Chapter 18
I ’d deleted the unintentional voicemail after realizing Asher hadn’t meant to call when I’d been changing Kaia and that—even though one of his friends had clearly been trying to prove otherwise—he had no feelings for me other than irritation. But I could still hear his words as if I were listening to the muffled message right then.
I’d been hearing them in my mind all day, and they hurt more than Jackson’s crushing grip had.
It was sad that a man I’d only really known for less than a week could affect me more than a man I’d loved most my life, but I’d been absolutely wrecked by his words. Hearing him praise me for how I was doing with Kaia had only made my bruised heart ache worse.
But this day had been the wake-up call I’d needed to realize I was truly only there for Kaia.
At the last second, I turned onto my favorite street in Huntley and whipped into one of the spots at the coffee shop, desperately needing a pick-me-up after this soul-shredding day.
I reached over to right one of the plants that had fallen over, embarrassment pulsing through me at the reminder of why it was in my car in the first place. Before I could do something ridiculous like cry all over again, I grabbed my bag and hurried out of my SUV and into the Huntley Square shop...
And immediately wished I hadn’t decided to stop when I nearly bumped into one of the last people I wanted to see right then.
“Heather, hi,” I said awkwardly as I side-stepped the girl I’d grown up with. “How are you?”
She drew in a deep breath and glanced at the door as if she planned to leave without saying a word to me. Making the small space between us even more uncomfortable than when I’d walked in on her and Jackson’s conversation in the General Store last week.
Releasing the breath she’d just taken, she rocked toward the door before looking at me and hissing, “I’m not gonna pretend with you for the sake of playing nice because I have nothing kind to say to you.” Before I had the chance to fully grasp her words or spite, she leaned closer to say, “You should’ve let him go six years ago.”
Shock kept me in place for long seconds after the door shut behind Heather. When I finally glanced around as I took a step toward the small line, I found nearly every curious and prying stare on me as the townspeople whispered things I really didn’t want to hear.
I tried to put on a brave face; tried to take another step in the right direction. But as everything from this ridiculous day threatened to overwhelm me, my feet carried me out of the shop and to my car before I could order.
By the time I got home, both of my parents were in the kitchen talking, but with the frail grip I had on my emotions, I wasn’t sure that was a conversation I could handle just yet. So, I slipped by without their notice and stole through the halls until I was opening my sister’s door.
Wren tapped on her phone a few more times before slowly looking up, her eyes widening when she saw me. “Who are we burying?”
A shaky laugh burst from me as I shut her door to lean against it. “The other night, you said Jackson might’ve grown apart from me like you knew he had .” I studied the worry and apprehension on her face before asking, “You meant Heather, didn’t you?”
“Possibly,” she admitted after long moments of hesitation.
It felt like my entire body sagged under the weight of everything that had been kept from me, and I wasn’t at all ignorant to the irony of it.
Karma hurt.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure,” she quickly claimed. “I’m still not. I just...I’ve just had my suspicions.”
I trudged across her room to sink onto her bed. “Explain.”
“After you left for school, I started running into Jackson at the General Store.” As if sensing I was about to remind her that he made deliveries every morning, she held up a hand and added, “ Not in the mornings and way too often.”
My head slowly dipped in acceptance even though I knew that wasn’t all.
“So, I started going there all the time to see if he’d be there, and nearly every time, he was. Whenever I ran into him, they always looked like I’d caught them doing something, even though I never did.” She made an irritated face as if she would’ve preferred to. “But even though Jackson would rush out whenever I showed because he needed to ‘get back to the ranch’ or whatever, he’d always be waiting in his truck by the time I left. Every time.”
“I see,” I murmured as I thought over Jackson and Heather’s conversation from last week, seeing it in an entirely different way as I did.
“So, what?” Heather had challenged him. “She comes back from Tennessee, and you just act like the last six years never happened?”
“She was never gone for me,” Jackson had said after sending a warning look her way, prompting a bitter-sounding laugh from Heather.
“Right. And how do you know it was the same for her?”
I’d been too stunned and hurt by what I’d thought I’d walked in on then, but what if the warning look Jackson had given Heather had been a reminder and not something born from frustration?
What if Jackson’s hesitation after her last question had been out of hope rather than uncertainty and doubt in me? Because now I couldn’t stop thinking about how hopeless her laugh had sounded. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d vainly and incorrectly assumed Heather had been talking about my leaving when she’d questioned Jackson for acting like the last six years had never happened...
But what if it’d been the last six years of them ? And what if Jackson’s guilt when he’d realized I was there had been because I’d walked in on them and not because they’d been talking about me?
“I bumped into her tonight,” I told Wren and tried to swallow past the knot in my throat. “She seemed so angry with me and told me I should’ve let him go six years ago.”
Wren carefully studied me before saying, “I would’ve said something if I’d ever known for sure. It’s just been something that hasn’t seemed quite right.” At my dejected hum, she asked, “Is that why you look like you’ve gone ten rounds with an angry bull?”
“Wow, thanks,” I mumbled sarcastically and smacked at her leg when a carefree laugh bubbled from her. “It’s—it’s been a day.”
“Well, don’t save all the drama for yourself,” she said as if she wanted to share in this wreck of a day with me. Tipping her chin at me as she settled against her headboard, she added, “I already asked but I’ll ask again: Who’re we burying?”
“No one,” I said with a flippant roll of my eyes, even as I proceeded to tell her about my day in reverse. From why I still hadn’t had coffee today to everything with The Jerk to the nightmarish proposal from Jackson—leaving out the reason behind the dusting of bruises on my jaw.
“I can’t believe Jackson actually thought you’d say yes after everything this weekend, and especially with a proposal like that .”
“I know,” I agreed, the words barely making it past the emotion clogging my throat as I shifted so I was fully facing her. “Wren, there’s something else.”
“Are you pregnant?”
“What? No!” A harsh breath fled from me at the asinine assumption. “How could I even—I just got home two weeks ago and haven’t—just, no.”
She shrugged like there were clearly other times, places, and men.
And I guess, to my sister, there were. But up until I’d come face-to-face with Asher Briggs, there had only been Jackson for me.
“Anyway, it isn’t anything like that. It’s—” Just like that, anger and grief rose up to consume me as I looked at my effortlessly happy sister. When I continued, my voice shook and wavered, but my eyes stayed mercifully dry. “You should’ve been told a long time ago—we both should’ve. And even though I don’t wanna be the one who tells you, you deserve to know.”
“If it’s about Dad, I already know.”
I went completely, utterly still as that betrayal burned hotter. “What?”
Wren’s head moved in small but quick nods for so long before she gave a harsh shake as she quickly swiped at her cheeks. “Yeah, no, I already know.”
“And you didn’t . . . Wren . . .”
“What, tell you?” she asked, sniffing in the middle of a forced laugh. “Why would I tell you, Lainey?”
“Because I’m your sister,” I cried out accusatorily. “That’s our dad!”
“And you would’ve dropped everything if you’d found out,” she shot back defensively. “I figured if Dad didn’t tell you—both of us—when you graduated, then I’d tell you myself. Then everything fell apart because you wanted to chase a new dream, and I knew when you found out, you’d drop everything, and they’d trap you in those fields forever. So, I didn’t say anything.”
I sat there, too stunned and hurt to speak as nearly a minute passed. “How long have you known?”
“Right before Christmas,” she said solemnly. “Overheard Mom and Dad one night.”
My chest pitched with the force of my next exhale, but I just stood and started for the door.
“Lainey—”
“No,” I said over her and twisted to see the remorse mixing with her resolve. “I’m so aware of what I kept from everyone, but like I told Jackson this morning, I would’ve never kept this from you. Clearly.”
I left before she could say anything else, then hurried to my room.
Less than ten minutes later, I was loading two suitcases into my SUV while my parents demanded to know what I was doing and what happened.
“At the moment, I’m getting a hotel until I can get an apartment,” I said as I shut the trunk and turned to face their enraged expressions. “I know what you want from me—I’ve always known. But you can’t use people like they’re objects, or pieces in some giant game. You can’t use them like they aren’t people too.”
My mom held up both her hands in a placating gesture. “Let’s just go inside and talk this through.”
“No, I’ve tried talking to y’all,” I said as gently as I could manage in that moment. “You don’t wanna talk to me, you wanna control me. And not just y’all—Jackson, and his parents too. And it feels heavy and disgusting.”
“It feels that way because you’re making mistakes and going against your family,” my dad argued.
A heaving breath left me. “But I only feel like that inside this house.” Before either of them could respond, I added, “I love this farm. There’s...goodness, there’s so much I love about it. But not as a career or a life for me.” I gestured to the house. “I was serious this morning when I mentioned Wren. She loves it more than I ever could.”
My mom scoffed, but I just focused on my dad and said, “I’m sorry. I’m so incredibly sorry you’re sick. My heart is breaking, and I haven’t even fully come to terms with it yet, but I still deserved to know. Wren deserved to have you tell her instead of overhearing y’all talk about it months ago.”
My parents shared a worried look, then returned to their refusals and demands when I started for my driver’s door.
“I need time, and I think y’all do too,” I said as I slipped into my seat. “I’ll come by this weekend to talk.”
“You already had six years’ worth of time,” my dad countered. “ Time’s what got us into this situation where you’ve forgotten who you are and your place in this family.”
That soul-deep reaction to do whatever it took to end the fight and make them happy was burning in my veins, but even as I nodded, I found myself saying, “Or maybe I found myself.”