All My Life

by Prescott Lane

  “It just means so much to me to have them both, you know?”

  I nod, feeling my throat closing up.

  “I want it to last forever.”

  This time I nod and fake a smile, having lost my voice.

  She glances back out at them again. Garrett with his hands in his pockets, looking handsome as ever, and Sheena smiling up at him. “You think I’m being silly, don’t you?”

  This time I’m forced to answer. “I don’t think it’s silly to want your parents together.”

  “The Fourth of July is a special day for my parents. Mom wrote me these letters every year on my birthday. She probably forgot she wrote about that.”

  Special day? I really hope she’s not referring to what I think she’s referring to. I could’ve lived my whole life without that little piece of information.

  “Anyway, I was thinking I’m going to suggest that after the dedication, Mom, Dad, and I all go to dinner, then I’m going to have Penny call me with some fake emergency. Mom and Dad will be left alone together. Maybe that will help them remember how they felt about each other. Do you think that might work?”

  I consider that for a moment—if your Dad wasn’t sleeping with me, then maybe so? Somehow my brain filters that into something socially acceptable. “Anything’s possible.”

  “I really hope it happens,” she says, almost bouncing toward the door. “I don’t think anything could be better.”

  My heart heavy, I walk to the front window of the diner, watching Mia join Garrett and Sheena under the gazebo—smiling—the perfect little family. Mia hands him the coffee I made.

  I watch.

  And as always, I understand.

  I understand what Sheena was ranting about the other day. Loving and leaving someone versus loving them and staying.

  I’ve stayed. All these years, I’ve loved them and stayed.

  My head realizes what I have to do before my heart. My head yells at my heart. You’re a muscle, you should be stronger than this. I’ve been driven by my heart my whole life, but my heart has a weakness—Garrett and Mia. Still, even my heart knows this is the right thing to do. It’s time to bow out gracefully.

  I love them so much, I need to leave.

  I need to walk away and give them a chance. A chance to be a family, the family Mia wants more than anything. I’m standing in the way of that.

  Watching them, they look perfect together, like that’s the way it should’ve always been. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Mia, including giving up her father.

  I wait for Garrett to look toward the diner, to look toward me. How many other times in my life have I waited for that same thing? Waited for him to finally look my way?

  It finally happened. I thought we’d finally have a life together. Instead, we’ve had just a few stolen moments. I guess that’s all there will be. That will have to be enough.

  Waiting at the window, he doesn’t look my way. This is the part where I have to walk away. A tear rolling down my cheek, I turn from the window.

  Fuck you, Sheena, for being right—loving someone and leaving is the hardest thing I’ll ever do.

  *

  I’ve never had to fake an orgasm with Garrett. I’ve faked a lot with him over the years. Faked smiles. Faked not loving him. Faked only being his friend. So faking not wanting to be with him should be easy. I’m going to miss these times with him. With Mia spending time with Sheena, we’ve had more spare time together than I thought we would.

  Naked in bed, his fingers lightly roam my body. It’s time to go. I know that’s what’s coming. I know by the path his fingers draw on my body. Down my thigh, then back up my hips, my waist, my breast, all the way up my neck until he reaches my chin, turns my face up to him, and whispers, “We need to get up.”

  Another long, slow, deep kiss, and he’s out of bed, reaching for his clothes. I do the same, knowing I need to be out of here before Mia gets home.

  I hear his zipper go up. He’ll be ready to walk me out in a few seconds.

  Five

  Four

  Three

  Two

  One

  Time to let him go.

  “I need more than this, Garrett,” I say, fastening the last of the buttons on my shirt. His blue eyes find mine. I’m not sure of the emotion behind them.

  “I know,” he says. “I’m going to talk to Mia tonight and tell . . .”

  Crap, now he finally decides to tell her? “No,” I state firmly.

  “You don’t want me to tell her?”

  “I don’t think there’s anything to tell her,” I say, motioning between us. “I need more than you can give.”

  “Where’s this coming from?” he asks, his voice measured.

  “I can’t just keep waiting around for . . .”

  “I’m telling Mia tonight.”

  “Then what?” I ask. “I’m thirty-three years old. I want a family, kids. My mom was right. I’ve been waiting on you my whole life, and if I don’t get out now, I could spend the rest of my life waiting for you.”

  “This doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Ten minutes ago, I was balls deep inside you.”

  I don’t tell him that I wanted one more time with him. One last time to memorize the way it feels to have him make love to me.

  Cocking my chin, I say, “Then you hop up, ushering me out the door. As usual.”

  “You know you can’t stay,” he says, sounding so rational. Sometimes I hate it when men are so sensible. “This whole time, you said you understood I needed some time for Mia . . .”

  “That’s the problem. It’s always Garrett and Mia, and screw everyone else. Well, I’m here. I’ve always been here. You take that for granted. It stops right now.”

  “Devlyn,” he says, reaching out for me, but I move past him, walking to the front door of his house. “I’m going to tell her.”

  “It’s too late,” I say.

  “No, it’s not,” he shouts. “Does this have something to do with Sheena?”

  Irritated he’d even bring her into this, I snap, “No.”

  He draws a deep breath, like a fighter preparing to go twelve rounds. It’s funny. Only when I’m ending things with him do I see how ready he is to fight for me.

  “Let’s talk,” he says. “We can work this out.” I move to open the door. “Wait!”

  “That’s the problem,” I state calmly, though it takes everything in me. “I’ve been waiting. I waited too long. Not again. Not anymore.”

  He’s just staring at me. He’s never told me he loved me. Now I’ll never hear those words from him.

  “You want this over?” he asks. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “I hope we can still be friends.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me with that?”

  “I just thought once some time passed, we could go back . . .”

  “Fuck that,” he barks. “I’m not letting you do this. I have no idea where any of this is coming from!”

  “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind,” I say, feeling my eyes well up. “This is what’s best.”

  As I turn to walk away, he captures my hand. Our eyes meet, and before I know what’s happening, I’m wrapped in his arms. I try to let go, but he only holds me tighter. Running my fingers through his hair, I say, “I’m sorry.” Then I take a deep breath and whisper, “I love you.”

  He pulls back slightly to look in my eyes. I’m sure he hates that I said it first. He’s macho that way. It’s probably confusing the hell out of him to hear me say that right at this moment, when I’m leaving, but I had to tell him, at least once in my life.

  Before he can respond, I take off, hurrying out of his yard. “Devlyn,” he calls out. I forgot how fast he is, quickly capturing me by my waist. The only thing that saves me is the sound of a car pulling in front of his house. Sheena and Mia are home from shopping.

  Garrett and I both glance at the car then back to each other. “I know,” I say. “Now’s not a good t
ime. That’s the thing with us, Garrett. It’s never a good time, and I can’t keep waiting. I won’t anymore.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  GARRETT

  I need more.

  Friends.

  I’m sorry.

  I’ve heard it all before from other women, but I really thought Devlyn was different, that she understood.

  “What was Devlyn doing here before?” Mia asks, pulling out a new purse Sheena bought her.

  “Um,” I say, my brain spinning, unable to come up with a good lie. “The purse is nice.”

  Her forehead wrinkles up. “Daddy, you okay?”

  “Fine,” I say. “Just tired. Been working long hours to get the pavilion done.”

  “Okay,” she says, placing the purse down. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “What?”

  “Earlier,” she says. “You said there was something important you wanted to talk to me about.”

  “Oh, nothing,” I say. “It was nothing.”

  If it was nothing, then why in the hell do I feel like this? She left me. Women have left before, and I never gave them another thought, but this feels different. It feels worse than when Sheena left.

  “Oh good, because I wanted to ask you about something. I think Mom really wants to come to the dedication at the Falls. Is it okay with you?”

  “Sure,” I say, shrugging.

  Who the fuck cares, really? There’s only one person I want to be there, and I doubt she’s going to show.

  *

  Guys are in a tough position when it comes to being dumped. On the one hand, you don’t want to be a pussy and go crawling and begging for your woman to take you back. On the other hand, you want to fight for your lady. So you’re caught between a pussy and a hard place.

  How many phone calls does it take for you to go from a man who wants his woman to being whipped? How many visits does it take before you go from noble to stalker? How many flowers do you send before you go from sweet to lunatic? The answers aren’t easy. It’s tough terrain for us men.

  Most importantly, I don’t want to hurt Devlyn anymore. I really had no idea how bad she was hurting. I thought I was doing a good job at shielding her, but she fooled me. I shouldn’t be surprised. She fooled me my whole life. I tell myself she needs some space, but giving her that feels like giving up, and I’m not about to do that. My heart won’t let me.

  She loves me.

  She left.

  She’s not the first woman to say she loved me and walk out the door.

  This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. This is why I never dated women in Eden Valley before. I should’ve known better than to get involved in the first place. Mia’s little dating game is to blame. It opened the door, and I doubt it’s going to be easy to lock it up again.

  I peek in on Mia, who’s still sound asleep. We aren’t going to Biscuit Girl this morning or tomorrow morning or the one after that. Guess I better learn how to make myself a decent cup of coffee.

  I’m not sure how I’m going to explain not going to Mia, although she’s so consumed with Sheena that it’s possible she won’t even notice. Without breakfast, without coffee, I head toward the Falls. Work calls. Work doesn’t care if you just got your ass handed to you, you still have to show up. That’s what I’ve always done. Show up. People are counting on me.

  I’m out the door so early this morning my dad isn’t even up. That’s a first. On instinct, I start walking toward town square. Mia and I usually walk that way. I’m a few blocks from my house before I realize I’ve even done it, but I see I’m walking toward the diner, toward Devlyn. I’ve been walking to her my whole life without even realizing it.

  The only saving grace in this whole mess is that not many people know about Devlyn and me, so there won’t be questions from nosy neighbors, people taking sides. No billboards erected touting Team Devlyn. For sure, everyone would be on her side, although I don’t have a damn clue what I did wrong.

  That’s not entirely true. I could’ve talked to Mia sooner. But you know what? Devlyn could’ve stayed a bit longer, and talked to me, too. She could’ve given me a chance to fix it. She obviously just wanted out. Mia was just the excuse.

  I need to forget Devlyn Drake.

  Common ways to forget about a woman. Number one: drink until you forget or just don’t care anymore. Number two: screw another woman. Number three: do something for revenge, like bang their best friend, make sure she sees you with someone else, fuck a woman she hates, or the best yet—fuck her one more time, then treat her like shit afterwards.

  My legs stop moving before my eyes even focus in on her. Devlyn’s down the sidewalk from me, and like me, she’s frozen still. How can I forget her when she’s so close? Although I doubt distance would even work. I don’t want to drink myself into oblivion to forget. I don’t want to hate fuck her or anyone else. I don’t want to seek revenge. I don’t want her to hurt.

  She said she loves me. I hate she said it first.

  And I don’t get it. Why bother to tell someone you love them if you are just going to leave? I never thought Devlyn and Sheena had anything in common, but I guess they do. They leave the people they claim to love.

  If that’s love, then I should be thanking my lucky stars that she broke it off. Seeing her standing there in her pink tutu and light blue Butter my biscuits t-shirt, thankful is not what I’m feeling.

  This isn’t over.

  She can say it is, but I know her. I know her better than anyone. I know her eyes, her lips, her sounds, the tremors of her body when she’s coming. I know how she tastes, smells, and just where to kiss her to soak her panties.

  Mostly importantly, I know her heart. She loves me, and Devlyn doesn’t walk away from the people she loves. I know that firsthand. When she broke up with Scott, she cried, but she was fine. The look on her face right now is anything but fine. Devlyn usually glows. There’s a spark about her, but even her tutu is droopy today.

  As I walk toward her, she cocks her chin up like she wants a fight. I’m not going to give her what she wants. Any anger I felt melted away as soon as I saw her. Stopping in front of her, I ask, “Are you alright?”

  Her lips pressed tightly together, she nods. You’re going to have to lie better than that, baby, if you want me to believe you.

  “You?” she asks.

  “Not even close,” I say.

  “This is for the best,” she whispers.

  “Not for me,” I say. “And from the looks of things, not for you, either. So who exactly is this the best for?”

  “I have to go,” she says, moving to unlock the door to the diner.

  “You are forgetting something,” I say, leaning over her shoulder and whispering in her ear. “You forget I love you, too.” I hear her take a swift breath. She doesn’t look at me. I tilt her chin up to me slightly to catch her eyes. “There will never be a moment I don’t love you.”

  I hold her eyes for a minute, letting that sink in, letting her know she’s not getting rid of me easily, that this isn’t over. Some loves are never over. My mom and dad are the perfect example. Not even death could change the way my dad felt about my mom.

  I don’t know a lot about love, but one thing I do know for certain is that nothing will change my love for Devlyn.

  My love is not conditional. It’s not going to change with the winds. It’s hers.

  “I’m leaving town,” she says quietly. “I thought you should hear it from me.”

  When you tell a woman you love her, you’d think she’d say it back, you’d fall into a kiss or bed, or at the very least a hug—not get sent a change of address form. Fuck!

  “You can’t leave town,” I say. “You just broke up with me last night. You can’t have plans to leave town already.”

  “My mom mentioned an opportunity to open Biscuit Girl Two at the beach last time she was in town, and I’ve decided to do it. This place here practically runs itself, but I’ll be back periodically to check on things.
I leave in two days.”

  “Two days . . .”

  I stop myself. I know the reason for the quick exit. She knows if she hangs around, then I will win her back. She knows I won’t give up. Better, she thinks, to put a couple hundred miles between us.

  “Good luck with the dedication of the pavilion. I’m sure it’s going to be beautiful,” she says, reaching for the door to the diner. “Goodbye, Garrett.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  DEVLYN

  All I’ve done the past few days is go through the motions of life. Get up, get dressed, work, shower, then repeat. I smile when I’m supposed to. I laugh at all the right times, but it’s all a lie. Every smile is hiding a tear, every laugh is masking a sob. Still, this is the right thing to do, to give them a chance to be a family like Mia wants. If Garrett told her about us now, she’d probably end up resenting me anyway, seeing me as the reason why her parents never rekindled their relationship.

  The idea of opening a second location is a good distraction, just what I need at the moment. There are a lot of little details to consume my brain. My parents designed Biscuit Girl, and while I love most everything about it, it would be nice to build a place from the ground up. There are a few things I’d do differently. A perfect example is the bathrooms here. There’s only one. I’ve always hated that, and there’s not room to redesign.

  Flooring, ceiling tins, wainscoting, paint colors—there’s a thousand things to decide. Well, first I better make sure I like the bones of the new space. I’ve only seen pictures. The idea of designing my own kitchen from the ground up is appealing. Ovens, mixers, plates—I’m in my element. While everything will be new, I still want it to have a hometown, vintage feel. There will be no fancy soda machines like they have in places now, with the fancy touch screens where all the drinks come from the same nozzle. Who thought of that? Water comes out tasting like oranges, and orange soda comes out tasting like lime. It’s disgusting. I’ll have none of that in my new place.

  I’m going to miss Eden Valley, the people, the small-town vibe. There’s something special about being surrounded by familiar, friendly faces. Like today, the Fourth of July. Everyone is wearing red, white, or blue, or a combination of the three. All the shop owners have some sort of patriotic theme going. For example, I’ve got our country’s colors in my table flowers. Most every house is sporting an American flag, and later today, the whole town will gather together at the Falls for a potluck to dedicate the new pavilion. Things like that don’t happen other places.