CHAPTER 12
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O ver the last fifteen years, Mallory had a host of people she could lean on.
Evan.
Emily.
Sophie.
Her parents.
Beckett.
But none of them could help her now. She was angry at her brother for a situation that wasn’t his fault; a situation that could have been straightened up with a little honesty. No, Ev. Please don’t take Nana’s ring, the last token of my girlhood fantasy.
She couldn’t reach out to her sisters, who were busy with their own lives and families. Not to mention, they would scold her for not being upfront with their brother, who let’s face it, needed to be spoon-fed details he didn’t want to hear. Emily was already disappointed in her, and she knew Sophie would follow suit. Those two were peas in a pod when it came to casting judgments on their little sister.
And she certainly couldn’t go to Beckett, the source of her heartbreak and unease. Were they making a mistake by sneaking around? Probably . Was she a total lunatic to stay at the farm and nurse him back to health? Certainly . Would she get her heart broken again? Most definitely.
After retrieving her car from work—how did anyone ever survive before rideshare apps?—she spent the day fumbling around. She avoided the diner, instead eating dry cereal on the couch while Fernando slept in her lap. She mindlessly rubbed his belly as she binged Colin Firth’s Pride and Prejudice for what felt like the trillionth time. Maybe she should just move overseas and find her own Darcy. But then she’d have to pack and attempt to get Fernando in his crate, and that seemed like a lot of effort to be disappointed by men with accents.
When the streaming service asked, Are you still there? , Mallory jumped into action. She couldn’t handle another moment in her apartment with her fat cat and cliched moping. She couldn’t turn to family for support, but she certainly had a friend who would help her.
So as the sun hung low in the sky, she eased her car down a road she’d only traveled a few times. When she arrived at her destination, she hoped her friend would be there, because Mallory was about to lose her cool and needed a shoulder to cry on.
Checking her phone before she got out of the car, Mallory found missed calls from Beckett, a text from Evan with a meme of a cat stuck in a tree, and a photo of Tyson in the siblings’ group chat. It also showed the time was too late to show up at a friend’s house uninvited, yet here she was.
Mallory pulled herself from the car, walking on shaking feet to the door. She took a deep breath and rang the bell, hoping she wasn’t about to get scolded for being irrational. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long for a reply.
A bleary-eyed James Gibson answered the door, clad in his signature paint-splattered T-shirt and jeans. “Mallory?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with a worried expression. “Is everything okay?”
Mallory let out a cackle that sounded far too demented to her own ears. “Um, not really?” she asked, even though it was clearly a statement of fact. She was having a nervous breakdown. Sweat pooled under her arms, and a surge of heat flamed her cheeks, despite the cool evening temperatures.
Before James could finish opening the door, Alice was there. “Who’s at the door?” she asked as her footfalls grew nearer.
Mallory exhaled, her knees wobbled. “Alice?” she asked, voice cracking.
“Holy crap, Mallory!” Alice exclaimed as she pushed past her boyfriend and threw her arms around her friend. “What’s going on?”
James dutifully opened the door wider and ushered both women inside. “Take her to the living room. I’ll get some drinks.” Whether it was from nerves or concern, Mallory was grateful for his quick thinking and privacy.
By the time she and Alice were settled on the large couch, James appeared with two glasses of water, a bottle of Riesling, and a box of Oreos. “I have no idea what’s going on, but I thought this would cover any situation in Buckeye Falls.” He turned to leave and added over his shoulder, “if I need to call any of my connections in New York to bury a body, just let me know.”
“Thanks, babe,” Alice said, a smile tugging on her lips.
“You’re a saint, James,” Mallory added as she wiped a snot bubble from her nose. Yeah, this was truly not her greatest moment. Despite always being a fan of the artist, Mallory saw her bestie’s boyfriend in a whole new light. He was truly a god among men.
Alice wasted no time pulling the cork from the wine and filling both glasses to the brim. “Before you say anything, I need to know. Are you physically hurt? I don’t want to ply you with booze if you’re about to have a medical issue.”
“I might die of a heart attack by the time I’m done telling you this story, but the wine can only help speed up the process.”
Her friend pressed her wine into her waiting hand, hiding her signature smirk behind her own glass. “Then get talking. And before you worry, there’s a guest room with clean sheets with your name on it. James is on deadline, so he’ll be in the studio all night. It’s just us girls.”
Mallory slugged back a third of her wine, then covered her mouth with a belch. “Sorry about that,” she muttered. “And I’m sorry to just randomly show up here at nine thirty.”
Alice waved her off and sipped from her glass. “Screw the hour, Mal. I’m worried about you. What the hell is going on?”
Rubbing the back of her neck, she willed herself to calm down long enough to form coherent sentences. Mallory felt like she was living in a carnival ride, her emotions rolling back and forth without her consent. “Remember when you came to the hospital last year? When you thought James was cheating on you?”
Alice nodded slowly, reaching for her glass to take another sip. “Yeah. Not my finest hour.”
Mallory frantically gestured to her current state and snorted. “Yeah, I’m not here to judge you on that.” Motioning toward the rear of the house where James’s studio was, she added, “And clearly it all worked out and you had no reason to worry.”
“I suspect you’re telling me this so I go easy on you?”
Shoulders slumping, Mallory sighed. “Yes, please. I’m about to dump two decades of drama in your lap, and I need your help.”
Alice leaned over to grab the pack of Oreos. After ripping the wrapper with her teeth, she pulled out a handful of cookies and handed them to Mallory. “Start talking,” she ordered.
For nearly half an hour, Mallory let it all loose. Her and Beckett’s past as friends, her ebbing and flowing feelings toward the man, his hesitations to tell Evan the truth, and her fear that she was about to risk it all for a man who wasn’t going to follow through on his promises. Letting out all her frustrations felt cathartic and freeing, like taking off your bra after a long day at work.
“Good Lord,” Alice gasped when Mallory finally came up for air. “Um, that’s a lot.”
Mallory drained the last of her glass and waved it in the air. “Yep, I’m aware. Is there any more liquid courage in this house?” She was officially the worst houseguest, showing up uninvited and then drinking a nice, and likely expensive, bottle of wine.
“I’ll get your liquid courage,” Alice countered, “but first I need you to drink this.” She handed a water to Mallory before sliding the Oreos closer. “And I’m sure mixing wine with cookies is only making the situation worse, but go whole hog.”
“You’re the best.”
Alice winked. “It’s what besties do.” For a moment, the pair sat in silence while Mallory chugged her water and Alice surveyed her friend. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”
Mallory held up her hands, curling them toward her in invitation. “Give me your worst.”
Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, Alice blinked a few times. “I’m just wondering, why haven’t you mentioned Beckett before? We’ve been friends for over a year, and he’s never come up once.”
“Yeah, I’m going to need that wine now.” Mallory deadpanned, grabbing a pillow and covering her face.
“You get a two-minute reprieve while I find more wine, but I’m serious. I want answers.”
“That’s fair.” Mallory’s reply was muffled under her pillow mask.
When Alice returned, she handed Mallory a fresh glass of wine and said, “I think you mentioned something when I came to the hospital last year. About your heart being broken? I’m guessing that was Beckett.”
“It’s always been him, Alice. Every guy I date is always compared to Beckett. What his smile is like, is he kind to animals. Does he have glasses that never seem to stay on straight?” Mallory tossed the pillow across the living room, a sad thud the only reply. “I probably shouldn’t have done that. I feel like everything in this house is worth more than my monthly rent payment.”
Alice scoffed. “I got that at Frick and Frack with you over the holidays. How drunk are you?”
Mallory smiled briefly, remembering their frequent trips to the local consignment shop. “Oh, yeah. I guess it looks different when it’s in James Gibson’s house.”
“Here we go again. You knew he was a pseudo celebrity when we started dating.”
Mallory held up her finger to stop her friend. “Fake dating, I remember how that all went down.”
“People in glass houses,” Alice warned, but her smile betrayed her words. “I’m pretty sure keeping a secret like Beckett Fox from me is pretty comparable.”
“You’re right, and I’m an asshole.” Mallory took a long pull from her glass, savoring the sweet punch of the wine. “And thank you for offering your guest room. I’m already half in the bag.”
Alice muttered under her breath, “I’m pretty sure you’re at the bottom of the bag, honey.”
“Blah, I hate men.”
“I know, most of them suck. But my question for you is, do you think Beckett is one of the baddies?”
Mallory wracked her brain for the answer to that very astute question. “I don’t think he is, or at least that he doesn’t mean to be.”
“You mentioned something about his family,” Alice offered, refilling both their glasses. “Do you think it really is as simple as he doesn’t want to risk losing you and Evan if things go south?”
“Evan will always side with Beckett. They’ve been best friends forever.”
Alice chortled. “Yeah, I don’t think your brother will turn his back on his favorite sister. You can spout whatever nonsense you want, but he’s protective of you, Mal. As a sister with a protective brother, I promise Evan will always be on Team Mallory.”
Mallory groaned and groped around for another pillow to hide under. “I don’t know,” she mumbled into the soft fabric.
Tapping her shoulder, Alice said, “I wouldn’t be so sure. I think you do know, and that’s why you’re here freaking out.”
“Damn you, Alice Snyder. Stop making sense.”
“Pfft, come on. You know I’m usually the drama queen. Let me have my moment.”
Mallory took a second to think, to attempt to put herself in Beckett’s shoes. She trusted that he felt the same way about her that she did about him, but why wasn’t that enough? They’d been tiptoeing around each other and their feelings since they were in puberty. She was tired of hiding, tired of lying, and most importantly, tired of not living the life she wanted.
“Why aren’t I enough?” she asked, tears pooling in her blue eyes. She thought she’d cried herself out between binging Oreos, yet here she was bawling like a leaky ship.
Alice draped her arm over her shoulder, pulling her to her side. “Oh honey, you are more than enough. Maybe it’s time to really talk to Beckett. You gave me the same advice last year, and I’d say it turned out great.”
Mallory wiped at her face and elbowed her friend. “This is a really bad time to rub your hot, successful boyfriend in my face, you know.”
Alice shrugged. “Oh, come on. Maybe just a little?”
Mallory chuckled, unable to hold her frown. “Fine, you can be happy. And you know I am happy for you, right?”
“Yes, but we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to get to the bottom of your Beckett conundrum.”
“Can’t I just live here and hide away from my life for a while?”
Alice cocked her head, pretending to mull it over. “Sure. I’ll just tell James to start charging you rent when the wine rack is empty.”
“Deal.”
Rubbing Mallory’s back, Alice nibbled on her lip.
“Uh oh, I know that look. You’re about to drop some wisdom on me.”
“Maybe, but I had a thought.”
“Hit me with it already. I need answers, and you’re the only woman for the job.”
Alice huffed. “What a scary thought.”
“Stop selling yourself short, Ms. Future-Best-Selling-Author.” She loved her friend dearly, but Mallory knew Alice could get down on herself. She was funny, accomplished, and brilliant, but that didn’t stop her anxiety from showing.
“Pfft.” Alice waved off her friend’s kindness. “Hear me out, what if Beckett is afraid of failing you? It could be that he’s so stuck in his head that he can’t see the forest for the trees. He obviously broke your heart before, and it’s possible he doesn’t want to do it again.”
“Then why kiss me? Why make promises he doesn’t intend to keep?”
Alice shrugged, a very unhelpful movement that Mallory hated. “I think he does intend to keep his promise, but he knows he might lose his best friend in the process. After losing the last of his family, maybe the poor man wants to protect his heart?”
“But I don’t think Evan would cut Beckett off! If we were happy, then he would be happy.”
Alice raised an eyebrow, daring her friend to read her mind. “Um, if that’s the case, why haven’t you said anything to him? From where I’m sitting, you might be just as bad as Beckett with lying to your brother.”
“Okay, now I need you to be a little nicer.” Mallory grimaced, knowing full well her friend was right. She had no leg to stand on when it came to giving Evan the truth. Both his best friend and sister were lying to him, and it wasn’t right. It wasn’t how they were—the Lawsons were better than that. And frankly, so was Beckett.
“I’m not saying things with Anthony have always been smooth sailing,” Alice started with a sigh, “but I know that over the last two years, we’ve gotten a lot closer, and that’s because we’re being honest.” She snorted and added, “Still snarky as hell, but honest.”
“I need to tell Evan, don’t I?”
Alice took her hand and squeezed it. “I think you both need to tell him. But first, you need to confirm with Beckett what you’re going to tell him. If you guys are just having a little fun, then it’s probably not worth rocking the boat. But if you’re serious about each other, and it sounds like you are, then sit down with him and spell it out. I’m sure you’ve been through more than this, and Evan will want to know.”
“Dammit, you’re right.”
“It’s surprising, I know.”
James emerged from the studio, a streak of blue paint on his cheek. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m heading to bed.” He ducked down to kiss Alice on the forehead before turning to Mallory. “I’m sure Alice already told you, but the guest room is yours. I’ll see you girls in the morning.”
Alice swatted his butt as he walked past and shouted, “I love you.”
“Love you more,” he returned over his shoulder.
“God, I want that,” Mallory sighed.
“Can’t have him,” Alice replied, poking her friend in the side until she giggled. “But you can have that with Beckett if you put yourself out there.”
“I’m tired of putting myself out there,” Mallory whined like a bratty child.
“Then you might have to get used to being single, my dear. I learned the hard way that nothing is worth keeping if you don’t fight for it.”
“I think you’re right, again.”
Alice pulled herself to her feet and stretched. “I know, now let’s get some sleep. Nothing you can do now except enjoy the impending hangover.”
That wasn’t entirely true, as Mallory lay awake for hours staring at the ceiling. Images of her past with Beckett sped through her mind at warp speed—the good, the bad, and the beautiful moments. When he kissed her at the farm house, she felt a piece of herself clink into place for the first time in years. Being with Beckett felt like being home, and she knew she had to fight for that if she wanted to move forward with him in her life.
It was all easier said than done, and Mallory knew they had to talk to Evan. Her brother meant the world to her, and she hated the notion that she was hurting him with her secrets. Yet it seemed like poor form to stress the groom out before his wedding, although the pang in her chest told her that might be inevitable. It was time to break the Beckett cycle, to decide if they were worth fighting for.
Mallory had her answer, and she could only hope Beckett had his.