32. Sean
THIRTY-TWO
SEAN
It took me a second to realize what had actually happened. I was so consumed by Lizzie, so caught up in the feel of her in my arms, that the sound of her brother’s voice didn’t actually register until she stiffened and pulled away from me.
The feeling of that moment was familiar, but it still caught me by surprise. It was that gut-plunging, rug-pulled-out-from-under-me moment of pure horror that I’d felt when I found out my ex-wife had been unfaithful.
It was the pit in my stomach when I heard my father stumble through the door when I thought this Christmas, finally, would be different.
It was the sound of Christmas music in the hospital lobby moments after my mother had passed.
I turned to see Aaron staring at us with a look of shock and disgust on his face. My arms were still wrapped around his sister and my mind was still on the kiss. The kiss that had made me feel like I was flying. The kiss that made me feel whole for the first time in years.
The kiss I wasn’t supposed to be having with the one woman who was meant to be off-limits.
“Let me say that again,” Aaron said, face going red. “What the fuck?”
“Aaron,” Lizzie answered, voice strangled and breathless.
I cleared my throat and turned to face him. “I?—”
“Don’t tell me this isn’t what it looks like,” Aaron snarled at me, and I deserved it. I deserved his anger. I’d taken his friendship and thrown it back in his face.
If I’d been less of a coward, I would’ve talked to him about this. I would’ve admitted that I was interested in his sister. I would’ve protected the one precious relationship that had lasted through my whole life. The only person who had been there beside me when everything fell apart. The best man at my wedding. My best fucking friend.
Instead, I let these heady, addictive feelings get away from me. I hurt him, and I realized that gut punch of a feeling wasn’t something I was receiving this time—it was something I was causing him .
Aaron stared at me, wide-eyed and red-faced, waiting for me to answer.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Lizzie turned toward me; I could feel her gaze on the side of my face. I couldn’t look at her. My head was too full of noise. Panic raced through me and burned every nerve ending, making it hard to focus on anything except the jittering in my legs and the pounding of my heart.
“My sister ?”
“It’s not—Aaron, I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”
In my peripheral vision, I saw Lizzie flinch. Her gaze left my face, dropping to the ground in front of us.
“A mistake.” Aaron scoffed.
“I…” I couldn’t take my eyes off him, off the anger and shock blazing in his expression. “Yes. It just happened. I can explain.”
I was flailing, and my words were making Lizzie flinch and crouch away from me, which made the panic inside me rear up taller and stronger and scarier.
Then Aaron’s eyes moved to Lizzie, and his lips curled. “So, what, you used the whole matchmaking thing as an excuse to—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “I don’t even want to say it.”
“It’s my fault,” I said.
“You weren’t the only one participating in that little display,” Aaron shot back. “I didn’t see Lizzie fighting you off.”
“We’re both adults,” Lizzie finally said. “What’s your problem?”
My mind was torn between them. Between the friendship that had gotten me through every significant moment of my life—my father’s antics and his final departure from our lives, my mother’s illness and death, my wedding, the birth of my son, the breakdown of my marriage—and the woman who made me feel like I was alive again.
How could I choose between them? How could I have been so stupid to think I could have both?
“My problem?” Aaron shot back. “My problem is that my best friend just moved back to town and you wasted no time in spreading your legs for him. My best friend, Lizzie!”
Lizzie’s face went white, and the panic inside me snapped. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“Like what .” Aaron’s vitriol turned back to me.
“What’s going on here?” Mrs. B’s voice called out. A moment later, she appeared behind Aaron, frowning in confusion. “I heard shouting.”
“What’s going on is that Lizzie and Sean were making out,” Aaron said, flinging his arm toward us.
Mrs. B’s eyes went wide. She glanced at me, then at her daughter. All she said was, “Lizzie!”
Lizzie flinched again and shook her head. “I have to go.”
“Oh, you’re going to run away?” Aaron said as she hurried past him. “Like you ran away from your marriage? No wonder Isaac left you.”
The sob that left Lizzie’s throat was the only catalyst I needed. I took two steps and was on Aaron, but he saw me coming. I tried to punch him, but he caught my arm and got me off-balance. What followed was the most pathetic few minutes of red-faced grappling I’d ever been involved in. Suddenly we were fifteen again, tackling each other to the ground, pulling each other’s shirts over our heads, getting body punches in between snarled curses.
Mrs. B yelled at us to stop, and pretty soon the space filled with enough people that I was hauled off Aaron’s body by Kyle. Aaron was pulled to his feet and held back by his father and uncle. I touched the side of my jaw and found I was bleeding.
There was shouting. Kids poked their heads around corners, and as the adrenaline faded, shame began to gurgle its way to the surface. I stood in front of the mistletoe where a kiss had nearly undone me, surrounded by the only family I had left, and I knew that I’d made a mess out of everything.
And I’d done it for a woman that had meant very little to me only a couple of months ago.
As the ringing in my ears subsided, I realized Kyle was telling me to get myself together. He was asking me what the hell happened, demanding explanations. I shook him off. “I’m leaving,” I mumbled.
“Go,” Aaron snarled across the room. “Unless there’s someone else here you’d like to fuck? Another family member of mine you have your eye on?”
“Aaron Thomas Butler,” Mrs. B snapped. “You cut it out right now. It’s Christmas!”
I let out a bitter scoff. It was Christmas, all right. It wouldn’t be Christmas without an alcohol-fueled fight. Without chaos and shouting and disaster. What was a holiday without a few tears?
“Sean,” she said, turning to me. “Hold on. You don’t have to leave.”
“I do,” I said. I pushed past a few bodies in the hallway and stumbled to the front door. Stabbing my feet into my shoes, I grabbed my jacket and flung open the door.
“Merry Christ—” My aunt Dorothy snapped her mouth shut and frowned at me from where she’d stopped short on the stoop. “Good Lord, Sean, what happened to you?”
I mumbled my apologies and near-sprinted past her, Margaret, and their partners. When I got behind the wheel of my truck, I was shaking so hard I couldn’t get the key in the ignition. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw people gathering on the front porch, heard my aunts’ questions, saw Mrs. B put a hand to her forehead as she glanced my way.
Finally, the truck rumbled to life. I stepped on the gas pedal and got the hell out of there.
If there was one silver lining in the disaster I’d just made of that event—of my life—it was that my son wasn’t there to see it. That thought was cold comfort as I left the Butlers’ house in my rearview mirror. I’d chased after a woman I knew was off-limits, and I’d ruined one of the most important relationships of my life.
Just like I knew I would.