I apologize for this letter being so short, but lately I’ve been so tired and don’t have much to report. I await your next letter, and as always, we thank you so much for allowing us to be her parents. It warms my heart to know that should the day come that she wants to know about you and Jack, I can tell her how special you both are.
Love,
Misty
I sit at the counter, looking at the photos of Kinsley. Her hair is long and the same deep brown as mine, but her eyes are all Jack. Hazel with flecks of green mixed in and the thickest black around the iris. She’s stunning. Even at twelve years old, it’s clear she’s going to be a very beautiful young lady.
And smart, which is even better.
Her love of numbers definitely doesn’t come from me. Jack was an accountant before he became a wilderness guide.
I release a heavy sigh, laden with the guilt that still haunts me. While Kinsley is thriving and doing well, I’ve gotten older and even more listless.
She’s growing and becoming someone I will never know. Of course, Misty and Samuel have always been open in the spirit of what we asked for, but that was just the luck of choosing them. When the sixty-day period expired, we lost all rights to her. The fortunate part was picking two people who don’t have an ounce of malice in their hearts and show their appreciation by honoring an agreement we all know they don’t really have to. If Kinsley ever wants to know more about us, the option is there, but until then, I get photos and letters.
I’ve never asked for more, and I never will, mostly because of Jack. He chooses zero contact, and I understand it. It’s incredibly difficult being on this side. To see this girl in photos but never hear her voice or see her smile.
My phone pings with a text from Grayson.
Grayson: Are you coming? Pizza is here.
Me: You bet.
Tonight, however, is not a night to make any other choice other than how much pizza to consume.
I grab my purse and head out. The drive to his house takes about five minutes. When I was looking for my own place, I knew I wanted to be close to my other brothers. I don’t understand why, but Grayson is my favorite sibling.
Mostly because he has Amelia, the most precious little girl who I love with my whole heart.
“Auntie!” Amelia yells and runs to me as I exit the car.
While I may not have my own daughter to hold and love, I have her. No one but Jack will ever understand how much Amelia coming into my life saved me, and I do whatever I can to help my brother with her.
“Look at you,” I say as she stops in front of me. “You grew.”
“No, I’m the same size.”
“Well, you look bigger.”
Melia smiles brightly. “Then maybe I am.”
Grayson comes out, carrying her doll and looking haggard. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself. You look like crap,” I tell him.
“Gee, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He rolls his eyes. “Pizza is here, and I’m starving.”
“Aww, you waited for me,” I tease him.
Amelia tugs on my hand. “I made him.”
“Which is why you’re my favorite Parkerson.”
“I’m everyone’s favorite,” she informs us.
Grayson scoops her up and lifts her above his head. “You’re a monster. That’s what you are.”
I smile at the effortless love the two of them share. My brother hasn’t had it easy with Melia. Yvonne and he had plans. They were going to get married, raise their daughter, and my brother would’ve been miserable. However, when Amelia was two weeks old, Yvonne brought her and all her belongings to Grayson and then left.
While I grapple with the idea of being anything like her, I, at least, care. Yvonne wasn’t a kid. She was a grown woman and walked away, never looking back.
I follow them and hear a booming laugh from inside the house.
Immediately, my body tenses. I feel the tingles of each nerve ending lighting up, knowing whose laugh that is.
Usually, I’m able to control myself. To push aside the feelings that haven’t subsided in over twelve years. You’d think I’d be a master at it. That I could get over this childhood love because, surely, it can’t be a real thing anymore, but here I am, trembling inside.
“Are you the monster or the food?” Jack asks as Grayson and Amelia enter the living room in front of me.
Amelia laughs. “I’m the food. Daddy is the monster.”
Don’t think about it. Do not let yourself imagine a life that never could be.
“Do you need saving, my precious?” Jack asks as he approaches them.
“Save me, Uncle Jack!”
He moves forward, pulling her out of Grayson’s grasp and clutching her to his chest.
And I imagine a very different scene with a very different girl. One who would have been loved and protected by him. A little girl with hazel eyes and dark brown hair.
As the laughter subsides, Jack’s eyes meet mine and a flash of something like regret passes before his easy smile replaces it.
“Hey, Stella.”
“Hey, Jack. I thought you were lost in the woods,” I say, clearing my throat and swallowing the emotion that vision brought.
“Thankfully, the trip ended early.”
“They realized you were too inept to lead?” I joke.
“Now, we both know that’s not true. The main guy was covered in poison ivy.”
I shake my head with a smile. “And the inept thing rings true.”
Grayson walks over, tossing his arm around my shoulders. “Now, Stella, don’t forget that Jack is inept in everything. Dating, firefighting, football . . .”
“I’m capable where it matters.”
“And where is that?” Grayson challenges.
“I’ve never had a woman complain about my prowess in the bedroom.”
Gray rolls his eyes, and I use every ounce of self-control not to flinch. “Well, since neither Stella nor I can attest to that, we call bullshit.”
I laugh and move out of my brother’s hold. I can attest to it, but I sure as hell won’t. “Let’s have pizza and watch the movie before I no longer have an appetite,” I suggest.
We eat, laughing and talking about the last group Jack took out in the woods. The entire point is team building and survival skills, but most of the time, we hear more about how miserable everyone was. Jack had a cushy job as an accountant for one of North Carolina’s biggest firms. He was able to work remotely and made a killing.
Then, one day, he was just done. He left the company and started this venture.
He’s done well, but it still doesn’t make sense to me.
Amelia is curled up against my side as the movie plays. I hear her soft snore and smile, pushing her sandy blonde hair off her face.
“She’s out,” I tell Gray.
His smile is automatic as he sees his daughter. “She always falls asleep during the movie.”
I kiss the top of her head. “And I love that she usually does it while I hold her.”
While I have always been somewhat of a mother figure to Amelia, I’ve been extremely careful not to let myself be more than her aunt. I love her immensely, but it would be incredibly unfair to both of us to consider her a replacement to the daughter I gave up. Amelia isn’t mine. She’s Grayson’s, and I’m just lucky enough to be here for her.
He gets up, lifting Amelia to his chest. “I’m going to put her to bed.”
Leaving Jack and I alone.
What is wrong with me? Seriously. Since the one night we slept together, nothing has ever been romantic between us. I’ve seen him a million times, and we’ve talked and hung out, and yet, I still feel this way. It’s absolutely fucking sad, that’s what it is.
I’m that sad, stupid girl who loves a guy who will never love her back.
“So, how is work?” he asks after a minute.
“Good. Busy, but good.”
He nods. “How is Jessica w
orking out there? I know she just started the other week, right?”
I settle back against the couch. “Jessica is amazing. She picked everything up really quickly and has already made some great changes to the way we’re running the front office. The fact that Grayson is so clearly in love with her still makes it a little more enjoyable as well.”
Jack chuckles. “You didn’t see them at the beach house.”
“Them and that damn house.”
“Seriously, it’s magical for them,” he agrees.
I’ve always known my brother’s heart belonged to Jess, and when she left, he took it hard. He closed himself off for a bit and then allowed his pain to blind him to Yvonne’s bullshit. I never thought they were good together, but trying to tell Grayson something he doesn’t want to hear is like talking to a brick wall. I’ve learned it’s best not to even try.
A weird lull falls between us, and the words tumble from my lips before I can stop them.
“I got a letter from Misty today.” Damn it. I should not have said it.
His eyes widen. “Stella . . .”
I shake my head quickly. “I know . . . I . . . I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. Please.”
Jack rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not that I don’t—”
“Jack, stop. I know where you stand, and I was being stupid. Please, let’s drop it.”
After we had given Kinsley over and I had finally stopped crying in his arms, we made promises. We both made our decisions, and Jack wanted to move on. He needed to be able to go forward with his life, putting this behind him. He said he couldn’t look Grayson in the eyes, lie to him day in and day out, if he had any relationship with Kinsley.
I chose a half-in model that Misty seemed okay with. I talk to Misty every six months. Sometimes, it’s a letter, and other times, it’s a phone call from her, but I’ve never once brought it up to Jack. I have no idea why I did now.
An awkward and painful silence falls around us, and I know that Grayson will sense it. I do my best to shove it down and smile at him to avoid questions neither of us want to answer. The one thing the two of us have become exceedingly good at is pretending.
At least I have.
“Are you coming to the charity dinner this week?” I ask, needing to break this tension.
“I’m not sure.”
I nod. “My mother went all out this time.”
“Doesn’t she always?” he asks with the classic Jack smile in place.
“She does.”
Jack turns to me, his elbows resting on his knees, wringing his hands. I can’t remember the last time I saw him so nervous. “Stella . . . I need to—”
Grayson enters, breaking off whatever Jack was about to say. I resist the urge to take a pillow and throw it at my brother to make him leave. Damn him and his horrible timing.
“Am I interrupting something?”
I smile, leaning back against the couch. “No,” I scoff.
He looks to us. “You just look serious.”
Jack’s voice is controlled and even. “We were talking about you and Jessica. You know the fact that you’re both in love with each other and won’t admit it.”
Oh, the irony in that statement is comical.
Grayson sits on the couch, looking a little lost. “I wish I could deny it, but I can’t. I love her, want her, and yet, I know I can’t have her.”
Jack and I look at each other, and my heart aches. Then his voice breaks the very small part of my heart that was still living. “I know the feeling, but it’s best not to let yourself hope.”
Chapter 3
Jack
Stella Parkerson is off fucking limits.
I say it for the one-hundred-millionth time. She’s not for me. Never has been and never will be. The night we made love was the only time I was ever stupid enough to think I could walk in her light.
The darkness is where I belong.
It’s been twelve years since Kinsley was born, and I’ve done a pretty good job of pretending it never happened. I think about her randomly, but I force it away before I can ever wonder.
But now, Stella spoke our daughter’s name into the murky water of the present, and I’m drowning from it.
“Well, you look worse than I feel,” Danny, the bartender, says as he puts a beer in front of me.
“I’m fine.”
He laughs once. “Yeah, convincing.”
I lift the bottle, taking a long pull, letting the liquid slide down my throat. How the hell did I get here again? I have been fine. Doing just fine ignoring the way Stella walks, the sound of her voice, the way her breathing reminds me of a night long ago. It’s been . . . fine.
And now it’s not.
“Keep these coming,” I tell Danny.
He nods once and leaves to help someone else.
I reach into my pocket, touching the sealed letter I got two weeks after Kinsley was born.
I have never been tempted to open it until now.
No. I’m not doing it.
There is no point. Reading it won’t change anything, and neither would talking to Misty and Samuel. They are her parents, not us.
Someone sits beside me, but I don’t need to look to know who it is.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Delia, Jessica’s best friend and also one of mine.
“I could ask you the same.”
I turn my head slightly. “Bad day.”
She waves her hand to Danny and he brings her over a vodka and cranberry. She turns to me, lifting the glass. “To bad days.”
“Are you sure we should toast to that?”
Delia shrugs. “Might as well. They happen anyway.”
“That they do.”
We both take a drink and then she turns her chair to me. “What’s got you coming two towns over for a beer?”
Because drinking anywhere in Willow Creek Valley means I may run into Stella. And I do not need to run into Stella.
“Just needed a change of scenery.”
“I see.”
“You do?”
She takes a sip and then smiles sadly. “Well, I know that look.”
“What look?” I ask with a bit of ice in my voice.
“The one that says it isn’t about scenery at all and all about trying not to care about someone you can’t stop caring about.”
Delia is the only person who ever alluded to thinking something happened between Stella and me. Even then, it took her over a decade to hint at it. We were walking, giving Grayson and Jessica some alone time to work out their shit, and I mentioned the color of the sky being like Stella’s eyes.
One stupid slipup, and it seems Delia caught it.
“You’re talking about Josh?”
“Please, my love for that man isn’t a secret. I’ve just gotten good at pretending otherwise. It helps with not feeling like a total idiot.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “What I’m wondering is how long you’ve maybe had feelings for someone else.”
I shake my head, staring at my beer. “I don’t have feelings for anyone. You know that.”
I can feel her assessing each word and debating if she’s going to call me out. Admitting it will never happen. That would be the dumbest thing I can do. The only reason that I’m still breathing is because Grayson has no idea I’ve ever looked at Stella in that way.
He’s my best friend—a brother more than anything—and I betrayed him once. I’ll never do it again.
Not because everyone knows you don’t fuck your best friend’s sister but because our actions broke Stella and me and we don’t need Grayson doing more damage.
Delia releases a long sigh. “I guess I thought differently.”
This mood has to stop. I can’t walk around Willow Creek with my head all messed up. I need to get back to being the fun guy. Being the character who laughs, doesn’t let shit bother him, and is a take-it-on-the-chin kind of friend. I’m who people come to for a laugh.
“What brings you here?” I ask her, chang
ing the topic.
“I got stood up.”
“Oh?”
She laughs. “It happens more than I care to admit.”
“I’d never stand you up,” I tell her honestly. Delia is beautiful. She’s smart, has a great sense of humor, and would do anything for those she loves.
“Aww, be still my heart. However, here we both sit, drinking in a bar that smells like piss and beer.”
“I’m not sure it’s piss, I think it’s the beer that’s spilled so much.”
Delia scrunches her nose. “Either way, it’s gross.”
“It is.”
Delia and I have always had an easy friendship. It was nice being friends with a girl who didn’t want anything more than just that. She never lusted after me and while she was incredibly attractive, the feelings never grew to more. We’ve been able to share secrets, well, some of them, and never have to worry. I could tell her about what has brought me so low. At least I could confide a part of it.
But I won’t.
A secret is only that when it’s only yours.
No one knows how I feel about Stella.
Not a soul alive has a clue that I lust for, dream about, or crave the girl who I should never again touch.
And that’s how it has to stay.
“You can be my date tonight,” I offer.
She grins. “You always were a gentleman.”
“Is that what they say?”
“No, they say you’re an idiot.”
I laugh, the first real one in three days. “They’re not wrong.”
“Jack . . .”
“Yes?”
The emotions filter across her face as she struggles with her thoughts. “Is . . . are you . . . ugh, I don’t know why I’m hesitating to ask you, but here it is . . . is there something with you and Winnie?”
Now I’m stunned. “Winnie? As in Jess’s little sister?”
She raises a brow. “Do you know another Winnie?”
I shift in my seat. “No, and to answer your question, also no. I don’t have feelings for Winnie. She’s . . .”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, I mean, I guess she is.”
“Well, she’s single, and you’re single.”
Wait, is she trying to set me up with Winnie Walker? “Deals, are you serious right now?”
Could Have Been Us Page 2
