Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
NATE
The wait is over.
Tonight, no matter who interrupts, I’m telling Mackenzie the truth. Ethan sent me. I can’t keep this from her any longer.
My stomach rolls while I climb the stairs to her house and knock. She’ll understand.
She has to.
The door opens, but I’m met with a tear-streaked little face instead of Mackenzie’s warm smile.
Nick
My gut clenches. Something’s wrong.
“What’s up, buddy?” My voice is careful, even as my pulse hammers.
“Mom’s crying.”
Ice floods my veins. “What? Is she hurt?”
Nick shakes his head, lower lip trembling. Across the hall, Liam leans on his crutches outside Mackenzie’s bedroom, his expression twisted with worry.
“She inside?” I ask, already moving.
Liam nods. “But she won’t let us in.”
Dread pools in my stomach. She knows .
I bang on the door. “Mackenzie, are you okay?” I twist the knob, only to find it locked.
Silence.
Shit.
I pound harder. “Mackenzie, you’re scaring the kids.”
That does it. Footsteps shuffle across the floor, and the door swings open?—”
And then she slaps me. Hard.
I stumble back, more from shock than pain. Shit. I wasn’t expecting that.
Her arm lifts for another strike, but I catch her wrist.
“Apparently, I did something to you.”
Her green eyes blaze with fury. “You son of a bitch.”
“What did I—” My gaze drops. A single sheet of ecru linen paper lays on the floor.
No.
I don’t have to see the handwriting. I already know who wrote it.
“Let me explain.”
“Explain?” Her laugh is sharp and bitter. “I think my husband explained enough.”
Fuck! I forgot he told her. I was supposed to be long gone before she read that letter. Not standing around here like an idiot who fell in love with her.
“How could you?” she spits, voice shaking. “You looked me in the eye every day and lied to me.”
“There were so many times I tried to tell you.” I clamp my jaw tight before I say something regretful. This lie isn’t anyone else’s fault but my own. I take full responsibility. “Look, I was going to tell you tonight.”
“Don’t even try to justify it.” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, but her voice is steel. “You knew who I was this whole time. Is this some sick, twisted joke?”
“No. Of course not.” I rake a hand through my hair. I should’ve told her sooner. I should’ve left. I should’ve? —
“I don’t care about your excuses. They’re meaningless. Was I nothing but a charity case for you?”
“No, damn it.” My voice cracks, frustration and regret tangling in my throat. I really fucked this up. This is why I hate lying, even by omission. Nothing ever good comes from lying. Nothing. “You were never a charity case. It may have started as a favor to Ethan, but that’s not how it ended. Believe me.”
Her chest rises and falls, rapid and unsteady. “Tell me one thing. What was in it for you?”
The truth chokes me.
You. It was always you.
But I can’t say that. Not now. Not like this.
“Oh, wait,” she snaps. “I think I know.”
Her expression hardens, closing me out. “Get out.”
“Mackenzie, I?—”
“ Leave !”
A lump lodges in my throat. I glance past her, where the two boys stand frozen in the hallway. Their wide, fearful eyes cut straight through me.
I did this.
My chest hollows out. The weight of my mistake crashes down, suffocating. “I’ll leave.”
I step through her door but stop short. “I’m sorry, boys. I messed this up.”
“Will you be back?” The crack in Liam’s voice is like the final nail in my coffin.
What do I say? I don’t know anymore.
So I give him the only truth I have. “I hope so.”
“Boys, come here,” Mackenzie calls from her room. They keep their watchful eyes on me as they obey their mom. She gathers them into her arms. The three of them lock together in an unbreakable unit.
And I’m on the outside.
I swallow hard and nod and then walk out.
Back at my cabin, I grab Ethan’s letter with unsteady hands .
“Don’t worry if you fall in love with her. She’s easy to love.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Yeah, you dumb motherfucker. You knew exactly what you were doing.
The ache in my chest swells. I crack open a beer bottle and take a sip, but it’s bitter. Hollow. A poor substitute for what I’ve lost.
I should throw the letter in the fire. Should rip it up. Should do something.
Instead, I grip the letter so tightly my knuckles turn white.
There’s nothing better than drinking alone and moping.
Said no one ever.