The Better Choice

by Modglin, Kiersten

  “I haven’t stolen in months. Not since I met you.”

  “I could never believe you,” she said. “Never. Even if we got back together, I wouldn’t be able to trust you.”

  “I will work day and night to earn back your trust,” he vowed. When he reached for her hand again, she didn’t pull away. Instead, her eyes filled with white-hot tears.

  “You should’ve already done that. You should’ve told me the truth about who you were. You should’ve recognized who I was. Was I just a face in the crowd to you that day? Are you so numb to stealing that you don’t even notice the people you hurt?”

  “I—no, of course not, I—”

  “I was a person, Asher. A person who you destroyed just because you could. How could you be both people? The man who won my heart and the man who broke it?”

  “I never deserved you,” he admitted, pulling her fingers to land on his chest. “But I’m yours. My heart…it belongs to you. I made a mistake. I just need you to forgive me. I can’t survive without you.”

  She sucked in a breath. “You told Bianca about stealing from me. Why?”

  “Because when we were kids, we got into a lot of trouble together. She did much worse stuff than I ever did. It was…I don’t know. It was what connected us, I guess. I never wanted it to be that way with you. I never wanted you to see my darkness.”

  She pulled her hand away at that. “You know, the thing is, I could’ve loved you through that. I could’ve forgiven everything if you’d just told me the truth. But the lies…I can’t forgive that. My parents were married twenty-two years when they passed away. And my mom always told me the most important part of any relationship is honesty. We will never have that.”

  “Finn lied to you, too,” he said.

  “About a path that you put him down. Finn has been kinder and more selfless to me in the time that I’ve known him than you ever were. Don’t compare your crimes.”

  He sighed. “So you’re saying you’re choosing him?”

  She thought for a moment. “I’m saying I’m not choosing you, Asher. That’s really all that matters.”

  A tear cascaded down his cheek, and he wiped it with the back of his hand. “I’m not a bad person, Blythe. I’m just…I think maybe I’m broken somehow.”

  She couldn’t help but feel empathy for the shell of the man standing in front of her. Maybe he was broken. Maybe he truly had an addiction that he couldn’t squash. Maybe growing up with a rich, successful family and choosing to forge your own path took more out of a person than Blythe was able to comprehend. Either way, she wasn’t his bandage. She wasn’t meant to fix him. She wasn’t going to spend her life healing him while creating new wounds in herself with each lie he told. And there would be others. That much she knew. New lies. New stories. New victims. If Asher believed he needed help, she hoped he would seek it professionally, but she’d never be able to look at him again the way she once had.

  “I know you don’t think you’re a bad person, Asher. None of us want to believe that about ourselves. And I don’t wish anything bad on you—truly I don’t. What you’ve done, though, it’s too much for me to forgive. And it was bad, not just a prank. I hope you can get the help you need…but I can’t wait around for that.”

  “If you truly loved me, you would.”

  She put her hand on her hip, shocked at the audacity of his words. “Silly little sayings like that might work in advertising, but real life is so much more complicated.” She held up the bag. “Thank you for bringing this by, but I need to get to work.”

  He nodded, his chin quivering as he tried to maintain composure. “I’m going to get my act together, Blythe. I promise you I will.”

  “I hope you do,” she said softly. “For your own sake.”

  “Will I ever see you again?” he asked as she pulled open the door to excuse him.

  “I really don’t know, Asher. It’s a big city, after all.”

  He stood for a moment as if he expected her to say more, but eventually turned to walk away. As he descended the stairs slowly, she shut the door, taking a deep breath as the tears found her eyes. Was any city big enough for baggage of this magnitude?

  Chapter Thirty

  ONE MONTH LATER

  Darlington, Texas: Home of the 1976 State Champion High School Boys Basketball Team.

  Finn thought the sign was hilarious as they rolled into Blythe’s hometown. She was nervous, fidgeting in her seat and adjusting her hair anxiously. Would the place have changed? She doubted it. Would she be welcomed back? Also questionable. People who left Darlington were often looked at as traitors, and people who left Darlington for big cities were pretty much assumed to have something wrong with them.

  “I didn’t know how I’d feel,” she admitted, “being back in the last place I saw my parents.”

  “How do you feel?” he asked, staring at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “I still don’t know.” She shrugged, staring as they drove past Miller’s Marketplace, the gazebo that badly needed a paint job, and the old, run-down bank on the square.

  He held her hand across the console between them in the rented SUV. “You know we can turn around at any time.”

  She smiled at him, trusting that he truly meant it, but knowing it was no use. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed Darlington. The small-town ways she was used to were of no use in the big city. If she was ever going to make it in New York—ever going to make it with Finn—she needed him to get to know this part of her. She wanted him to see the place she’d learned to ride a bike—the big hill behind the old white house that was now gone. She wanted him to see her old school, to eat at the restaurants she’d frequented as a teen. As much as he’d shown her around New York City and told her about his life there, she felt she owed him that in return. She wanted to know him on every level, and she wanted him to do the same with her.

  “Turn left here,” she instructed, pointing toward the only motel in town, a small red and white building with one floor and six rooms. “It’s right there.”

  He pulled in, unable to hide his shocked expression. “Wow,” he said simply.

  “I told you it was small,” she said. “And not very nice, I’m afraid. But the nearest city is Austin, and it’s an hour away.”

  “It’s great,” he told her. “Really, it is. I never knew places like this existed. I mean, I guess I did…but I’ve only ever seen them on TV. It always made them seem…made up.”

  “Funny,” she said, climbing out of the car. “I thought the same thing about men like you.”

  He waited for her to walk around to his side of the car after he climbed out, throwing his arm around her shoulders and heading into the motel. A bell rang out over the door, announcing their presence.

  After a few moments, the couple heard hurried footsteps approaching them. “Do you need help?” a woman’s voice called. “Oh,” she said when she saw them, clearly shocked by who awaited her. “I’m sorry, I was waiting for my, er, handyman to get back from the market.” Her eyes drifted to Blythe. “Well, my word, Blythe Jameson! What in heaven’s name are you doing back here?” AnnaBeth Better placed her hands on her hips, her eyes wide with excitement.

  “Hey, AnnaBeth,” Blythe said politely, unsure how she was going to be welcomed. “It’s good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you, too,” she said happily, rushing to her side and pulling her into a quick hug. “I can’t believe you’re home! And who is this?” she asked, gesturing toward Finn. Without waiting for an introduction, she extended a hand. “I’m AnnaBeth Better. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Finn O’Brien,” he told her, shaking her hand politely. “Blythe’s boyfriend.”

  “Ooooh, boyfriend?” she asked happily, looking back to Blythe with a dropped jaw. “Well, you’ll just have to tell me all about it. You went off and found yourself a New York boy and brought him home to our little corner of the world. I can’t wait ’til the girls hear about this! We’ve been wondering wh
en we’d hear from you next.”

  Blythe forced a smile, feeling incredibly awkward. “We aren’t here to stay for long. Just for a few nights. I’m showing Finn around Darlington.”

  “Oh, sure,” she said. “Well, let me just get y’all checked in, then! Where are my manners? I swear I’m usually much more professional. You just make sure you get him over to Norma’s to eat a piece of apple pie and have some sweet tea…we both know you’ll have him wantin’ to stay then.”

  “Will do,” Blythe promised. “So, you work here now?” she asked as AnnaBeth walked behind the counter and flipped open the book to get them checked in. She gave Finn the side-eye, waiting to see if he’d get a kick out of the fact that the only motel in town didn’t even run off of computers yet.

  “Actually,” AnnaBeth paused for dramatic effect, “I own the place!” She smiled broadly, holding her arms out to her sides as if saying ‘Ta-da!’

  “What?” Blythe asked, feeling shocked. “Seriously? AnnaBeth, that’s incredible!” She genuinely meant it, and she could tell how much the place meant to her old friend by the look on her face.

  “Thank you,” she said modestly, jotting something down in the book and turning around to grab a set of keys from the wall. “Well, it’s not much, you know? But Ed and Lori were planning to sell the place after they retired, and I didn’t want it to end up in the wrong hands. We always loved this place as a kid. Remember when Momma brought us here for my ninth birthday so we could all swim in the pool?” She laughed. “It holds some great memories for me, and I needed a job anyway, so it just worked out.” She shrugged as if it were that simple.

  “I’m really, really happy for you,” Blythe told her, feeling her shoulders lose their tension as she connected more and more with her memories.

  “Thank you,” she drawled. “I’m really happy for you, too, Blythe. I do hope I’ll get to see you around. Will y’all at least be staying for the Summer Festival? It’s next week. Momma makes these fried cinnamon rolls that are just to die for!”

  “Oh, I don’t know if we’ll be staying for that long,” she said. “We’ll need to get back to work.”

  “Of course you will,” she said, though Blythe noticed a hint of disappointment. Within seconds her face lit back up. “Well, I’ll just have to have Momma fry you some up before you leave. You’re in room six, okay? The best one we’ve got.”

  “What do we owe you?” Finn asked, pulling out his wallet.

  “Oh, don’t be silly.” AnnaBeth waved his cash away. “Not for one of my oldest friends. Y’all just be sure to send some business my way.” She winked.

  Just then the door swung open and a man wearing a baseball cap, buttoned-up flannel shirt, and jeans came strolling in carrying a large box.

  “Hello, can I help you?” AnnaBeth asked.

  “Delivery from Miller’s,” the boy drawled.

  “Well, you aren’t Hank,” AnnaBeth said, opening the box as he set it down before her eyes traveled back toward him. Blythe noticed the blush on her cheeks almost instantly.

  “No, ma’am, I’m his nephew, Blake. Nice to meet you.”

  Blythe pushed Finn out of the way, sensing the immediate tension that filled the room as AnnaBeth eyed the man in front of her like a piece of candy waiting to be devoured. She could hear her giggling as they closed the door.

  “This place is straight out of a television show,” Finn said, finally dropping his arm from her shoulders and heading across the gravel parking lot toward their room.

  “You haven’t seen the half of it,” she teased, stepping into the stale-smelling room and feeling a sense of relief. She was home.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Over the next few days, Blythe showed Finn all around Darlington—taking him to eat at Norma’s Cafe, to shop at the local market, and to sit in the town’s gazebo and stare at the people that wandered aimlessly through the downtown square.

  So many familiar faces passed by her: old teachers, classmates, friends of her parents, members of her childhood church. Nearly everyone they passed stopped them to catch up. A trip that should’ve only taken ten minutes dragged out to an hour just because of the many conversations she had along the way.

  Somehow, though it used to drive Blythe crazy, she was finding herself growing more and more nostalgic for the town she’d once called home.

  On their last day in town, Blythe finally worked up the courage to take Finn to the spot where her home had once stood. They drove down the quiet, tree-lined street with apprehension filling her belly. She had cool tears in her eyes before she even saw the hill.

  As Finn slowed to a stop where she directed him, they stared up at the concrete slab, the only remaining thing from the home that held nearly every memory she had. Nothing was left of it, and yet all the memories remained. She could still picture it standing there—playing Mother May I at the end of the blue porch, camping out in the front yard, decorating the large oaks with ‘spider webs’ at Halloween.

  The memories flooded her mind, leaking out of her eyes in the form of tears. Oh, how she missed them. She climbed out of the car, listening to Finn follow suit. She climbed the concrete steps at the edge of the street that led up to the house, wanting so badly to wake up from the nightmare she was living.

  As she reached the top, standing in front of the house that was no more, she let herself cry for all that she’d lost. For all that she’d run away from, as if that would solve everything.

  She felt Finn’s hand on her shoulders as he pulled her into his chest, rubbing her back and letting her sob. She cried for what seemed like hours, but could only have been minutes, letting herself finally admit to all the hurt she was feeling. Had that grief really been there all this time?

  “This must’ve been a beautiful home,” Finn whispered in her ear, his cheek pressed against hers.

  She nodded, unable to form words. It was, she wanted to say. It really, truly was.

  * * *

  Back at the hotel as they were packing their things, Finn stepped outside to answer a quick phone call about work. Blythe knew they were missing him. Though he’d never admit it, Finn wanted to become foreman with his construction company more than possibly anything else in his life. He was good at his job. She’d seen that just in the few random things he’d fixed around their apartment. Their apartment. It felt good to say. Everything with Finn felt good.

  When he came back into the room, he was wearing a tremendous smile that made her think maybe her thoughts had willed the promotion into fruition. She eyed him suspiciously. “What did they say?”

  He walked toward her without a word, scooping her up and kissing her softly. “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I love you, too,” she said. It hadn’t been long since they’d started using the words but the feeling hadn’t begun to grow old. Oh, how she loved to hear him say he loved her. “I’m guessing it was good news, then?”

  “Sit down,” he instructed, using his eyes to guide her toward the bed.

  “Ooooh, the anticipation,” she joked, letting him lead her.

  “So, I just talked to Grizz,” he said, his eyes lighting up. There had yet to be a time when Finn mentioned his boss’s name that didn’t make Blythe think of greasy chicken. It was too close to the word ‘gristle,’ she supposed. She covered her mouth at the thought, suddenly feeling nauseous. Well, this is new.

  “You okay?” he asked, leaning back a bit.

  “Yeah, I just—” She stopped, feeling her stomach begin to rumble. She pushed him backward. “No.” In a mad dash for the bathroom, she stumbled a few times, kicking the door shut behind her as she leaned over the toilet, hurling up the contents of their last lunch at Norma’s. Her eyes watered, her legs shaking as her body worked to rid itself of any trace of the meal.

  She heard him knocking on the door. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m…” More vomiting. She held her hands on the toilet seat, watching the water fill with a disgusting mix of food and stom
ach acid. Just when she thought she was done, she’d feel her stomach tense again and know it was not over.

  The bathroom door opened and she winced, though she could make no effort to stop him from entering. He hurried to her side, pulling her hair back from her eyes. He placed one hand on her back and rubbed careful circles.

  When she was finally finished, he leaned over toward the sink, still holding her hair with one hand, and wet a washcloth in his other hand. She flushed the toilet quickly, utterly mortified that he’d had to see that.

  “Are you okay?” he asked after she had a chance to wipe her mouth.

  “I don’t know what came over me,” she admitted. “I hope it wasn’t the food.”

  “I ate the same thing, and I feel fine,” he said.

  “You didn’t have the salad, though. Maybe the dressing had gone bad. Or the lettuce had E. Coli like that outbreak before.” She groaned. “This is not the time for me to be getting sick.”

  “You can’t help it,” he assured her.

  “I know, but I can’t travel like this.”

  “Then we’ll stay,” he told her. He sank down beside her, his back pressed against the bathtub.

  “You have work.”

  “Work can wait.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, her forehead wrinkled with worry. “I’m so sorry about this.”

  “No need to be sorry,” he said, squeezing her thigh. “It’s not your fault.”

  “Hopefully it’s just a fluke. I already feel a ton better.” As if to prove it, she stood up and walked to the sink. She picked up the lime green toothbrush from the counter and began brushing, dismissing the immediate gagging feeling that came with it.