Chapter 4 #2
“Well, people change. No, we didn’t keep in touch.” I could taste the bitterness on my tongue as the words left my mouth.
They say friendship breakups can be as tough as romantic breakups. I’m here to say, the ending of my friendship with Hayes Woodson was the greatest loss of my life—as far as a person who was still living.
I’d grieved, and I’d hurt, and it had taken a long time to get over the betrayal.
I’d been blindsided by the person I’d trusted most.
“I always thought he was the reason that you broke up with me,” he said, turning to look at me when he approached the stop sign.
Are we really doing this on the day I just said goodbye to Abe?
Scotty and I had dated for six months. It was high school. It just didn’t work out.
And sure, Hayes hadn’t liked him, but that wasn’t the reason I’d ended it.
It wasn’t the only reason, at least.
Scotty was a narcissist at its finest. He was all about himself, and it had been entertaining at first, but it wore on me over time.
“Nope. I think the relationship just ran its course.” I stared out the window, looking at the field where Abe had taught me to ride a horse all those years ago.
My head was pounding. My heart felt like a gigantic elephant had copped a squat there.
“I don’t think so, babe. I think that dude was jealous.” He turned down the final street, and relief flooded that this was almost over.
Did he seriously just call me babe?
And is this driveway the longest driveway known to man?
“It was my choice, Scotty.” I made no attempt to hide my irritation. He had zero self-awareness. We’d dated more than a decade ago, and today was not the day to have this conversation. Hell, there wasn’t even a reason to have the conversation. We’d remained friendly after we broke up.
But today I was grieving, and he was completely unaware.
“I think it was hard for you to share me back then. But I’m more balanced now,” he said, as he put his yellow Camaro in park.
I sighed. He wasn’t going to let it go. “Hard for me to share you with who?”
“My fans. The music industry.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t give you what you needed because of my craft, my people—they came first back then.”
I did what I could to stop my jaw from hitting the floor.
The Disasters only performed once, from what I remembered from back then.
And it had been in the garage of Scotty’s parents’ house.
Me and four other people attended the show—I’m not judging because I was proud of him for chasing his dreams, but I hardly had to share him with his fans and his “people.”
“I promise you that I did not break up with you because of your musical aspirations. You know I support chasing your dreams. I’ve had many, and I would never have a problem with someone pursuing what they love.”
“So what was it, then?” He reached for my hand, and I startled.
What in the absolute loving hell is happening?
I was in some sort of Magnolia Falls twilight zone.
We hadn’t talked in years. I thought this would be a faint memory for him.
“Scotty, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m just not up for it today. I’m sad, and I just want to go inside and be in my feels, okay?”
“Can I come inside with you?” He waggled his brows. “Remember all those good times we had?”
Actually, no. I can’t recall a single good time at the moment.
“I need to be alone. But it was good to see you. Take care.” I tugged my hand away and unbuckled my seat belt.
“I miss you, babe. Let me take you to dinner tonight.”
“I can’t tonight.” I pushed out of the car.
“I’ll call you, okay?” he shouted, but I just kept walking, relieved when I heard him pull down the driveway.
Just as I put the key in the door, the sound of crunching gravel came from behind me. I turned around to see Big Red driving toward me.
With a man I didn’t recognize behind the wheel.
I truly was in a Magnolia Falls twilight zone today.
I marched toward the car, as the guy put it in park and stepped out.
“Who are you?” I demanded, arms crossed over my chest. “And how do you have my car?”
“I’m Carter. I work for Warner.”
Is that supposed to be helpful?
“I don’t know who Warner is.”
He tossed me my key and pointed at the blue truck now coming up the driveway. “That’s Warner. He owns the mechanic shop. He followed me here so we could drop your car off.”
Warner got out of the blue truck and walked toward me. “Engine’s fixed. You needed an oil change, too, so we got it all fixed up.”
“First of all, I didn’t call you. Do you just pick up random cars left in bars’ parking lots and fix them?” I shook my head in disbelief.
Carter chuckled, and Warner looked confused. “No. Hayes reached out and asked me to take care of it and drop it off here for you.”
Hayes.
Of course, he did.
Maybe it was guilt from the way our friendship had ended.
I sighed. “Where did you get a key?”
“He said you always kept your spare in your glove box, and I’ll be damned if he wasn’t right.” Warner laughed. “But in the future, it’s not the best idea to leave a key in the car. It’s an easy way to get it stolen.”
“No one is exactly trying to steal Big Red,” I said, trying to hide my laughter and feign irritation. They’d fixed my car and that meant I wouldn’t need to call Uber for a ride and risk another awkward drive with Scotty.
“Fair point.” He chuckled.
“How much do I owe you?”
“It’s already been taken care of,” Warner said as he and Carter climbed into his blue pickup and waved.
Of course, it was. This was such a Hayes move. He didn’t ask; he just did it.
And yes, it was nice that he’d had my car fixed.
The problem was, I didn’t want Hayes Woodson to do me any favors.
That hadn’t been helpful to me in the past.
And I’d learned that lesson the hard way.