CHAPTER 3 KAYLEE
“Do you hear that?” Kate asks.
We all stand silently, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes from the suit hanging on the back of his closet door. It’s open—like he was getting ready to put it on, but he never did.
“It’s like a buzzing sound,” Ellie says, her brows knitting together.
Luke peeks under the bed. “It’s his phone!” His words are full of victory, but that doesn’t make me feel much better.
He isn’t answering because he doesn’t have his phone. Did he throw it under his bed on purpose? Was he trying to hide it? It’s not the best hiding spot, so I somehow don’t believe those were his intentions.
What the hell happened?
And where the hell is he?
Luke pulls it out from under the bed, and we all look at it. The screen lights with notifications—probably all our missed calls, but all they say is notification. They don’t tell us who the calls were from. They don’t show the first few lines of the text messages.
And I don’t know his passcode to get in.
Luke tries eight-eight-eight-eight, like the number Ben wears on his jersey twice. It doesn’t work. Clearly he’s not like Jack, whose passcode is his number—five—repeated four times and we’re all very well aware of that fact.
Something feels very off about all this. He was so sure not that long ago, and to just run out isn’t like him. It isn’t like us. We’ve built a certain level of trust and honesty. Taking off isn’t part of that structure.
And yet…he isn’t here.
We’ve all changed now, which to me signifies that everyone around me has given up hope the same way I have. The looks of sympathy are hard to bear, but I’m trying not to dwell on them.
Time passed in a flash this morning, a whirlwind of hair and make-up and dressing in the gown that was meant for me to wear as I married Ben.
Only it’s looking more and more like that wasn’t what it was meant for.
Jeb has been quiet all day, standing in the background quietly worrying about his son.
And that’s the point where I’m at now, too.
Everyone inside plays with Ben’s phone, trying to get it to unlock so they can find some clue as to where he disappeared to. I join Jeb out on the deck.
He stands there looking out over the forest, and I move up beside him silently as the hot press of tears continues to burn behind my eyes, but I haven’t let more fall in a while now—not until this conversation, anyway.
“His mom and I sure messed that boy up,” Jeb murmurs. “I’m so sorry for what you’re going through.”
I can’t stop the tears from falling at his words. “I just want him to be okay,” I say softly.
Jeb turns and looks at me, and he reaches over to give my shoulder a soft squeeze. “You’re a good person. Bigger than I’d be in your shoes.”
I press my lips together. “That’s love, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is.”
The slider door opens, and my mom steps out.
“For the record, you didn’t mess him up,” I say.
Jeb looks over at me with shining eyes, and the emotion there claws at my already broken heart.
“He’s a good, kind man, and wherever he is, he’s doing what he thinks he has to do.” I reach over and squeeze Jeb’s hand, and he squeezes mine gently back.
“You’re right. He’ll come back for you.”
“I hope so,” I whisper.
I head inside, passing my mom on the way in and then my brothers and their wives and sons and friends.
“You okay?” Ellie calls after me as I begin my ascent up the stairs.
I nod. “I just need a little time to myself.”
I close the door behind me, and I cry.
It might be minutes, or it might be hours, but a knock eventually comes on my door. It opens before I get the chance to invite whoever it is in, and I spot Ben as he walks in and quietly closes the door behind him.
My chest tightens. I’m not sure if it’s good or bad yet that he’s actually here. I want my heart to lift in joy, but I’m not sure it can just yet.
He stays where he is, though the look on his face softens a beat when he sees me lying on the bed in tears.
We stare across the room at each other a beat. I don’t have any lights on in the bedroom—I couldn’t be bothered to turn them on when I came up here, but the bathroom light was left on so the room is lit from that.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.
“Where were you?” I whisper back.
“I, uh—it doesn’t matter.”
My brows crinkle together as I sit up. “It does matter.”
He shakes his head a little, avoiding looking at me as he speaks. His eyes are down on the ground in front of him. “What matters is what I need to say. I can’t marry you.”
It doesn’t matter that I was expecting those words. They still hurt. “Okay,” I say.
He looks confused for a beat, like he expected me to put up a fight. But what am I supposed to do? Beg him to be with me? If he doesn’t want to marry me, then I can’t force him to.
“Do you, um, still want to be with me?” I ask, and I hate how hopeful my voice sounds.
“I will always want to be with you, but I can’t. I just think there’s too big a gap between our ages, so it’s better to cut it off before we get in too deep. You’re my best friend’s little sister, and I never should’ve gotten involved.”
Before we get in too deep?
What the fuck?
Too goddamn late for that, Benny Boy.
“Right,” I say instead, pressing my lips together as the pain of his words slices through my stomach. My hand moves there, and his eyes flick to the motion.
He played on every single one of my fears.
I’m the little sister. I’m too young for him.
He’s saying all the things he promised me wouldn’t be issues for him.
I wish I was strong enough in the moment to dish back one of my own, but I’m at such a loss for words right now that I can’t even come up with anything to try to strike back. “So that’s it?” I ask meekly.
He lifts a shoulder. “I guess. You deserve better than I can give you, Kaylee. My life has been a series of changes, one after the other, and I can’t—I just can’t take this step with you.”
Part of what our commitment would offer is stability, but I refrain from mentioning that. I’m too young.
I’m the little sister.
Those words play on repeat, cutting a little deeper each time as my stomach turns over again and again.
I feel sick.
I feel stupid.
I feel scared.
But most of all, I feel like I need to run.
I need to flee this place and everybody inside. I need to get out of Montana where so many dreams were within my reach only to be ripped away by whatever this alternate reality is.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I ignore him.
I want to rewind the clock back a year and a half when my dad was still alive and then I could have an honest talk with him about my future and my major and what I want to do with my life and the type of guy I might end up marrying someday.
I want to rewind further than that and press forward with my own interests instead of constantly living in the shadow of my brothers.
I want to erase the last couple months where I fell harder and harder for Ben Olson each day.
And at the same time, I don’t want this to be the end. I want to stay here and fight for us.
But he’s scared, and he’s choosing to end this instead of fight. I can’t be the only one fighting. I can’t hold onto something that isn’t there any longer for him.
I don’t say a word to him. Instead, I pull my suitcase out of the closet and I tear open the dresser drawer. I throw my things haphazardly in.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I hiss. “But I sure as hell can’t stay here.”
“I’ll go,” he says softly. “You stay here with your family.”
“And be reminded of how good everything was before you just didn’t bother to show up for our wedding then out of the blue ended things with me? No, I’m good, thanks.”
“It’s not like that, Kay—” he begins, but I cut him off.
“It’s exactly like that. It was fun while it lasted, but we both knew it wasn’t forever, right?” I keep my tone much brighter than I feel as I toss my shit into my suitcase. It’s never going to close and I’m not going to get it all in, but I have nowhere to go anyway.
I live with him back in Vegas.
He doesn’t say anything, which only confirms that he didn’t think this would last forever, either.
I sigh. “Are you going back to Vegas?” I ask without looking at him.
“Not for a while,” he murmurs.
“Fine. I’m going there to figure out my next move.”
He presses his lips together and nods. The dresser is empty, so I head to the bathroom next.
I grab everything as quickly as I can and then I’m done.
I grab what I need from the closet, leaving the wedding dress hanging on the back of the door.
It’s lopsided, hanging there in the kind of way it should be after a rowdy and sexy night with my new husband… only that’s not why the strap broke.
I attempt to close my suitcase, and as I struggle with it, he walks over. He calmly pushes a few things in then helps hold the top down so he can easily zip it.
He’s so close. I look down at the top of his head while he zips up the suitcase, and I see the luscious dark hair that I’ve gripped onto while he sent me flying over the edge of pleasure. I smell the clean, fresh scent I’ll always associate with him and the time we spent together.
My eyes drop to his shoulders, and I think for a beat about how those aren’t mine anymore.
I won’t have them to lean on or to cry into or to watch shake as we laugh together.
My eyes move to his hands as he zips—hands that planned to teach me how to cook and that brought me so much pleasure and that supported me or held onto me just as I did back to him and, yes, that’ll play football again starting at the end of this month. Those aren’t mine anymore, either.
Nothing about him ever was mine, though. Not if he could so easily end it. Not if he could just walk out on us.
He doesn’t even have an excuse, and I’m too emotionally exhausted to press for one. I don’t care where he was. He just broke up with me, and that’s all I can focus on right now.
I move to grab the handle, but he lies his hand on top of mine.
“I’ve got it,” he says softly. Our eyes meet, and the fire is still there.
The passion and the need and the want is all still there.
I can’t believe this is the end. It all just feels so wrong—so unbelievable when there’s clearly still so much emotion between the two of us. So much love between us.
I purse my lips and remove my hand. I’m not going to fight over who carries the suitcase down the stairs. Instead, I grab my purse and throw my phone charger into it, and then I follow him down the stairs where my family waits for the two of us.
Jack glances at the suitcase in Ben’s hand and at my red face. It’s not tearstained—not for the moment, anyway—but it definitely looks like I’m close.
“Where are you going?” Jack asks, his attention directed at me rather than Ben.
“Away from here,” I mutter.
“You don’t have to go,” Ben says, and as much as I’m confused and hurt and sort of hating him in this moment, I can’t pretend like it’s easy on him to face my family right now—Jack in particular.
“None of you have to go. This is on me. It wasn’t right for the two of us to get involved, not when I work with both Jack and Luke, and I should have realized it sooner.
I’m so sorry to all of you. I’ll get out of here.
I invited you up for the summer, so please, use the place. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll be on my way.”
“Can I have a moment, son?” Jeb asks.
Ben’s eyes edge to his dad. “Of course.” The two of them head out to the patio.
“You okay?” Luke asks, standing and moving toward me for a hug.
“Fine.” I go through the motions and hug him back, but my heart isn’t in it. “Can one of you take me to the airport?”
“Where are you going?” Jack asks, moving in for the next hug.
“Back to Vegas for now, I guess.”
“Stay at my place,” Jack says, glancing at Kate, who’s nodding. “We’ll come with you.”
“It’s fine. It was all for show anyway, right? We all knew this would never last.”
“Oh, honey.” My mom moves in for the next hug. “We aren’t just going to leave you alone to fly back to Vegas.”
“Please, Mother,” I say softly, my tone one of begging. “Just let me go. I need to do this for myself.”
She backs easily down with the warning look Jack gives her, and thank God for protective older brothers who just seem to know what I need in this moment—even though part of me blames him for this mess in the first place.
It’s not fair, but I’m at the point in all this where I have to blame somebody, and he seems to be part of the reason Ben decided he couldn’t go through with things.
“I’ll take you,” Jack murmurs soothingly, and I nod. I sort of want Luke in this moment, but it’s better it’s Jack. He’ll know what to say—or maybe what not to say, too. “Let me just talk to Ben first, okay?”
I’m a little nervous I know how that conversation’s going to go, but it’s not really my business to worry over any longer.
Besides, I have a flight to book.