Ray
It took me a couple of hours to tear down the venue and get everything ready for the rental company to pick up in the morning.
Since the wedding had been on D I think he just needed to stay busy after spending so many years chasing toddlers and kids alone.
Our property and D&D Ranch, the Daniels’ property, backed up to each other, the middle point being the semi-hidden cove that the town had got its name from. Technically, the Daniels family owned the cove.
Penny—Max and Wade’s mother—had insisted it be open for the public to use whenever someone from the town wanted to go there.
Normally, the locals didn’t venture out that far, and the cove stayed vacant, which sure proved beneficial in our teenage years when we needed a place to go make out with our significant others behind our parents’ backs.
Thinking back on the cove always brought back a swirling torrent of memories. The Daniels boys and I had spent good times, and bad, at the edge of the small creek that flowed through its center.
It stood as a place of solace amid the ever-moving landscape of our lives.
Whether we needed a place to talk, express our emotions, grieve, or just be, the cove was there to welcome us with open arms. The surrounding foliage made us feel like we were enveloped in a comfortable silence, and it was the perfect place to unwind.
I made the split-second decision to make the hike out there, needing to clear my head of the image of Wade’s hollow stare and the subsequent anger I was feeling toward his indifference.
I changed out of my bridesmaid dress, tossing it on the bed and throwing on a pair of black leggings and a threadbare Firefly Cove Police Department tee I had stolen from my dad years ago.
I snagged a hoodie off a hanger in the closet and tucked it under my arm. The cove was often chilly down at the water’s edge, and I planned on sitting out there until I couldn’t feel my feet—or my feelings.
I walked back through the house, stopping by the living room where I could see my dad’s snoring figure posted up in his big chair.
He had gone from a twenty-four-hour stint at the station straight to the wedding, and I knew he had to be exhausted.
Instead of waking him up to let him know I was leaving, I grabbed the quilt that was draped over the back of the couch and covered him up softly, turning out the lamp beside him, and bathing the living room in darkness.
His peaceful frame and lack of a deep furrow in his brow caused my heart to constrict almost imperceptibly. Since my mom died, I hadn’t seen him relax much—if at all. Lately, he was either busting his ass down at the station or carting the twins and Benny to and from sporting events.
Thankfully, there were only four of us kids left at home, and I helped out where I could.
I was the oldest of ten, and my mom passed when I was thirteen. Complications during her pregnancy with my twin sisters had led to an emergency surgery post-delivery. The doctors weren’t able to save her, and she bled out on the operating table.
There were days I wished I had my mom to give me guidance, but Wade’s mom, Penny, had stepped in when she could after her passing.
She could never take the place of my own mother, but she was a wonderful stand-in when I needed some motherly advice. When we subsequently lost Penny, it left a gaping hole where a mother’s love should have been—for all of us.
On soft feet, I padded my way toward the door. I turned the knob slowly, hoping to avoid the creak of hinges that desperately needed to be oiled.
Managing to get outside without making much noise, I shut the door with a soft click and turned around, coming face-to-face with my fifteen-year-old twin sisters.
They had the audacity to turn around and attempt to walk in the other direction, feigning as if I hadn’t already seen them.
“Lucia y Sofia Cortez. Détente ahí mismo.” Lucía and Sofia Cortez. Stop right there.
“Shit,” Lucy mumbled under her breath, realizing they had been caught attempting to sneak back in.
“Shit is right. And you’re going to be in deep shit if you don’t get your asses inside and in bed. You’ve got school in the morning.” I placed my hands on my hips, doing my best to act as an authoritarian and control the situation.
Being the oldest often came with the responsibility of stepping in as judge and jury when the single parent wasn’t available. Not having Mom around for the entirety of the girls’ lives meant they respected me, their oldest sister, as the motherly figure in the household.
They turned, dejected, and hung their heads, padding their way to the house. When Sofia’s hand grabbed the doorknob, I spoke.
“Chicas.”
“Si, hermana?”
Their Spanish was choppy, as Dad hadn’t bothered with speaking it much after Mom passed. They could get by, but they weren’t fluent like the rest of us who grew up in a bilingual household, and they didn’t possess the fluidity of a native speaker.
“La próxima vez, usa la puerta trasera. Te amo.” Next time, use the back door. I love you.
It took them a second to decipher my rolling words, even though I’d done my best to slow them down. After they mentally translated, wicked grins spread across their faces, and they nodded, entering the house.
Once the door shut and I heard the lock flip, I made my way toward the clearing of trees that led to the cove, shaking my head.
I hadn’t been much different in my teenage years, but being on the receiving end of it, I now knew why Dad’s hair had gone grey at the temples.
Walking through the woods between the Daniels ranch and my father’s house always gave me a sense of peace and comfort.
It was eerily quiet, accented only by the sounds of the night, but the silence never felt oppressive. The chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves were the soundtrack to some of my best memories, and the sound washed over me like a soft hug.
Easing up to the water’s edge, I closed my eyes, feeling the cool bite of the wind on my skin.
Although it was chilly, I didn’t reach for my hoodie. I let the icy breeze seep into my flesh, covering my arms and legs in a fresh layer of goose bumps. A small breeze blew through the cove as if whispering promises of solace and peace.
“You’re gonna catch a cold,” a gruff voice snapped from behind me, bursting my bubble of serenity. I didn’t need to turn around to know that it belonged to the broody cowboy who inhabited the body of my best friend.
“Like you care,” I groused, ignoring the pleasant warmth of his body as he stepped up beside me. We lowered ourselves to the damp earth at the edge of the small creek.
“Sunshine…” he started, but I effectively cut him off by holding up my hand.
“Don’t Sunshine me, Wade Alexander Daniels.”
“Oh, I get the full name tonight,” he said with a sardonic chuckle, and the sound floated across my bare skin like a tingle of electricity.
The glare I shot in his direction could have rivaled the icy chill that was washing over us.
I wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit, which lately, there had been a lot of. I was tired of walking around in circles, attempting to ignore the elephant in the room. This shit was getting on my last nerve.
“?Me estás tomando el pelo, Wade? ?Tienes el descaro de venir aquí, a nuestro santuario, y burlarte del hecho de que nos trataste a mí y a todos los que te rodeaban como mierda en la boda de tu propio hermano gemelo? No, vete a la mierda.”
Are you kidding me, Wade? You have the nerve to come here, to our sanctuary, and mock the fact that you treated me and everyone around you like shit at your own twin brother’s wedding? No, fuck you.
His confused silence let me know that he didn’t understand most of what had just come out of my mouth, but the way he wouldn’t meet my eyes told me he understood the bite of my tone. The dejected way he hung his head also told me that he had been effectively scolded.
I wished that thought brought me satisfaction, but it only brought pain. I didn’t want to scold Wade. I wanted him to open up to me like he had so many times before.
I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply to calm my racing heart. I didn’t want to fight with Wade. He was my best friend, for fuck’s sake. He knew me better than anyone else in the world.
I knew this angry side of him wasn’t normal, but it didn’t hurt any less when he lashed out. It hurt more knowing he didn’t feel like he could reach out to anyone, especially me, in his time of need.
Opening my eyes, I was met with the image of a broken man begging for relief from the overwhelming pain and sadness he’d been feeling. The despondent look on my best friend’s face gutted me to my core.
The vibrancy that normally surrounded Wade Daniels had faded, and in its wake was a shell of the man he used to be.
His long, sandy-blond hair was pulled back into a bun at the back of his head.
His chocolate-brown eyes that normally twinkled with mischief were lifeless, dark purple bags underneath, hinting at the sleepless nights I knew he’d been fighting through.
I tenderly skated my fingers across the back of his hand, softly turning it palm side up and lacing our fingers together. He tightened his grip three times in quick succession. Our silent gesture of the mutual love we have for each other. Three times for three words. I love you.
What started as a childhood secret handshake, one that only we shared, turned into discretely sharing teenage crushes, and eventual adult affection.
In seventeen years of friendship, we’d never crossed the line into anything past the friend zone, except for once. Neither of us was willing to make a move that could ultimately break the sacred bond we’d worked so hard to build.
But seeing him so dejected, and so sad, had me itching to crawl into his lap and kiss away the pain. I’d do anything to take away the torture inside his mind, even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness—but I couldn’t lose the best friend I’d ever had.