Waiting Seventeen Years #3
“I did everything to keep her, just like you and Royal,” Preston says. “Why didn’t it work?”
I swallow hard, my heart cracking down the center. The anguish in his voice is torture to my soul, especially knowing I’m the one who caused it.
“You can’t force someone to love you, Preston,” Harper says. “That only works when they already do.”
“I got her pregnant,” he says quietly. “I thought that would tie her to me forever.”
My throat closes, and I cuddle Peanut to my chest. Magnolia gave no indication of knowing that. I’m not ready to tell anyone. But he’s telling this girl, this ex, like she’s his closest confidant.
“You can’t tie someone to you forever, even if you have ten kids with them,” she says. “They can still leave. We both know having a kid doesn’t make a man stick around. Why would it make a woman?”
“You don’t know Dolly,” he says. “It should have worked.”
“I know women,” she says. “She’s probably getting an abortion right now.”
My mouth falls open with shock and indignation.
“What?” Preston growls, sounding as pissed as I feel.
“What do you think a girl does when you get her pregnant without her consent?”
“Damn it,” he roars, making me jump and Peanut prick up her ears. “I should have locked her in there until it was too late for that.”
“I don’t know her, you’re right about that,” Harper says quickly. “Maybe she wouldn’t do that.”
I wait for Preston to defend me, to tell her I’d never do such a thing. “Even if she has the baby, she doesn’t have to come back,” he says, sounding calmer but even more despondent. “How can I keep her forever?”
“I don’t think locking her up is the answer,” Harper says. “She can’t choose to stay if you never give her the chance.”
“I gave her the chance,” he mutters, so quiet I have to lean close to the window to hear him.
“And she used it to leave,” Harper says. “I’m sorry, Preston. I think you have to accept that.”
“What if I can’t?”
“Then you find someone better,” she says. “Someone who loves you as much as you love Dolly.”
“There is no one better,” he growls. “And I don’t want anyone else. I want her.”
I hear sirens through the open window, and I know I can’t stand here and listen forever. I’ve heard more than enough, anyway. I knock on the windowsill and pull the curtain aside, poking my head out just as lightning flickers in the dark sky.
“Hey,” I say, trying not to flinch when I see that their fingers are linked.
“Speak of the devil,” Harper mutters, giving his hand a quick squeeze before releasing it. “I’ll leave you two at it. Text if you need anything?”
“Sure, Miss A,” he says with a half-hearted smile.
She rises and comes to the window, her gait careful on the slanted roof, her long hair blowing out behind her in the damp chill.
I step back, holding Peanut to my chest like some kind of armor as Harper swings through the window and hops down into the hall in front of me.
She’s a full foot shorter than me, but I’m the one who feels small when we pause for a second, sizing each other up.
How much does she know? What does she think of me?
The look she gives me says enough. It’s just shy of loathing. “What are you doing here?” she asks, her tone cool.
I swallow and stroke Peanut’s ear to calm myself. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“I’m his friend,” she says flatly, batting away the curtain as it billows around her. “I care when my friends get run over by their crazy exes.”
My mouth drops open with indignation. “Is that what he called me?”
“No, it’s what I called you,” she says, reaching out and pushing the window down, closing the glass and stilling the curtain—and cutting Preston off from our conversation.
“What’s your problem with me?” I ask, glancing from her to the window. For such a small girl, she’s intimidating as hell. I’m not sure I want to be alone with her.
“Why are you doing this to him?” she demands.
“Doing what?”
“You know what,” she says, giving me a withering look. “Why aren’t you with him?”
“You’re not, either,” I point out, refusing to back down.
“Ah,” she says, nodding. “You’re still in love with his cousin, then.”
I draw back, giving her a look. “No, I’m not.”
“Then what’s your problem?”
I’m not about to get into that with this girl, so I turn the conversation back on her. “Are you saying you’d be with him if you didn’t love Royal?”
“Zero question,” she says flatly. “Hell, if Royal was down for sharing, I’d be with him now.”
I gulp, trying not to picture a scene from my worst nightmares. I already know Preston’s down for sharing—I can never unsee the proof of that fact. Apparently his ex is too. If she gets Royal on board…
“It’s more complicated than that,” I mutter.
“How?” she asks. “I’m not saying you need to give up everything for a man, but if you have room for one in your life, and that man is Preston? Seems pretty simple to me.”
“So, the only reason you’re not with Preston is because you love someone else more?”
She tucks her hand in her back pocket. “Abso-fucking-lutely. What’s your excuse?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“Don’t know what? He loves you more than life itself. What exactly are you waiting for? I don’t care how famous you are, you’re never going to find someone better than Preston Darling. Never.”
“I know, it’s just…” I trail off, afraid I’m going to cry if I speak. I don’t owe this girl an explanation, and I’m working on letting go of my need for approval. And yet, I feel the need to defend myself and my choices.
“His face,” she says quietly, staring at me. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“No,” I protest. “It has nothing to do with that.”
She studies me coolly for a second, her eyes unconvinced.
“If you don’t love him back, just put him out of his misery and let him find someone else.
Now that he’s not enemy number one in this town and can come out of hiding, some lucky bitch is going to snatch him up and appreciate him a hell of a lot more than you do. ”
“You don’t know our history,” I say, hearing how flimsy the excuse is even as I say it. I don’t know what she knows, and I’m not going to explain the whole sordid tale to her. But part of me wonders. Do I not trust him? Or am I still punishing him for something he did five years ago?
Harper snorts. “Believe me, I know he’s no saint.
I also know what else is out there. You did a number on him, but he’s still a rare fucking find.
Now that I think about it, if you don’t want him, and Royal doesn’t hate the Darlings anymore, maybe I can float the idea of a third.
Preston’s unicorn material, don’t you think? ”
I glare at her, knowing she’s goading me now but unable to keep from responding. “He deserves someone who puts him first.”
“Then put him first,” she says. “He may not love me the way he loves you, but if you don’t recognize big love when you have it, I can’t help you.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” I ask. “Trying to help?”
“For some fucked up reason, I think I am,” she says. “And not just for him. For you, too. I know how hard it is to find that kind of love. If I could help someone else find it, even someone I don’t like, it would be a crime not to.”
I swallow, stung by her blunt words. “You don’t like me?”
“You hit my friend with a car and then left,” she says, then gives me a little smile. “But I could be convinced.”
“You want me to… Win you over?” I ask, flustered by the utter audacity of his ex making such an outrageous suggestion.
“Hey, if you’re too pissed to forgive him for—I assume it had to be cheating? I get it. A girl’s got her pride. And I admit, it takes a certain kind of strength to withstand the savage love these Faulkner boys dish out. But if you can’t, you’ve got to let him know. He deserves that much.”
I nod, unable to speak as I hear the sirens outside grow so loud I know they’re at the gate.
Harper’s staring at me like she knows too, like she knows what I did and she can’t quite believe it.
What else was I supposed to do, though? When you find out someone’s committing a crime, you call the cops.
“I’m not even going to ask why they’re here,” she says.
“But I’d rather not be around for it. One last thing, though.
Plenty of other girls—minus the shallow bitches who can’t see past his scars—will be lining up for a chance to pick up the pieces when you’re done with him.
Step aside and let them have his broken love if you can’t endure the whole one he’s offering you.
Trust me, it’ll be more than enough for most of them. ”
Without waiting for a reply, she spins on her heel and hurries off down the hall, apparently not wanting to be part of the shit show that’s about to go down.
I don’t blame her. I wish I didn’t have to be, but I caused it.
I wish I had more time to warn him, to explain, to figure this out. But time’s run out.
Lifting the window, I stick my head out again. The sirens are loud, but the top floor blocks the view to the west, where the driveway comes up. I can’t see the gate from here, but I know they’re outside—several of them. “Preston,” I say. “What are you doing up here?”
“Waiting for the storm,” he says, staring at the milling grey clouds that flicker constantly with their own internal turmoil.
“You could fall.”
“Anything can kill you if you’re not careful.”
“Was that a threat?”
He turns to me at last, his remaining eye bright with surprise. “I’d never threaten you, Doll.”
“Well, maybe you should have,” I say. “Or at least warned me.”
“You know who I am,” he says. “Who I’ve always been. You don’t have to be here.”
“I do,” I say, setting Peanut down in the hall before crawling out the window.
“Don’t,” he says, rising.
“What?” I ask, looking up at him where he stands, the wind plastering his white shirt against his lean, masculine body. Damn, but he’s beautiful.
“Don’t come out here,” he says, stepping toward me. “It’s dangerous.”