Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
brEE
The moment Keeley and I stepped inside from our morning walk, she made a beeline for her water bowl, and I made a beeline for the coffeepot. Courtesy of the wonders of modern technology, a timer ensured it was ready as soon as we got home. I filled my favorite mug and added a generous splash of hazelnut creamer, inhaling the rich aroma as I soaked up the warmth between my palms. But the ritual didn’t have its usual settling effect.
After two days with Peyton, the house felt too big, too empty.
It had felt the same after Willa moved out, which was how I’d ended up with Keeley only a few weeks later. My pup was great company, but she didn’t quite make up for the loss of another human in the space. Those years with Willa as my roommate had spoiled me. I’d gotten used to having someone to share coffee with, to bounce ideas off of, to just exist in the same space without pressure to fill the quiet.
Maybe I ought to look for another roommate. The cottage had plenty of space, and the extra income would help cover some upgrades I’d been considering, like a pergola to cover the back patio.
Keeley’s tail thumped against her bed, drawing my attention. She gave me that soulful look that always made me feel like she could read my thoughts.
“Don’t give me that look. This has nothing to do with getting attached to Ford’s kid.” I took a long sip of coffee. “I just miss having a roommate.”
But I was fond of Peyton. So was Pop. He’d had a grand time telling her pirate stories. He’d never admit it to me, but that man really wanted to be a great-grandpa. Lord knew, it wasn’t likely to ever happen through me. If he could have a bit of that relationship with Peyton, I didn’t see the harm in it. The two of them enjoyed each other. And the more people she had in her corner, the better off she’d be.
But it also meant that Ford was inevitably becoming part of my life again. I wasn’t sure what to do with that. There was a part of me that wanted to just fall back into the way things used to be. Once upon a time, he’d been comfort and safety. And there was no erasing the years of history we shared.
But there was no erasing the pain, either. And it was there, each and every time I saw him.
A soft knock sounded on the kitchen door. Keeley bounded over, wagging, and I glanced up to see the very object of my thoughts standing on the other side, as if I’d summoned him.
What the hell was he doing here?
I crossed over to open the door. “Is Peyton okay?”
Ford blinked. “What? Yeah. I dropped her off at school a couple of hours ago.”
“Did she forget something?” I could’ve sworn I checked the guest room for her stuff.
“No. Can I come in?”
Still worried, I backed up to let him inside.
The house that had felt so big just minutes ago immediately shrank with him in my kitchen. Somehow he just took up so much space, beyond the physical.
“Did you hear something more from the FBI about all that mess? Or find out what the deal was with Casey’s job?”
Ford’s lips twitched, his green eyes sparking with faint amusement. “No. If you’ll let me talk, I’ll tell you why I’m here.”
Right. I had to actually shut up to get any answers. Still, my nerves spilled out of my mouth again. “You want coffee?”
Wait. Why was I offering him coffee? I didn’t actually want him to stay any longer than necessary.
“Coffee would be great.”
I filled another mug on auto pilot, waiting for him to speak. But Ford only watched me move around my kitchen, apparently not bothered by the silence.
I handed him the coffee.
“Thanks. Can we sit?”
Oh God. Was this really a sitting conversation?
“Easy. This isn’t some kind of bad news. You tense up exactly like Peyton.”
“We’ve both got plenty of reason to.” But I sat at the kitchen table.
Ford dragged out a chair opposite me and dropped into it. “She reminds me so much of you.”
“She’s not as prickly as me. More years with someone who seems like she was a really good mom.”
He studied his coffee. “I think she was. And I’m so torn about that because if Casey had lived, I don’t know if she’d ever have told me about Peyton. I could’ve missed out on my kid’s entire life without ever even knowing she existed.”
I could see how much that idea of that killed him. “Both of those things can be true. She could have been a great mom and still made a mistake in not telling you. No sense dwelling on could have. You have her now, and I know you’ll do everything in your power to make your time together count.”
His chin dipped. “It’s made me rethink so many things. Really evaluate my priorities and what matters.”
Something in his tone had me going stiff again, my fingers tightening on my mug. “Kids will do that.”
When he lifted his gaze to mine, my stomach twisted into a cleat hitch knot.
“There are things I need to say to you. That I’ve needed to say for years. I know you haven’t been ready to listen. And I get that. I hurt you. In ways that should have been so fucking obvious to me before I did it. When I left for the Navy, I broke the very first promise I ever made to you—that you wouldn’t be alone anymore. I had my reasons for going, but none of them matter. I made the decision without taking you into account, and I ruined the best friendship I ever had. I know it’s too little, too late, but I am sorry. I’ve always been sorry. And I just… I needed you to know that going forward.”
The bloom of pain started in my chest and spread outward, overtaking every inch of my body as I closed my eyes and soaked in the apology I hadn’t allowed him to make for a decade. He knew. He actually knew and understood why I was upset. Why what he’d done had cut me to the quick. I shouldn’t be surprised. No one had ever known me better than Ford. And it mattered that he recognized it. That he owned it. So few people understood that was an essential component of a genuine apology.
Opening my eyes again, I found his gaze steady on my face, waiting, pleading. He’d said his piece. Now it was time to say mine.
I sipped at my now cold coffee to wet the throat that had gone dry. “I appreciate the apology and the acknowledgment. But it’s not that simple. That last summer wasn’t the first time you hurt me, Ford. There were little slices to my heart for years before that. You were my best friend, but I never felt like yours. It was always your brothers who came first, and I so often felt like I got the scraps of your attention. I took it because I loved you, and I figured anything was better than nothing. Then the tavern was torched, and for the first time ever, you truly put me first. You were there for me, supporting me, making me believe everything was going to be okay, even though the bottom had totally fallen out of my world. I got through it because you were there, and I thought, no matter what happened, I’d keep getting through it because I had you.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw, but he didn’t interrupt me as I paused for another sip of coffee. “You were my first. Did you know that?”
He jolted, obviously shocked. “I?—”
But I didn’t want to hear it, so I pressed on. “You changed things between us that night, and I thought—finally, finally you saw me. Saw us. What we could be together. I was the idiot who was building castles in the sand in the days after, thinking we were on the same page. And then you announced that you and all the other Wayward Sons had enlisted in the Navy. That you were leaving in a matter of weeks. That the decision had been made before you ever took me to bed. And that was my line, Ford. Because you never discussed it with me. Never even brought up the fact that you were considering it. And it was just more proof that I wasn’t a priority for you.”
His face twisted as if I’d stabbed him directly in the gut. “Bree?—”
I held up a hand to stay whatever protest he might have made. “No. I’ve spent literally my whole life not being a priority for people. I won’t settle for less.”
“Nor should you. But Bree, I?—”
“Stop, Ford. I know we’re both older. And maybe things have changed for you, but even if they have, I can’t be a priority for you now, either, because you have Peyton. That’s exactly where your priority should be. She needs you. All of you. So I appreciate the apology, but it doesn’t undo the damage.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his face twisting with unfettered grief. Maybe that should’ve moved me, but I had my own pain to grapple with.
“You should go.”
“Bree—”
My control of my emotions had been stretched razor thin, and I didn’t want him to be here when I snapped. “If you ever loved me at all, please, just go.” I forced the words out past the lump in my throat.
Reluctance in every movement, Ford pushed back from the table and strode to the door. A moment later, it shut quietly behind him.
Keeley padded over, leaning against my leg and whining, and that show of support broke me. All the stress and strain and grief I’d managed to hold back for years poured out of me in a torrent of tears.