Chapter 12
Thatcher
“Why is Blaire texting me about flights back to Chicago?” Raelyn shouts over the phone. “Do you have any idea how early it is?”
“It’s four hours earlier here,” I point out, wishing I’d ignored her call. But I know my sister. She’s the most persistent person I’ve ever met. I could turn my phone off and she’d still find a way to get a hold of me, just so she could yell at me.
“What did you do?”
“Before we go pointing fingers, let’s remember who signed us up for the Cupid’s Crawl without our knowledge or consent. Did you know Maggie handcuffed us together the second we sat down at the bar? It’s like we were ambushed.”
“I thought it would be fun,” Raelyn objects. “Besides, haven’t you been in love with her since you were twelve? You’re welcome.”
“Except telling her that totally blew up in my face.” I’m too sleep-depraved to be having a second argument in the span of thirty minutes.
I can hear Blaire angry packing down the hall.
It feels like my heart’s been sent through a meat grinder.
Her anger doesn’t make any fucking sense, which is why I don’t know how to fix it.
“Great. You totally freaked her out.”
“What?”
“She just called off her wedding, Thatcher. Two weeks before she was going to marry someone who did nothing but keep secrets from her the whole time they were together. Someone who didn’t value her or treat her like a priority.”
“And that’s my problem how?”
“It’s not,” Raelyn admits. “But we woman are a complicated breed. If you love her, which anyone with eyes has known for twenty years, then just be there for her while she figures herself out. She’s going through a lot.
It’s going to take more than one magical day for her to heal.
You have to decide if you’re going to be the guy who stays by her side while she works through her shit, or if you want to bail. But Thatcher?”
“Yeah?”
“Make a decision and stick to it. She needs someone who’s consistent.”
“Have you really known I’ve been in love with her since we were kids?”
“I’m your twin. How would I not have figured that out?”
“Scary.”
“I’m going back to bed. I have two more hours before I have to get up to catch my flight.” Without so much as a goodbye, the call ends.
I sit there, staring at my phone. My thumb hovers over the photo album app, and I open it. A flood of pictures from the Cupid’s Crawl fills my screen. In all of them, Blaire looks happy and carefree. She looks…in love. Maybe she just needs time to fully step into that feeling.
I toss the covers aside, pull on a pair of sweatpants, and head down to her room.