Chapter 12
Twelve
M y hands gripped the fabric of my camera strap as I sat ramrod straight in the passenger seat of Rhodes’s truck, refusing to speak.
Embarrassment simmered beneath my skin. I couldn’t believe how I’d reacted to seeing Penny and Aspen. My emotions spiraled the moment they walked in considering it was the first time I’d seen them in weeks.
The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. Was I wrong for pulling back? Maybe it was petty, but why should I be the one to reach out? My feelings were hurt, and I hadn’t done anything wrong.
At the bar, Rhodes told me I should talk to them. But in my head, that would only lead to awkward conversations I wasn’t ready for. It felt easier to let the distance grow, to avoid the pain altogether.
I stared out the passenger window, the passing scenery doing little to distract me. Rhodes cleared his throat, breaking the silence. I glanced at him, catching his gaze as it flickered in my direction.
“Yes?” I asked, turning slowly to face him.
One hand rested on the steering wheel, the other on the center console. His profile caught my attention—the soft curve of his jaw, stubble dusting his tanned skin. The slight bump in his nose hinted at an old break, and his messy black hair curled at the nape of his neck. I found myself wondering what it would feel like to run my fingers through it.
“You don’t have to act like everything’s fine,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Especially not around me.”
His words hit a nerve. I raised my eyebrows slightly, his tone stirring something familiar. Holding it in does no good. A pang of déjà vu tightened my chest.
I locked my emotions away long ago. I hadn’t let anyone in—not fully. Not even the therapists who tried to help. But Rhodes? He felt different. Safe. Familiar.
“I know,” I confessed the words coming out in a hush. I squirmed in my seat, unable to bear the weight of my emotions. Uncomfortable that I’d not been able to keep myself in check.
But Rhodes noticed so that meant something.
There was a beat of silence before Rhodes spoke. “Did you want to talk about it?”
I did. I wanted so badly to let it out.
With a shaky exhale, I took a leap. I stood on a cliff, ready to take the emotional plunge. My mind screamed at me to let him in. I didn’t understand why, but the thought of sharing my feelings, of being vulnerable with the man sitting next to me didn’t scare me.
“It all just… sucks. I don’t know who I am anymore,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I look in the mirror and don’t recognize myself. Inside or out.”
The tears came fast, hot streaks laying paths down my cheeks. Once I started, I couldn’t stop.
“I feel like a burden. Nobody wants to be around me. I’m not the same person I was a few months ago, and it’s terrifying. I used to be strong, independent. Now I’m… I don’t even know. Everything lingers. I’m angry constantly. Emotionally unstable. I’m tired all the time. My ankles are swollen. I’ve gained so much weight. And the stretch marks?—”
“Enough.” Rhodes’ voice cut through my rambling, sharp but not unkind.
I blinked at him, startled by the change in his tone. He flicked on his blinker, changing lanes abruptly to pull onto the shoulder. The truck jolted to a halt, the engine idling as he threw it into park.
“What the hell, Rhodes?” I snapped, glaring at him.
He turned to face me, his expression a mix of frustration and determination. My anger flared, contorting my face into a scowl.
We were just outside of town, the traffic still steady as it whirled past us. I silently prayed no one would stop to check on us because my anger was pooling and sizzling just beneath the surface, ready to boil over. No one else needed to see me go toe to toe with a man nearly double my size. Right now, I’m pretty sure I’d win too.
“I’m not going to sit here and let you talk about yourself like that,” he said, his tone firm. “Anyone who can’t see how incredible you are is an idiot. You’re being hard on yourself, setting these expectations that you need to be what, perfect ? Everything I’m hearing you describe is normal. You’re growing a human being, Theo. There will be changes, you will feel out of control.”
I’d never seen Rhodes so rigid and stern before. It was a shock to my system, short-circuiting the emotions swirling inside me and replacing them with something quieter. Calmer.
“Rhodes…” I replied.
“You’re beautiful,” he continued, his voice softening. “You’re kind, funny, and so damn strong. I need you to realize that you’re doing enough. You are enough. You need to give yourself grace.”
My throat tightened. What was there to say? I nodded, unable to form words.
“Say it,” he pressed. “I need to hear you say it, Honey.”
“I know,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.
Rhodes sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Those thoughts you’re having? They’re trying to protect you, in a twisted way. But they’re not helping. I know what it’s like to look in the mirror and not see yourself. To feel like you’re disappearing.” The expression on his face fell softer. The red tone on his skin began to dissolve.
His voice cracked slightly, and I saw something shift in his eyes—a flicker of vulnerability. My hand moved on its own, reaching out to touch his face. The stubble on his cheek was rough against my palm, grounding us both.
“Rhodes,” I said softly, searching his gaze.
For a moment, we stayed like that, connected in a way words couldn’t explain. Then he cleared his throat and leaned back, breaking the spell.
“I get it, Theo,” he said, his eyes on the road again. “I know how it feels. But you’re stronger than you think. And you’re not alone.”
His words settled in my chest, a comforting weight. Maybe he was right. Maybe I didn’t have to carry all of this by myself.
“Tell me,” I demanded. “Tell me what it’s like. Does it ever get better?”
I didn’t know what I was looking for in my question. Did what get better? The feeling of loneliness. The uncertainty. The feeling of not wanting to be a failure. The feeling that life as you knew it was slipping away.
I didn’t know what it was like to be a mother, what if I fucked it all up? What if I failed my daughter? I was adding another identity, another role I’d be stepping into. Friend. Daughter. Worker. Mother .
Rhodes nodded. “I have my moments where the thoughts come back, but I’m able to shove it into a box and tuck it deep into the corner of my mind.”
“I’m sorry you went through that,” I spoke softly. I assumed he was referring to what happened between him and Jess.
“I used to feel sorry for myself but I’m glad it happened when it did. If she was willing to leave me after all those years together, what’s to say she wouldn’t have done the same after marriage and a family.”
“You planned a family and future with her too,” I don’t know why that’s what I chose to respond with. It was more so in sadness thinking about what he’d lost.
“I haven’t thought much about what my future looks like now. When Jess left, she took a big part of me with her.” Rhodes looked at me, really looked at me. The rumbling of the idling engine filled the silence before he spoke again. “That created a lot of self-doubt, and I didn’t handle it well. I felt like I couldn’t turn to my friends because they didn’t get it. Instead, I turned to some not-so-healthy ways to numb the pain.”
Sitting here with him, listening to his side of the story, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were meant to find each other at this exact moment. Like some unseen force had nudged Rhodes Dunn into my life right when I needed him most—when I needed to be seen, to be understood.
“How did you change?”
“Therapy. Opening up and allowing myself to feel things. Shoving it away made it worse.”
I used to open up, but my person was no longer here. Nearly sixteen years later, I was still living with the impact of their sudden departure.
“You should also talk to Aspen and Penny. I wish I had opened up more to Boone or Logan when I needed someone.” Rhodes added. “But know, you don’t need to hide from me.”
“Thank you, Rhodes,” I said, looking down and playing with my hands. “I’ll try not to hide, on purpose.”
I looked up at him, and he met me with a knowing smirk. His hand found my knee, a gentle squeeze that sent warmth through me. It wasn’t just from his touch, but from the unspoken understanding between us.
“Let’s get you home,” he said, putting the truck in drive.
“I do have a question.”
“What’s up, Honey?” Rhodes cooed back.
Each time he called me that, the little butterflies living in my belly did a twirl and created a flutter. I often wondered if the baby felt it too.
“Why not Mac?”
Rhodes turned to me, cocking his head to the side in a question.
“You said before you wished you’d turn to Boone or Logan. Why not Mac too?”
Rhodes let out a deep belly laugh, one that rumbled against my heart. “Mac wouldn’t know what to say or do. He’d probably laugh uncomfortably or offer me a cigarette. I wouldn’t want to put him in that awkward position.”
I laughed, too; I guess I didn’t see Mac as the comforting type.
As the truck rolled back onto the road, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe.