Chapter 21 Lucas
LUCAS
The door slams behind Jenny hard enough to shake the trailer, but I don’t waver an inch. I don’t think I could move if someone held a gun to my head right now.
Love?
She loved me?
What the fuck does that even mean?
She sent me packing without a moment to explain myself last time, no chance to even try to stay together, and she’s doing the same thing now.
I always thought it was because she didn’t care as much as I did.
I thought she was happy for us to be nothing more than high school sweethearts, or a fling this time, but that word is sending my entire world into a tailspin.
I’m naked, sitting in bed with my skin still cooling from where Jenny was pressed up against me just minutes ago, and everything changed in the course of those few minutes.
She loved me.
She never said it back then, but she drops it now like it’s nothing. I spent years swallowing down my own love for her, scared it was too much.
And now, when it’s far too late, I found out that it was too little.
I was expecting to have to warm her up to the idea of a relationship, prepared to beg her for a chance to take this seriously.
I should have been singing her praises this whole time.
I should have told her that I never stopped loving her, that I never stopped thinking about her.
I should have begged for her back the second I laid eyes on her.
The thought of asking her to come spend weekends with me is laughable now. If I had known, I’d have found us an apartment and surprised her with keys, showered her in flowers and those muffins she likes from the bakery in town.
I’ve been a coward, just like she said, and it’s biting me in the ass. I deserve it.
Instead of worrying about whether we could handle the distance, I could have been making plans to ensure we did. I got so wrapped up in my own fear that I just let her go, let her walk out with my heart bleeding on the floor between us.
I’ve been my own roadblock this entire fucking time, and I have no idea how to fix this.
I don’t even know how to breathe right now.
All I know is that I can’t lose her. Not again.
The next few days are a whirlwind of grief and guilt.
I don’t see Jenny for more than a few seconds, and when I do, it’s the sight of her rounding a corner to get away from me that greets me.
She doesn’t stop when I call out to her, doesn’t meet my eyes if she happens to walk past me.
It’s like everything between us didn’t just fizzle out, it disappeared entirely.
I feel sick to my stomach every time I think about her, which is damn near constant.
Keeping my hands busy doesn’t help. I’m not even keeping track of what I’m doing in the feed room at this point. Moving things around on the shelves doesn’t count as work, but it makes me feel better than standing here doing nothing.
Thinking about her.
I don’t know how I didn’t realize it back then, or how I let my doubts cloud my judgement this time.
Jenny’s never been a soft person, all sharp edges and explosive temper, but I got to see the gentle side to her.
I was one of the only people she relaxed around, and she never let anyone else take care of her the way I did.
And instead of cherishing that, cherishing her, I wasted my chance on doubting that she could ever feel the same way about me.
I tried to get over her when I left for college. Took a roll in the sheets with a few different girls over the years, but they all reminded me of her somehow. They all fell short of her, too. No one ever lived up to my expectations, because the only person I could ever see myself with was Jenny.
Everything always came back to her.
Even when I didn’t mean to, I’d find myself imagining her in the backyard while I did the dishes.
Playing with our dog, or maybe our kid, a bright smile on her pretty face.
If I was being more realistic, I’d think about being friends, getting lunch together whenever we were in the same town. Catching up.
Being happy to be in her life any way she’d allow me.
And now I’ve ruined it all.
I can’t even get out of my own head for long enough to do my job. I’ve been standing here, staring at a half full feed bucket, for God knows how long. I’m supposed to be filling it. I don’t know where I put the fucking bag.
I’m a mess.
Why didn’t I just tell her? Was my ego really worth losing her over? Losing everything? I should have asked, begged, just fucking told her how I felt even if I thought I couldn’t have her.
I’ve never felt so stupid in my life.
I don’t even know how to fix it. I don’t know if there’s any way I can.
I’m tempted to turn down the job and promise to stay here with her if it means I can have her again, but that doesn’t feel like enough.
It feels like an empty gesture, something desperate that doesn’t mean what I need it to mean.
And it’s not what either of us want, in the end.
I don’t want to stay here, even if I would for a chance with her.
She doesn’t want to stay here, either. She’s always wanted to get off the ranch, make something of herself.
We’d both just wind up miserable.
Besides, I know I fucked up too much for a grand gesture like that to matter.
“Cross.”
I jolt out of my self-disgusted brooding to find Wayne leaning against the open door of the feed room. Anxiety sits heavily in my stomach, my mind deciding that he’s here to kick me off the ranch, or at least ream me out for moping instead of doing my job.
Instead, he tilts his head toward the benches by the other wall and grins.
“Come have a beer with me.”
I blink in confusion, shaking my head slowly. If he wants me gone, he should just say it. I don’t need to be coddled and let down easily.
“No thanks, man.”
Wayne’s grin sharpens at the edges. “Wasn’t a request. Don’t have to drink if you don’t want to, but come sit with me, at least.”
This family and their goddamn stubborn streak. I toss the feed scoop back into one of the buckets, wanting to get this over with. I probably shouldn’t, but a beer—or six—sounds fucking heavenly right now.
Wayne leads me over to the benches and sprawls out lazily across one side, his head tilted back against the barn wall.
He snags two beers from the ground and holds one out to me with an arched brow.
I take it, the condensation cool against my fingers, and drop down onto the bench beside him.
He’s relaxed, boots kicked out in front of him, but tension fills every muscle in my body.
I don’t know Wayne all that well, and while he and Jenny have had their issues, I know he’s fiercely protective of his sister. At least he can’t say anything worse to me than I’ve already said to myself.
“You’re in a shitty mood,” he muses, taking a sip of his beer.
I laugh humorlessly and twist the top off my own before chugging half of it down. My hands shake with nerves and frustration, and I wish he’d just say what he has to say and get it over with.
“I’ve noticed,” I say bluntly, staring at the ground between my feet.
“Jenny’s pissed.”
“Noticed that, too,” I bite out, focusing too hard on the ant crawling over bits of hay in an attempt to distract myself.
Wayne sighs heavily, and I see him glance over from the corner of my eye, but I don’t look at him.
“Talk to me, man.” It’s an instruction, not a request. “Seemed like things were going well between you two. You fuck up?”
Guilt chokes me, but I grit my teeth and force myself to nod. I won’t do Jenny the disservice of pretending like this isn’t all my fault.
“Got a job offer out of town,” I say, although we both know that’s not the root of the problem.
I just need to work myself up to saying it out loud.
“She blew up when I told her about it, said I was abandoning her again. Told me… Told me she loved me when we were in high school.” My voice breaks, and I take another long gulp of my beer, desperate for a distraction.
“I thought she wasn’t as serious about us as I was.
Thought she saw what we had as casual. Was too fucking scared back then to admit it, and when I went to college, she told me to fuck off.
Figured that was it. I didn’t realize I hurt her.
She never said… I just thought she was mad. ”
Wayne whistles lowly, shaking his head at me.
“She was. Pissed to hell and back. You betrayed her, even if you didn’t know it.
” Wayne doesn’t sugarcoat things, and it makes me feel a little less stupid for spilling my guts like this.
Maybe he knew I needed this. Maybe he wants me to understand things properly.
Maybe he’s trying to tell me there’s hope for something here.
“She never got over you. Didn’t date anyone after you left.
She and Al talked about you all the time.
I overheard them every so often, saying how much they both missed you.
Seemed like they were the only ones who understood each other on that point. ”
She talked to Dad about me? About how much she missed me? About Dad missing me?
My chest aches viciously at the thought of making both of them so lonely, leaving them here with hardly anything for a goodbye. I thought I was doing the right thing for them, that I was giving Jenny freedom and taking the weight of caring for me off Dad’s shoulders.
I didn’t think I was hurting them.
“Fuck.” The word comes out ragged, threaded with pain and guilt, and I drag my hand over my face to try to keep my tears at bay.
“God, I’m such a fucking idiot. She’s all I ever wanted.
I was hoping we could try long distance back then, but she just told me to leave, and I didn’t have the guts to even ask.
Wanted to do the same this time, thought maybe she could come visit me, or even start her own accounting firm.
Thought we might be able to live together, do things right this time. ”
Wayne takes another slow sip of his beer, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he levels me with a steady look.
“Did you tell her you wanted to stay together?” he asks. “When you told her about the job, I mean. Did you say any of this?”
“She didn’t give me a chance,” I say, my voice breaking. “Ran out before I could figure out what to say.”
“You didn’t try hard enough, you mean,” Wayne corrects me.
I look up sharply, surprised at the gentle edge to the harsh words. Wayne’s face is warm, open, his lips curled just slightly at the edges in a sad smile. He takes a swig of his beer before continuing.
“You could’ve gone after her. Could’ve cornered her and told her all this.
” He shakes his head, disapproving but not angry.
It almost seems like he’s trying to tell me I still have a chance instead of telling me to get lost. “You said you were too scared to say anything before because you didn’t know how she felt.
You know how she feels now. Why are you still being a coward, Cross? ”
That’s the truth of it, isn’t it? Even after all of this, I’m still too scared to ask for anything I want. Terrified to drag Jenny down with me, undeserving of a chance to do this right because I know I’ll still be the same chicken-shit kid who can’t get his life together.
“I don’t deserve it,” I say quietly, dropping my eyes back to the ground. “I don’t deserve her. She’s got so much going for her. She could do better. She deserves better.”
Wayne hums thoughtfully, leaning back on the bench. “Awful funny way of saying that you don’t care enough to change for her.”
I jolt upright, my brows drawing together in fury. There’s a challenging spark in Wayne’s eyes, and my blood boils at the thought that there’s anything I wouldn’t do for Jenny.
“That’s not what I fucking said,” I snap, shoving off the bench to glare down at him.
“I could be the best person in the world, and she’d still deserve better.
I’d work myself to the bone, change everything about myself if that’s what it took, and I still wouldn’t be enough.
I hurt her, Wayne. I’ll never forgive myself for that.
She should have someone who makes her happy, not…
not a fuck-up who’s hurt her twice now. I love her, I’d do fucking anything to fix this, but what if that’s not enough? ”
A heavy thud sounds from the mouth of the barn, and I whirl on my heel reflexively.
Barely thirty feet from me, a broken bag of grain spilling over the concrete at her feet, Jenny stands silhouetted by the early evening light. Her mouth is open in shock, eyes wide and locked on me.
The realization that she heard me slams into me like a freight train. How much did she hear?
Fuck, I wanted to tell her properly, this can’t be how it goes. I have to do this right.
She dashes off before I can get a single word out, disappearing around the wall, and I drop my half-full beer to the ground. Wayne will have to clean it up, I’ll make it up to him later. I can’t let Jenny walk away this time.
I can’t lose her.
Wayne reaches out and grabs my elbow before I take more than a step, and I turn to lash out at him, but he stops me before I can start yelling.
“I’m not telling you not to go after her, but don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lucas.
” He looks me over, his eyes hard and unforgiving.
“You’re right that you hurt her. You fucked up.
I didn’t sit you down so you could go running back to her and fuck up again.
Go into this with a plan or not at all, you hear me? ”
My frenzied panic deflates, and I nod slowly.
As much as I want to run out the door and get down on my knees and swear to do anything she asks, he’s right. I can’t throw promises like that around. If I can’t do right by her, I don’t deserve to have her.
It’s time to make the changes I need to and become someone who deserves her. No more excuses. No more mistakes.
If I don’t want to lose her, I need to get my ass in gear.
I’ll do whatever it takes. No matter what happens, from here on out, I won’t hurt Jenny again.