Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
HAYES
I was mad.
No, scratch that. I was furious.
The kind of fury that coiled low in your stomach and crawled up your spine, spreading like wildfire until it was all-consuming. I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles ached. My car whipped through the city streets. I wasn’t heading anywhere in particular. I just needed to move, to burn off this restless energy before it ate me alive. I was seriously considering driving to the airport and buying a ticket to anywhere but here.
I knew running wasn’t the solution, but I wanted to get away from the pain. I wanted to outrun the hurt she caused. I shouldn’t be this bothered. It wasn’t like we were in a long, committed relationship. We weren’t together for years. We hadn’t talked about even being in an actual relationship. We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend.
So why did I feel like such shit?
Why did I feel like she ripped my heart out?
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.
I wasn’t good at letting go of control. Hell, I wasn’t good at not getting my way. But this—this felt like an exposed nerve surrounded by flames, raw and unbearable.
And the worst of it?
I was mad at Dixie.
I knew I shouldn’t be. She was doing what she thought was right by her sister. I respected that, even admired it. But damn it, if the roles were reversed—if my brother had asked me to walk away from the woman I loved—I’d have told him to kick rocks.
Because that was what this was. Love.
It hit me in the Maldives, somewhere between the endless sunshine and the way she laughed when the ocean spray caught her by surprise. I’d fallen hard, and now, just as I was about to close my fingers around forever, everything had blown up in my face.
I pounded the steering wheel again, cursing under my breath, images of Dixie’s tear-streaked face flashing through my mind. It wasn’t just the goodbye that stung—it was the totality of everything we could have had. I missed the laughter that filled the quiet spaces when we were just sitting around. She’d be scrolling on her phone and start laughing over a three-second gorilla video or a meme. I was going to miss the silent understanding we could share with a single glance. Most of all, I was going to miss the nights spent talking until the world seemed right again.
How do you walk away from that? How do you pack it neatly into a box and store it in the attic of your memories?
I couldn’t. Not yet. Not while every cell in my body screamed to turn around, to drive back and beg her to reconsider, to tell her sister to get over it. Francine was fucking crazy if she thought we were ever going to be a thing. We went out a few times. Her sister was acting like a spoiled brat in my opinion. She had no claim to me. I never gave her any reason to believe she could claim me.
But I respected her too much to say any of that. If she believed breaking up was what needed to be done, then—at least for her—it was probably the right call. Part of me hoped she would see the error of her ways. That she would see she should choose her own happiness. I didn’t remember all that much about Francine, or Frankie as Dixie called her, but she did strike me as someone who wanted the world. She’d been a social climber. Not like in a bad way, but I knew she was attracted to me for who I was. She was nice enough, but something about her made me leery. Like she was always calculating the next move. Perhaps that was why it stuck in my craw, the idea that Dixie would sacrifice what we had on her sister’s behalf.
I let out a breath, trying to calm myself. But it didn’t last.
I clenched my jaw and pressed down harder on the gas. I didn’t have anywhere in particular I was going.
Eventually, my aimless driving brought me to familiar territory. My father’s estate loomed ahead. The long driveway gave me plenty of time to change my mind, but I didn’t want to. My dad and I had a decent relationship. He had raised all of us boys and knew the ins and outs of love and heartache. The house loomed ahead with several lights on. The landscape lights were all lit up as well. Kathy had insisted on a cozy, welcoming space for the family to visit at any time. I had to admit she’d done a damn good job.
I pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. For a moment, I just sat there, staring at the house. Part of me wanted to turn back, to deal with this mess on my own like I always did. But before I could overthink it, the front door opened, and my father stepped onto the porch.
“Hayes?” he called out, squinting into the darkness. “That you?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, climbing out of the car. “It’s me. Did I wake you up?”
He chuckled. “I’m not that old. I can stay up past eight o’clock.”
I walked closer. He was smiling, but as soon as I stepped into the light from the doorway, his smile faded. He could always read me like a book, and tonight, I was an open one. He seemed to understand this was not a casual visit.
“Come on in,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Kathy just made some coffee cake. You hungry?”
I shook my head. “Not really.”
He studied me for a moment, then nodded toward his study. “Cigar and a drink?”
“Sounds perfect.”
I followed him inside, grateful for the open-arm welcome. I was glad I wasn’t interrupting them. I knew I wasn’t the only one of their many kids who showed up at their door in the middle of one crisis or another.
The study smelled like leather and cigars, a comforting mix that reminded me of childhood. My father poured us each a generous glass of scotch, then handed me a cigar.
“Alright,” he said, settling into his chair. “What’s got you all twisted up?”
I didn’t answer right away. I took a long sip of my drink, letting the burn settle before I spoke.
“It’s Dixie,” I admitted finally, my voice gruff.
He raised an eyebrow. “Figured as much. Things not going well?”
I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s an understatement. It’s over.”
His expression didn’t change, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Apparently, I dated Dixie’s younger sister a while back,” I said.
Dad winced. “You didn’t remember?”
“Dixie calls her Frankie,” I said. “I knew her as Francine. And it wasn’t a big deal.”
He winced again. “Son, I have told you boys a hundred times it’s always a big deal. Women are different. They remember everything.”
I nodded, unsure how to argue against truth. “I had no idea Frankie felt that way.”
“Why did she let her sister get involved with you in the first place?” he asked. “That seems like a problem between the sisters.”
“Francine didn’t know Dixie and I were seeing each other. Dixie referred to me as Paul.”
My father chuckled. “Sounds like Dixie might have been aware of her sister.”
“Yeah, I guess so. When she showed her sister pictures of us in the Maldives, her sister figured it out.”
He nodded. “I see.”
“Dixie’s loyalty to her sister is something I admire. I can’t even blame her for making the choice she did, even though it feels like a knife to the gut.”
“Love’s a tricky beast,” Dad murmured. “But you have to ask yourself—is this it? Is this how you want your story with her to end?”
“I don’t beg for anything or anyone,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “And I respect a woman’s word. She made her choice.”
“Then you fight for her, Hayes,” he said sternly. “You go back there and fight for what you want. Love isn’t about smooth sailing. It’s about weathering storms together. If she’s worth it, you’ll find a way to make it work.”
“Honestly, that would be the easy choice,” I said. “But while that makes me feel better, it would be terrible for her. She would be torn between me and her sister. I can’t do that to her.”
My father nodded thoughtfully, taking a slow drag of his cigar.
“You’re a good man, Hayes,” he said after a moment.
I huffed out a humorless laugh. “Feels like being a good man doesn’t get me very far right now.”
“Because you’re not used to losing,” he said. “But let me tell you something, son. A woman like Dixie may only come around once in your lifetime. You can give up, or you can try one more time.”
I looked away, swirling the scotch in my glass. “It’s not that simple.”
“Nothing worth having ever is,” he said with a small smile.
I shook my head, frustrated. “I wish I had it in me to be an ass like Isaac for once,” I muttered, half-joking.
That got a laugh out of him.
“Humor will get you through the worst of it,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “That, and your family. We’re always here for you, Hayes. Don’t forget that.”
I nodded, but I didn’t say anything.
“For what it’s worth,” he added with a soft smile. “I’m gutted too. After seeing you two together in the Maldives, I was certain I was looking at your future. Kathy and I both like Dixie. She’s a good woman with a big heart. And she got along with everyone so well.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly, finishing my drink and holding out my glass for a refill.
He poured another round. Kathy came in with a tray filled with slices of coffee cake.
“I’ll just drop these here for you,” she said.
“Stay,” I said. “You may as well know Dixie and I are no longer a thing.”
Kathy set the tray down and perched on the arm of my father’s chair, her expression a mix of concern and surprise. “Oh no, what happened?”
I briefly recounted the tangled web involving Dixie and her sister Frankie, omitting the finer points but highlighting the main conflict. Kathy listened intently, her brows furrowed in thought.
“That’s really tough, Hayes,” she sympathized once I’d finished. “But it sounds like you’re trying to do the right thing by stepping back.”
“Trying to,” I agreed, taking a bite of coffee cake despite not feeling hungry. The sweetness was comforting in a small way. Kathy was a hell of a cook.
My father eyed me over his glass. “Sometimes stepping back isn’t the only right thing, son. Sometimes you need to step up in a different way.”
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I know you mean fight for her, Dad. But where does that leave Frankie? I can’t be responsible for breaking their bond.”
“You think you’re protecting them by walking away, but maybe what they need is someone who insists on making things right, even if it’s hard,” Dad said.
I chewed on his words along with another bite of coffee cake. The idea of fighting for Dixie was tempting, an itch I desperately wanted to scratch, but the fear of inflicting more pain on her was holding me back.
“Hayes, dear, sometimes all you can do is offer your sincerity and let them decide,” Kathy said. “Why don’t you talk to Frankie? Clear the air. Transparency might not fix everything, but it’s a start. Maybe there’s a way through this that doesn’t involve giving up on Dixie or hurting her sister.”
“I thought about that, but I don’t know if that would work.” I finished my second glass of scotch.
“I’ll get the guestroom made up,” Kathy said.
“Thanks.”