Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sara
“Failed?”
Three’s staring at me. “Yes.” His mouth shifts into a grim line.
“What are you talking about?” I pull away. “Are you saying I made you feel unworthy?” I blink at him, bewildered, and a ribbon of unease unfurls in my stomach. “Because that’s definitely not how I felt. You were everything to me, and if I ever made you think otherwise … I’m just … I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what else to say.”
“Sara.”
“What?” My cheeks heat up and my brain starts a rapid-fire inventory of the past. Yes, I was a prep school girl going off to an expensive college, but I sure didn’t equate money with worth. And I’m pretty sure Three Fuller knew he was my whole world back then. Always.
His jaw ticks. “It wasn’t you.”
Another blink of bewilderment. “Then where on earth did you get the idea you were unworthy? ”
His face twists into a grimace, like the words hurt him on the way out. “Partly from my own insecurity. That, I can own. And I still sometimes wonder if I’m good enough for you.” He takes a beat, clears the gravel from his throat. “But it was your parents who said the actual words.”
“My mom and dad?”
“I’m sorry.”
“No way.” I shake my head, and my spine goes stiff in defense of them. “All they ever complained about was me . Like my mom got annoyed when I stopped getting facials and mani-pedis with her. And my dad kept bugging me about applying for fall internships. But they absolutely never said a negative word about you. Ever.”
Three waits several moments before responding. “Maybe not directly. Out loud.” He takes another beat. “But you had to know how they felt.”
“My parents liked you.” My lip begins to tremble. “Because I liked you.”
“Well, they sure didn’t like me with you.” Three’s voice is gritty now, like sand pushed through a too-tight hourglass.
“That’s just not true.”
“Think about it, Sara.” His eyes take on a tortured squint. “You were on your way to Stanford, and they were convinced I’d hold you back.”
“Why are you saying this? What did they ever do to make you think they?—”
“I heard them, Sara.” His Adam’s apple dips. “With my own ears. In their own words.” I dart my eyes over to the living room couch. “They were sitting right there.”
I feel like I’m at the edge of a cliff, being propelled over the edge with nothing stopping me from a swift plummet to the bottom. “You were eavesdropping?” I choke out.
“Not on purpose.” Three pulls down his brow. “You were leaving the next morning, so I came over to pick you up for our last date. I had a leather cuff to give you, like mine but smaller. Kind of like a promise bracelet.”
I suck in a breath, my insides doing somersaults. “You did?”
“Yeah.” He averts his gaze. “I was so nervous, my hands were shaking. I had to stuff them in my pockets. When I got here, that front door was open with just the screen. So was the window. Letting in the breeze, I guess.”
“I remember that day. There’d been a heatwave all week. I was packing when you texted that you were out front.”
“I’d already been there for a while by then. Long enough to find out you dad thought I was ruining your future.” He picks up his fork, starts tapping it against the edge of his plate. “And your mom didn’t disagree.”
“Whatever you heard …” I pause for a moment, feeling sick for him, “I’m sure they didn’t mean anything against you. They were probably just a little scared.”
“Of me?” His eyes darken.
“No,” I rush to say. “Afraid of losing me.”
A sad scoff puffs across his lips. “Well, that’s not what it sounded like.”
“What exactly did they say?”
He releases a long, slow breath from somewhere deep inside him. Deeper than his lungs. Like it’s coming from his soul. “Your dad said something like, ‘Sara needs a man who’ll push her to reach her potential, not some small-town kid with no goals.’ Then your mom said you didn’t need a man at all. That you already had your hands full with your own plans. That I’d only hold you back.” He pushes his hands through his hair. “The worst part is, I didn’t disagree. With either of them.”
A kaleidoscope of emotions tumbles through me. If only I’d been in the room, I would’ve been able to defend Three. Then again, my parents never spoke this openly about him when I was around. So I had no idea, and Three didn’t tell me.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
He winces like my suggestion causes him real physical distress. “I’d just graduated from high school, Sara. And you know what science says about the prefrontal cortex in boys that age, right? I probably didn’t reach full brain maturity until … I don’t know.” He lets out a sad scoff. “A couple years ago?”
“Like Sully.” I take a stuttering breath.
“Exactly like Sully.”
I’m quiet for a moment, as the truth plucks at my heartstrings, like a harpist in my chest. “I was in love with you.”
“Well, I didn’t know that,” he blurts. “Not for sure. I hoped. I wanted to believe it. But …” His sentence dies off.
“If you just would’ve told me?—”
“I’m telling you now,” he interrupts. His voice is a husky scrape. “I was in love with you, too.”
“If that’s true”—my eyes burn with unshed tears—“why didn’t you fight for me?”
“I couldn’t.” He keeps his gaze trained on me. “Not after what your dad said next.”
Heat spreads through my torso, flaming up my throat, burning my cheeks. “What could’ve been worse?”
“He told your mom you were only using me to rebel. Biding your time with me to establish your independence.” He puts biding your time in air quotes and my heart sinks a little lower.
“He really said I was using you?”
“Those might’ve been your mom’s words, actually.” The crease in his brow deepens. “But they both agreed you were only looking to prove you couldn’t be controlled. And their theory made sense to me.”
“Three.”
“I know,” he says. “That’s a pretty tragic indictment of my confidence back then, right?” He lets out a wounded scoff. “They were going to confront you later that night—to tell you how they really felt—so I ended things first.” His nostrils flare. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I told myself it was the right thing. ”
“According to who?”
He averts his gaze. “You adored your mom. Your dad was your hero. You don’t even want to believe me now. So I couldn’t come out against them then. And I didn’t want to come between you. I couldn’t make you choose, Sara.”
“I would’ve chosen you.”
“Which also would’ve hurt you.” He takes a beat, then continues slowly. “I wanted you to have the best life possible, and I wasn’t the best.”
“You were.”
A vein pulses at his temple. “If I’d actually thought that, I would’ve given anything to be your man.”
I let out a little yelp, then gulp down the boulder threatening an avalanche in my throat. “So you lied.”
“I did.”
“You made me think my first love was all in my head.”
He drags a hand along the back of his neck, stopping short when he hits the bandage. “Your dad’s a great lawyer, and I was working with the evidence he presented, not with what I wished were true.” He swallows hard. “Your parents thought you deserved more. I agreed.”
“Well, they were wrong.” The corners of my eyes are wet now. “And you were protecting your ego.”
“Maybe.” His nod is almost imperceptible. “Sure. Yes. Self-preservation’s a powerful motivator.”
“You broke my heart.”
He flinches. “I’m so sorry.”
“It took me a long time to recover from losing you.” And I’m not sure I actually did .
“Me too.”
“Please don’t compare us,” I say. “You have no idea how much you hurt me.”
Color rises in his cheeks just above the line of scruff and he runs a finger along the edge of the table. “It’s hard for me to admit this, but I sometimes got embarrassed by my family back then. Especially when I compared them to yours. Which is so stupid, and I know that now.” He pauses, drawing his hand into a fist. “My folks are good people. They’re hardworking. Loyal and smart. No one loves harder than they do. Just we don’t trace our roots back to the Mayflower—” He cuts himself off, then meets my gaze again. “Anyway. I couldn’t stop thinking the Hathaways would always see the Fullers as … less.”
“So you broke up with me as some kind of noble means to protect your family? Does that make my parents the villains?”
“No.” Three works his jaw from side to side. “I’m not trying to be the good guy here. There was a selfishness underneath everything I did. I can own that now. I was just a kid with a chip on my shoulder. And I didn’t want to spend my life going down a road with you where I was always coming up short.”
“You never came up short for me.” I swipe at a tear cresting in my eye. “You still don’t.”
“Well, losing you is what stoked a fire in me to make something of myself. That pain was my fuel. Without it, I may never have ended up being Mr. Fuller at Abieville High. So I guess that’s something good that came from a dark time.”
“Great.” A harsh cry slips out of me. “I just wish I’d known the truth.”
“If you’d known, our lives would be totally different now. Would you want that?”
“I guess we’ll never find out.” My lip trembles, so I capture it with my teeth to stop the shake. “And now it’s too late.”
Three reaches for my hand, eyes boring into mine like bright blue lasers. “Is it?”
The two-word question sends my heart straight into orbit, and my mouth goes slack. “What?”
“Is it really too late for us?”
Hot tingles course through my body even as my skin breaks into chills. Is Three actually suggesting he might be open to some kind of second-chance with me? And if so, could I even trust him? The thought is terrifying. A decade ago, I took my heart out of my chest, cradled it in my palm, and handed it over to him. Then he dropped it. Right on Main Street. In the days that followed, I swore I’d never risk that kind of rejection again. And I’ve kept that promise to myself all this time.
But at what cost?
“Sara.” He presses my fingers.
“You know what? It’s been a long day.” I pull my hand away, pushing back my chair, and stumbling to my feet. “Actually, it’s been a long ten years.” This is all too much to process, and I need a distraction to keep from losing it. As my brain clicks into practical mode, I shove all other emotions aside. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t go.”
Without answering him, I lurch to the kitchen to get his evening dose of antibiotics. Three may have just short-circuited my nervous system, but I’m still in charge of his health and safety. Not to mention, I still love him. And my love will always be bigger than anything else.
When I return, I hand him the pill and a glass of water like a robot on autopilot. “Here. Take this.”
“Sara. Please.”
Please what? my insides scream. What more could you possibly want from me?
Before I can ask him that, though, I have to figure out what I want.
“I just need to be alone right now,” I say. My words are a jagged plea. “To think.”
“Take all the time you need.”
When his voice breaks a little on the word need , I almost fall to my knees and tell him the past is all water under the bridge. That we can just be together now, forever. Our own little second-chance romance, just like every Hallmark Christmas movie I’ve ever seen.
But I can’t. Not yet.
“It’s okay,” he says. “I’ve got this.” He nods to indicate the table. “The dishes. The leftovers. All of it.”
My lids flutter, fighting tears. “Your appointment’s in the morning. You really should get some rest.”
“Nope, thanks,” he says. He waits until I’m done blinking, then our eyes lock. “I told you I’d clean up tonight,” he says. “And I’m never breaking my word to you again.”