” exhaustion.
I don’t say anything, giving her space to talk it out if she wants.
“Emotionally, mentally, relationally… all of it.” She leans her head against the headrest but doesn’t close her eyes, keeping them solidly on the dark road in front of us. I’m reminded of our ride from the airport to Tahoe last month and how natural it felt to be around her then. It still feels that way.
“Yeah, I thought so. I’m sorry about your parents.”
She blows out a breath, lips vibrating over the exhalation. “All I’ve ever wanted was for them to be proud of me.” Her shoulders slump. “But I don’t think they’ve been impressed with me a day of my life.”
“Not for a lack of trying on your part I’d bet,” I say under my breath.
She stiffens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I just meant that—” I stop at a red light and get a good look at her face. Her lips are in a firm line. “I can imagine you working your ass off to please them because that’s who you are. With the way you jumped in when Wes called and asked you to help us get settled… I can imagine.”
Her eyes don’t hold mine, instead looking back out the window next to her. I glance to where Willow rests in her seat, glad she’s still asleep. This is as good a time as any to have this conversation and I’d rather not have it with her listening in.
“You were amazing when we got here. You made it easy for us to find our footing. You were great with Willow. Hell, you were great with me.” I clear my throat because it’s hard to admit that out loud. “Can I explain everything?”
“Okay,” she says, not sounding like herself.
The light turns green and I nod, forced to focus on the road. I take a deep breath and start. “I felt pretty normal that first week here, and something about that didn’t sit right. I didn’t think I should feel normal, not after everything. I was afraid I was growing to rely on your help, on your companionship for both Willow and myself. I’m supposed to be figuring out this single dad thing while I’m here, and I didn’t feel like I was much of one when you were around.”
I chance a glance at her and—shit. She looks stunned, so I rush to cover my blunder. “Not that I thought… I didn’t think of you as like—” I clear my throat. “I just mean that I always had your help if I needed it. You shopped for Willow. You brought us dinner. You helped her learn to snowboard and not hate it, unlike when she went with me.
“Then Wes called to tell us his news and I was reminded that you were there, helping me, because he asked you to. I couldn’t be sure if you were spending your free time with me and Willow because you wanted to, or because he asked. Then I started to think of all the things you’d likely skipped out on to make time for us. You have this whole life here. You’re young, you have a job, you have friends. I felt guilty for taking you away from all of that.
“So, when I told you I had it all under control and you stopped calling, I assumed it was true. That I had done the right thing.”
“Breck,” she says quietly, but I need to say everything, get it all out so it doesn’t weigh me—or her—down.
“I know now that I was being stupid and was thinking too hard. Do you ever do that? Overthink every little thing? It feels like that’s all I do these days.”
She chuckles. “I overthink everything , so you’re in good company.”
“I think I made a real mess of things.”
Her laughter dies on her lips and she looks down at her lap. I pull into the parking spot in front of her house and put the Jeep in park. I want to force her to look at me, but just this once I’ll let her hide.
“I’m sorry, Rory. It wasn’t about you. I know that sounds cliché, but it really wasn’t. If it helps, Willow and I both really missed having you around.”
It’s a cop-out to include Willow. It’s not untrue, but I really missed her. It bothered me on one level, but I also wished I could have that friendship back as soon as she walked out the door.
“I didn’t do it for Wes, you know?” she says, finally looking at me. “I did it for you. For Willow. For me too. Like, yeah, I work too hard to please the people around me, but I’ve never had to do that with Wes. He’s the only person in the world who’s ever been proud of me for just being me. I never have to work for his love. I would do anything for him because I love him. But with you and Willow…” She bites her lip between her teeth and shrugs.
“With me and Willow what?”
“I guess I thought we were friends. It felt like we were, or that we could be, and I wanted that. Wes can’t be here and it kills him. I’d guess it’s killing you too. But with what you said—I thought maybe I tried too hard to be him for you and ended up being the little sister who was too much. A burden, a nuisance.”
Rory’s eyes moved to her lap halfway through her monologue and I could kick myself for making her feel like she was less than.
“Rory, you’re none of those things. You feeling that way was never my intention. We are friends, okay?”
“We are,” she says, her head lifting. Then she clears her throat and smiles. “Do you, um, have a habit of making out with your friends in alleyways? If so, I might’ve just learned something I didn’t need to know about my brother.” She laughs, and I appreciate her breaking the tension.
“No, that isn’t something I make a habit of. No need to put images of that in my brain either, thank you very much. I’ve had to see him make out with Joss enough to last me a lifetime, yet that’s how long I’ll have to live with them.”
“So last night then? Just a lapse of judgment, we blame it on the tequila?” she asks, leaning just slightly closer.
“I can’t blame my actions in the hallway this morning on tequila…”
“No, I guess you can’t. Not unless your orange juice was different to mine. So, what then? Why’d you kiss me?”
“Because I wanted to. Because for once my mind was clear, and that felt good. Because it felt like you wanted me to—”
She interrupts me with “I did… want you to.” She blushes but holds my gaze.
“Because it felt good to be wanted,” I continue, and that admission hurts. Over these past few weeks, it’s become painfully obvious that Talia hadn’t wanted me, wanted us, for quite some time. It’s left me questioning everything.
Her eyes widen slightly, and just when I think she’s going to swing the door open and disappear up her porch steps, she sinks into her seat.
“Why did you let me kiss you?” I ask, emboldened. “I’ll feel like a real asshole if it actually was just the tequila.”
“It wasn’t that. Though it helped.” She bites her bottom lip again and I force myself to keep my hand on the steering wheel so I don’t pull it free. “I told you I’m tired. Tired of never measuring up. Tired of doing everything for everyone else and still not being enough. With you last night, I was doing something just for me, because I wanted to, and it felt really good.”
“Really good, aye?” I quip, and she pushes my shoulder.
“You know what I mean,” she says, and instead of letting her pull her hand away, I grab it and wrap it between mine on the center console.
“I do. You weren’t trying to impress anyone. You were just being you.”
“Yeah.” She breathes out through her nose, resting her head against the headrest again. Her shoulders are relaxed, and she’s drawing a small circle with her thumb that’s making me crazy.
“I wasn’t lying when I said what we do in our personal lives isn’t Wes’s business. It’s not anyone’s business. But I don’t want for us to end up in a place where Wes is stuck in the middle of something that would hurt our friendship. I’m—” I break off, unsure of how to continue.
“You’re not interested in anything serious,” she says, succinct and to the point.
“No, I’m not. God, right now I feel miles away from being able to handle something serious. Plus, we’re only here for a few more weeks.”
“What if I said I just want to feel like I did last night? Enjoy choosing something for myself for once. I know you’re only here until the end of January. I’m not expecting anything from you, but I’m not going to lie—I’d really like for you to kiss me again.”
“Yeah?” I lift an eyebrow.
“Yeah. So, what do you say? You can choose to be a little irresponsible, to not overthink it. And I can choose to want you while you’re here just because I can.”
I lean an inch closer. “Okay.”
Her face is lit only by the glow of the lamplight as snow cascades around the car.
One more inch.
In the space of that inch, Willow stirs behind us and I startle back, hitting my head on the window.
“Ow, shit,” I mutter.
From the back seat, I hear a quiet voice. “Swear jar for you, Daddy.”
Then she’s back to sleep and I’m feeling completely and totally untethered. Rory’s in the seat next to me, her shoulders heaving with silent laughter, and I wonder if what we just agreed to is a terrible mistake or the perfect escape.