13. Aspyn
ASPYN
I’m taking Monday and Tuesday off to move, because those are the days Jett is free. Most of my friends have been able to get the time off too, except Emmett, a realtor with out-of-state clients in town those days.
Deacon, Cody, and Jett are in the kitchen, talking about how their favorite NFL team is doing early in the season, while my girlfriends are huddled up in the primary bedroom gossiping.
I don’t mean to miss out on it, but I’m busy making a pasta salad as a side dish to accompany all the burgers and brats.
When Deacon and the boys quiet down, I overhear Emmett and Bear discussing the best jewelers in the area, so I can only hope the next year or two will be full of weddings.
Emmett’s girlfriend Stefanie is finishing up college in Denver, graduating in December, and he’s ready to pop the question the night of her graduation.
I hear the ping of the front door and frown. Everyone who’s supposed to be here is, but Deacon stands up, pats my shoulder, and disappears off through the dining room to “handle it.”
Focused on the food I’m making, I don’t even realize all the men have exited the kitchen to the back patio.
At first, I think nothing of the bickering voices I hear at the front door.
Then, slowly, I creep into the darkened dining room, focusing on the voices.
Uh oh. Sean is saying something about “my sloppy seconds” as Deacon’s features harden, and he stabs a finger into Sean’s chest.
“You asshole. I saw her first, you piece-of-shit motherfucker!” Deacon explodes, his face flushed.
“I saw her, and she looked like a fucking angel. And then all you did was complain about how she was vanilla and how you hated her hair. I saw her first! If you had been a real friend, you would have let me go over to introduce myself, and I would have tried every day to make her happy. But you've only ever loved yourself. You’ve never given one goddamn about me or her ! I know you better than anyone else, Sean, and you never really loved Beck. You’re a narcissistic, pathetic son-of-a-bitch who’s only out for his own gain.
And I, for one, loved her pink hair. And everything else about her.
Always have. Always will.” Deac lowers his voice.
I’m stunned silent, my heart thumping so loudly in my ears I can barely hear Sean’s response. I still my breath and eavesdrop.
Sean harumphs. “Sure, you saw her first, but you were too much of a pussy to fight me for her after I called dibs.” His voice is loud and angry, and I wince. Dibs? I had been a dibs?
“You’ll always be a pussy, Deac. If she ever lets you inside of her, don’t forget who was there first! Now, fuck off out of my way. This is my fucking house.”
Sean pushes past Deacon as I creep back into the kitchen and pretend I haven’t heard a word.
“Where’d the guys go?”
I turn my gaze reluctantly to Sean, standing a few feet away from me in the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Jesus, Sean. What are you doing here? I told you I could make this hard on you if you didn’t stay away. And I will.” I challenge him with a fearless glare.
“Well, I saw all my family and friends here on the Ring doorbell and figured my invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail.” His voice drips with sarcasm and hatred.
Anger seeps through my veins at the sight of him, and I want to lay him out right there on the tile, but in that moment, I realize the best thing to do is let the guys handle him.
“They’re out back.” I make my voice as uncaring as possible and give a one-shoulder shrug, averting my eyes as I focus on stirring my pasta salad.
“You could’ve just said that,” Sean snaps, walking past me close enough that his shoulder smacks into mine. The back door shuts after him, and then I spot Deacon silently following him.
I stand at the sink, looking out the window that overlooks the patio and the hot tub. It’s wide open to let in the fresh September air, but it also lets in voices. Maybe they don’t know it’s open, because they stand right underneath it.
Deacon tells Sean in hushed tones, “If Beck lets me inside her, I’ll be the one who puts a ring on her finger and comes home to her every night.
Only her. She’s all the woman I’ll ever need.
And I’ll be the man who gives Beck the children she’s always wanted, then be the one who stays forever.
You’re just a piece of shit who dragged her along because you are a giant fucking child who wanted to have your cake and eat it too.
I feel sorry for your baby having you as a father, having to be raised by someone who can never love them, because the only person that you’ve ever loved is you.
Get the fuck out of here man, and don’t come back.
Consider this dibs on the rest of her life, motherfucker. ”
Sean gets in Deacon’s face as my heart thumps in the confines of my ribs. I can’t believe the words Deacon just uttered—the confession he’d made to Sean about his love for me. I do the only thing I can think of.
I run. I throw the pasta salad in the fridge, dart into the bedroom, and shut the door like an intruder is pursuing me.
“Jesus, girl. Are you okay?” Tara asks, walking over to me and putting her arm around me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Please tell me there are no ghosts in here,” Marissa says as her eyes dart around suspiciously.
“What happened?” Wendy adds.
But I can’t tell them. I can’t open my mouth and explain to anyone that Sean had called “dibs” on me ten years ago, and that I could have shared the last decade with Deacon, who has apparently been in love with me since he first saw me standing at the punch bowl with my pink locks.
My eyes flutter closed. “Can I—can I get a sec?”
“Sure,” Tara tells me, and my girlfriends head single-file out of my bedroom, giving me curious looks.
When they’re gone, I shut the door, lean my back against it, and slide down it until my knees pull up underneath me.
I rest my chin on my knees as tears stream down my cheeks.
Had that been the difference between ten unhappy years and ten that could have been wonderful? Dibs ?
The door rattles when someone knocks on it, and then Deacon’s voice loudly calls, “Don’t say a word to her! Walk away, Sean, for good. Like you should have done ten goddamn years ago.”
The next sound I hear is the slam of the front door, and I bury my head in my hands and try to breathe.
Of course, Deacon loves me.
Now that I’ve heard it, I realize it’s the best-kept, most obvious secret I’ve ever heard.
I trace the years back in my mind. Our friendship.
The thoughtful gifts he’d always given me.
The kind words he always had ready for me if I needed it.
Subtle hints he’d dropped over the years, suggesting that I could do better than Sean.
My own shattered self-worth, the only thing keeping me from listening.
Glancing down at my rose-gold wristwatch, the tears blur.
Deacon has always been the most thoughtful man I had ever encountered.
I think of all the restaurants I’ve sat at with Deacon over the years because Sean had been called in to work, or because “something came up.” Anniversaries interrupted, late arrivals at Christmas and weddings.
Deacon, my dancing partner when Sean was unavailable or just plain refused when I begged.
Deacon, who fished with me, camped with me, took me hiking, included me in basketball games with the guys, fixed my car when it was broken…
Yes—of course, Deacon had loved me all along. I only feel like a fool for not realizing it sooner.
And now I have a choice. I can pretend I didn’t hear a word Deacon said at the front hall or on the back patio—pretend like the connection between us is normal. That things are as they’ve always been; despite knowing the way Deacon has ached for me for ten years.
Or I can put him out of his misery. I mean, he’s the best man I’ve ever met in my life, and if he adores me the way he says he does, it would make me a very lucky woman. But it’s so soon after the breakup, isn’t it?
It hits me that I’m not as broken-hearted as I should be about Sean, because I’ve been getting over him for years.
Even though I had been in a relationship with him, I learned to manage my expectations.
Accepted less than I deserved. Gave a hundred percent and got nothing in return.
I had already wrenched my heart away from Sean after having it broken repeatedly, and the proof of him cheating with Nurse Q had been the wake-up call I needed to leave.
But I had been leaving him in small ways for years.
Nudging out of his arms in bed, turning him down, and shutting myself down emotionally.
I’d kept small secrets and internally despised him a bit for the past three years, at least.
That wasn’t love, was it?
How many years had it been love? Two? Three? Four? When had it faded into a na?ve hope to get back the love we’d lost?
But Deacon. Well, Deacon feels like inevitability.
I look around my boxed-up room and suddenly, I can’t wait to be out of this house. It feels like the scene of the crime: where I’d disappeared slowly for eight years, playing a role for Sean with no regard for my needs, dreams, or desires.
Unsure what I’m thinking, I scour through a few boxes and pack my trusty carry-on suitcase, ensuring a couple of smutty books make it in before I zip it up. I set my favorite pillow on top of it.
When I open the door, Deacon’s standing outside of it, and he practically falls into the bedroom.
“Hi. Would it be okay if I stayed with you tonight and the next day? Just until I move back in with my parents?” I ask him, pointing to my suitcase. “The truth is, this place feels haunted by the ghost of the girl I used to be, and I need out.”
The look on my face must say everything, because Deacon just nods and gives me a thin smile. He’s got a faraway gaze in his eyes that’s not typical of him, and we’re quiet as we walk into the kitchen.
“You were in there a while. Everyone ate and headed out. Weird vibes, I guess,” Deacon tells me as he grabs a plate and methodically begins to reheat my burger and make it just the way I like it, down to three perfect pieces of crunchy iceburg lettuce on top.
He piles on a big heaping of my nearly gone, popular pasta salad.
“What would you like to drink?” Deacon asks.
“There’s an expensive as shit bourbon open in the cabinet by the fridge,” I tell him. Before I know it, he’s poured us two glasses, heavy on the rocks.
“Hey, why is your hand bleeding?” I ask, spotting a few drops on his knuckles.
“Oh, well, I broke Sean’s nose. He said some nasty things about you that needed a response. He just left. At the time, it felt good to punch the guy, but now I feel numb.”
I head to the freezer and grab a soft ice pack I use for migraines, then wrap it in paper towels. “Here, at least ice your knuckles. Did you break anything other than his nose?”
“Our decade-long friendship for good, I imagine. Not that I regret it. You know I picked you, anyway.”
Deacon wraps his hand with the ice and winces. I press a kiss to the top of his head as he leans over, my lips in his golden blond hair. Then, I lean my forehead against the back of his neck. Being this close to him comes naturally.
“I understand feeling numb. That’s why I need to get out of here.
It’s not mine. This place was always a conditional home, where I was welcome if I behaved like a good enough girl.
I’m done being who someone else wants me to be, but I worry I may have lost myself somewhere along the way.
” I gulp hard, fear gripping me with a steely fist around my throat.
Massive tears roll down my cheeks as I imagine how it went when Deacon and Sean first spotted me. Sean calling “dibs,” Deacon respecting his friend enough to let him pursue me and draw me under his narcissistic spell until I’d given all I had away.
Things Deacon never would have asked me to give.
And then he’s off the chair and grabbing me up in his strong arms, pressing my face to his chest.
“I still know exactly who you are, Beck, and I’ll remind you until you remember.” He whispers the words against my hair, and it warms my aching, frozen heart. Telling me that, despite it all, everything will be okay.