28 | caveat
I don't know why those words come out of my mouth the way that they do or when they do, but I can't take them back now.
Dante and Flint look at me with wide eyes, mouths agape, like I've just confessed to the most heinous of crimes—which, sometimes, it's what this feels like, with how secretive about the truth Rhett and I have decided to be about it.
Though I understand why we do it and what we have to protect and what is at stake, things have changed significantly from the moment when we first agreed to jump into this fake relationship.
My feelings might not have changed, not necessarily, and I suspect they've always been there, buried deep within my heart, hidden under all the hurt he has put me through. It has been one hell of a journey learning how to stop blaming myself for the way things originally ended and, now that I have finally come to terms with the fact that I've always owed myself some grace and that we were young and stupid at the time, those feelings have resurfaced—with a vengeance, too.
I told him once, and I'd tell him now if he was standing in front of me. Knowingly or not, I've been searching for him everywhere, in every relationship I've been in since then, and maybe I've unconsciously sabotaged all of them because they simply weren't with him. No one will ever match Rhett Price, and he has said it so himself—he doesn't lose.
He hasn't lost me, either, and we both know it.
The difference is that now I'm allowing myself to be won, to be wanted, to be valued by someone who genuinely wants to take care of this silly little heart of mine—all of its layers and complexities, even on days when I don't feel like I deserve it.
However, there's all that doubt Cole has ever so lovingly decided to plant and water in my brain, knowing exactly the effect it would have on me, and I'm struggling to weed it out. I don't know what exactly we're protecting with this secrecy now. I don't know the secret buried underneath or whether I'm headed off towards dangerous territory, which makes my anxiety grow by the day.
I can't help but feel like there's something ironically cruel about finally finding the right person, the one that truly understands and knows you, the one who sees through your bravado, the one who stays after your darkest nights and basks in your sunlight, and then have it all be just for show.
It's all for a senior project for college or for a professional ice hockey career that requires a pristine reputation of being able to commit to something to ensure you won't do something risky and stupid and proceed to get dropped by sponsors. Your feelings are real, but the context in which you're experiencing them isn't, and you have all that love trapped inside of you with no one to share it with.
There comes a time when you start to wonder whether the fake relationship is fake and the real feelings are being kept a secret because they're not real or because one of the parties involved isn't in it as deeply as you are.
Call it being a hopeless romantic, call it naivety, but I love love, and it's something I want to share with the world. It doesn't mean every single detail has to be shared with the world—and it doesn't; part of the beauty of being in a loving relationship is having secret moments no one else gets to witness, moments you'll hold dear to your heart—but I want to be able to tell people this is the guy I love without feeling as though I'm committing a crime or a mortal sin.
I want us to have something that's just ours, free of any external input and mindless chatter coming from people who think they know us better than we know ourselves and each other, but being forced to keep it a secret is weighing down on me and suffocating me. The constant fear of it being destroyed (by what? Or whom? And why are we in danger? I don't know) if it's discovered by everyone we're vilifying is taking a toll on me, and I can't ignore it any longer.
It makes me think he sees this as a chore, as something he has to put up with for the sake of his reputation and his goals; even with his family's pressure, surely they'd understand. They like me, right? They know I want nothing but the best for him, right?
Right?
"Now that's an update I wasn't expecting to hear at all," Dante eventually says, shattering the awkward silence that had befallen the kitchen. If anything, I'm glad they're finding out before our parents do and that they're learning it straight from the source instead of coming across something by accident, stealing all my control over the narrative. "I did think it was suspicious to see so much Rhett Price content on your Instagram accounts, but figured you were just trying to patch things up. You were friends for years before it all went to shit."
"Before he made it all go to shit," Flint corrects, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, then firmly crosses his arms. There's something about his demeanor that screams aura of superiority, like he thinks he's above me for never having fallen back into the arms of a former partner like I have, and I'm not a fan. It feels like I'm being ridiculed. "I'm sure you don't need us to tell you to be careful after what happened last time, but you need to be careful around that guy. There's never not a catch."
I huff, puffing out my chest like an angry bird, despite knowing they can see right through my bravado. "I'm glad you think so highly of me that you assume I have no voice in this relationship. Just because you think everyone else is beneath you and can't see anyone as an equal, it doesn't mean relationships suck for literally every other person on the planet."
Flint rolls his eyes. "I've seen this before, Brie. You fall for him too hard, too fast, and he dips right before catching you. He never sticks around long enough to pick up your pieces, and he certainly doesn't lift a finger to help glue them back together. You're the one making it sound like it's such a terrible thing to be back together with him, to be in love with him . . ." He makes a vague gesture to dismiss all of it, a quick flick of the wrist, like this is just high school drama instead of my personal life. "We know how this ends. You know how this ends."
Dante clears his throat. "What I think Flint is trying to say and failing miserably at having some tact about"—cue another eye roll from Flint—"is that we don't want to see you get hurt again, especially after what happened with that douchebag Cole and after what happened between you and Rhett when you first dated. You only have your perspective on the entire situation to fall back on, but we have ours, too, and we remember all of it. We want you to be happy and follow your heart, but we also want you to be smart about it and not rush into things just for the sake of nostalgia." He shoots Flint a pointed glare. "Although I think some of us shouldn't be so emotionally stunted when voicing those concerns."
Flint raises his hands by his shoulders, the tell-tale sign of someone who's more than ready to play the eternal victim in every situation. "Like you're not thinking the same thing. When hasn't Rhett thought of no one but himself?"
I know he has a point.
The version of Rhett they know is unlike the one I know, so they have no reason to trust him or believe he has changed, which means their vision of him will be tainted by what he and I went through years ago until he shows them evidence of those changes. To them, he's still irresponsible, unable to commit to anything serious, and a flight risk who thrives on leaving a trail of broken hearts everywhere he goes.
However, it doesn't change the fact that their lack of faith in me is actively slicing through my heart like deli meat. It doesn't change the fact that they're telling me they believe I have no autonomy, no ability to think for myself and make my own decisions, or, even worse—that I cannot be in a relationship with the guy I'm in love with without there being some sort of a caveat. It always has to be about what he can gain from it, without any consideration for my terribly real feelings ever being included in the equation.
It's like they don't think I'm worthy of being loved back just because of one bad experience with someone who is no longer as immature as they used to be—and I'm not as naive, either.
I'm all too experienced with heartbreak now, after all.
Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I rush to wipe them away before they can start streaming down my cheeks. Years ago, I vowed I would never shed another tear over Rhett Price, yet here I am, and it's not even thanks to something he has done to me directly. He's been nothing but kind and patient, yet all I'm getting from my brothers is pity and worry that borders on condescension. They don't think I'm strong enough, but they don't know the whole story.
They don't know I'm not foolish little Brooke anymore. I am a wildfire.
"When Cole dumped me, he also decided he no longer wanted to work on my senior project with me," I explain, before the situation can escalate. I don't want to betray Rhett like this, but I need to protect myself, put myself first for once, and they need to understand the full context. "I couldn't submit a new idea, so I had to either find someone new to partner up with me or lose an entire year of my life while everyone else graduates and moves on. I don't want Mom and Dad to spend unnecessary money on yet another year at an extremely expensive school, so I went with the former.
"Rhett just so happened to be there after the whole thing happened. So, yes, maybe it was convenient. Maybe he needed me to help him fix his reputation, look good for sponsors, and all that, and he can do that if he proves he can stay committed to something long-term and fix something everyone thought he broke beyond repair." I raise a hand before I lose my nerve, just as they open their mouths to protest. "So, no, the relationship isn't technically real. Yes, we both have something to gain from it by having everyone convinced it is; I get to graduate in time and finish my senior project, and he has a higher chance at being drafted and landing brand deals, not to mention he'll redeem himself in his family's eyes. The odds aren't skewed to benefit him. We both decided we wanted to do this, and it's mutually beneficial. It has also given us a chance to work on our issues for genuine reasons, not just to keep up the lie."
I hope.
Flint sheepishly rubs the nape of his neck. "Brie—"
"You don't get to tell me about heartbreak. You might have seen me go through it, but it wasn't you going through it. You don't know how devastated I was, and I don't need your pity. I don't need either of you to tell me the only reason why he'd ever be with me is because there's something to gain from it." I gulp, swallowing a pathetic sob. "We're doing so, so much better, and I've chosen to give him a second chance. I decided to go all in, trust that his heart is in the right place, and there have been plenty of opportunities for him to stab me in the back—none of which he has taken. He has changed, and I need you two to acknowledge that once he inevitably comes over for dinner and you're here."
Dante lets out a deep sigh, lacing his fingers on the back of his head. "And the second part? That you're in love with him? Is that . . . real?" I nod. I don't know how, why, or when I truly realized it, but I don't think those feelings ever went away. They've been dormant inside me, waiting patiently for the right time to hit me like a freight train. "What about him, though? Does he know all of this is real to you? Do you know whether he feels the same way?"
What about him is the right question to ask.
I want it so badly to be real for the two of us, to know he's my real partner in every sense of the word, and I want to believe Andy when he says Rhett looks at me like I'm magic.
I'd be lying if I said I don't see it in his eyes now, when I catch him looking at me when he thinks I haven't noticed a thing, a glint in those beautiful greens that's reserved for me, and then he smiles. It fills me with warmth, like the first kiss of sunshine in the morning. If I lean into my romantic side, if I let the whimsical tendencies of my mind run rampant, I can convince myself he knows my feelings for him are very much real and reciprocated.
Unfortunately, the crippling doubts are still there. I've never felt enough for anyone, sometimes not even for myself, and now, with the whole secrecy surrounding Magnolia, there's a chance he's looking for her in me the same way I've spent years looking for him in every guy I dated since then.
I have the strength of spirit, the presence of mind to know I'm likely overthinking everything thanks to being put on the spot and thanks to Cole's influence, joined by Magnolia's mysterious existence and impact on both Rhett and me. It doesn't stop me from acting like there's cotton candy inside my skull instead of a brain.
I make Dante and Flint promise they won't tell anyone the relationship isn't technically real. Emphasis on technically, as I'm not sure where Rhett and I currently stand. I make them promise to let me tell Mom and Dad about it instead of accidentally letting it slip during Thanksgiving dinner once they've had one too many glasses of wine.
They make me promise to talk to Rhett, to get some confirmation about our relationship status and feelings for each other. They make me promise to stop hiding things and to remember to be kind to myself, even if it means endangering the perfectly poised image of who I am when I'm in a relationship in the eyes of other people.
I don't have the heart to tell them I'm a coward and that talking about Magnolia and my feelings is the last thing I want to do, so I don't. I'm a goddamn liar, breaking promises immediately after making them, but I know they're right.
So, I decide to make a promise to myself this time.
I will come clean to Rhett after the holidays. I will be honest about my feelings.
Even if it breaks my heart. Even if it breaks us.