Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Cordelia
It’s Sunday, and I have both a sweatshirt and my regular leather jacket laid out on the bed. The trusty leather jacket’s been with me for years, and I rarely wear anything else.
I trail my hands against Renthrow’s sweatshirt. Somehow, it feels right to wear something other than my jacket today.
Slipping the sweatshirt over my head, I throw on some lip gloss and head out the door.
To my surprise, there’s a man standing outside my apartment. I lurch back before recognizing that it’s Brennon. He’s wearing a white button-down shirt, vest, slacks, and brown loafers—looking like the stereotypical “finance bro.”
I used to be surrounded by exact replicas of him all over the city, yet seeing Brennon wear that outfit in a town as laid-back as Lucky Falls makes me want to throw him in a Henley and work boots.
“What are you doing here?” I slip into the hallway with him. “Shouldn’t you be at the stadium by now?”
“I’m not going to that stupid game,” Brennon says, rolling his eyes.
“Why not?”
“It’s not about me anyway. The team manager set it up to get his players back in line.”
I frown. Something about his tone rubs me the wrong way. “I heard Renthrow invited you.”
“Even more reason not to go. That guy hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” I argue, turning to lock my door with the key.
Brennon’s voice goes flat. “You two a thing now?”
“Huh?” I notice that he’s staring at Renthrow’s name on the sweatshirt.
Before I can defend myself, Brennon laughs, and there’s an edge of annoyance to it. “It’s a good thing I’m not going. You wouldn’t have been cheering for me anyway.”
“Renthrow and I are just friends.” I slip the key into my pocket.
“Look, Dee-Dee. It’s pretty dang obvious when a man is interested in a woman. The guy just can’t help himself. Trust me. He’s into you.”
“I told you. It’s not like that. We’re just—”
“Friends? Right, well, one of you is lying.” He checks his watch. “But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to say goodbye.”
My eyebrows climb. “Are you leaving already? What about your work with the team?”
“Your mom gave me a new assignment, and if I ace this, I get the promotion.”
“Congratulations, Brennon. That’s great.”
“Thanks.” He pauses and studies me like he wants to say something more.
But I don’t have time for a stare-down.
“Take care then.” I offer my hand for him to shake just as Brennon moves in for a hug.
He notices my outstretched hand and freezes. Sheepishly, he shakes my hand. I give him a firm shake, one that Mom would be proud of, and then I let him go.
Time to hurry to the stadium.
“Hey, Dee-Dee?”
I stop in my tracks.
Brennon pulls his lips into his mouth and glances away from me. “I, uh, I don’t know if you remember or if I should bring this up.”
“Then don’t.” I check my phone screen. The game’s probably already started, and I’m late.
“About that day you told me you had feelings for me…”
Surprise roots me in place.
“…I’m sorry for the way I reacted.”
Images of my younger self handing him that journal, a physical symbol of her entire heart, rolls out in my head. Funny enough, I don’t feel anything but amusement now. That memory used to keep me up at night and make me burn with embarrassment, hurt, and anger.
Now, it has no hold on me.
A smile blooms in an instant. Wow. It feels amazing to be free of that weight.
“It’s in the past, Brennon,” I say sincerely. “We’re different people now.”
“Still, it’s bothered me. I’ve always regretted how I acted.
At the time, I was in love with your sister.
” He licks his lips, and the eyes I know so well trail to the floor.
“It’s kind of stupid to admit now, but I didn’t want her getting any ideas that you and I were together.
I wanted to make it really clear that I wasn’t interested in you, and I think I overdid it. ”
I stare at the boy I’d been madly in love with. “I know.”
“You…you did?”
“I was always watching you, remember? And you were always watching Gwen.”
In a way, that made me want him more. If I could convince Brennon to love me instead of my sister, maybe it would prove that I was as valuable as Gwen. Maybe it would prove that I could beat her.
But of course, Brennon wouldn’t choose me over my poised, elegant, and outgoing sister.
He smiles regretfully. “I was devastated when she got married so young. I’d always pictured us together.”
“Life is funny that way.”
For example, I’d always pictured that one day, Brennon would open his eyes and see what was right in front of him.
There was even a time when I started dressing a little like Gwen in the hopes that he would take a longer look at me, simply because we looked alike.
I add in a pained voice, “You never know how the story will end.”
“Some stories end too early.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I still miss her.” He unleashes a sheepish smile and shakes his head. “I know it must be hard for you to understand.”
Instantly, my muscles tighten. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You handled it better than anyone.” His eyes are wide as if he can’t comprehend why I’m offended. “You didn’t even go to the funeral.”
I blink rapidly. “Is that what you think?”
“Am I wrong?” He gestures with his arms, getting more animated. “Even after the funeral, your mom took six months off, but you went right back to work, taking over the company. Everyone in the office said it was like nothing had happened.”
My fingers tremble, and I curl them into fists at my side. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“It’s just us here, Dee-Dee. I know where things stood between you and Gwen. I don’t blame you for being unaffected.”
I can’t breathe. Unaffected. Unaffected?
“My sister died, and you think I didn’t feel that?” I hiss.
“I’m not blaming you or anything.” Brennon puts a hand on my shoulder and pats me cautiously as if he’s expecting a wild, animal-like response from me.
“There’s no right way to grieve. You were always tougher than her.
It didn’t surprise me when you didn’t break down.
That’s just who you are, Dee-Dee. You’re the strong one. ”
My nostrils flare, and emotions prickle the back of my eyes. Those words have haunted me my entire life.
“Mom is flying to Gwen’s pageant, so she can’t come to your dirt-bike event. But that’s okay, right? You prefer being alone anyway.”
“Gwen’s got a commercial that Saturday, so we’re pulling our team from the Harley Davidson anniversary exhibit. Maybe we can do the exhibit next time.”
I remember the conversation Mom had with me when I wanted to study building bikes in college.
“Delia, building bikes isn’t suitable. You’re a Davenport. You need to learn to manage the company.”
“But why isn’t Gwen doing it?”
“Do you see how sensitive Gwen is? She can’t kill a mosquito, much less fire an employee. Gwen wasn’t built to take that kind of stress. But you’re tough.”
The tears are about to stream down my face, but I refuse to cry in front of Brennon. I’d rather chew glass.
With the last of my strength, I throw over my shoulder, “I’m late for the game. I need to go.”
“Let’s go together. I can drop you off on my way out of town,” Brennon says, walking after me.
“No!” I bark.
He stops abruptly.
“I’ll take my bike.” I know my voice is shaking like a hurricane, but it’s the best I can do.
At first, I fast-walk, and then I jog, and then I full-on run down the apartment stairs.
I’m the tough one.
So even if it feels like the world is crumbling, I can’t allow anyone to see.
Not even for a second.
The noise in my head roars louder and louder.
My heart feels like it’s being pulled at the seams.
I’m tough.
No one can know it hurts.
Pulling my helmet on, I get on my bike, point it away from town, and drive far, far away.