by Kait Nolan
~*~
Corinne managed to pull it together by the time she got home. She knew better than to show weakness. Her mother would pounce on it, and right now, Corinne couldn’t handle that. She couldn’t take anything else. But Marianne wasn’t up. With pitiful gratitude for the reprieve, Corinne made it up the steps and into the privacy of her room before the tears started in earnest.
She took care with the dress. After a trip to the cleaners, it would be going back to Babette at Brides and Belles. She considered having a shower and curling up in her robe, but that only reminded her of the gift she’d walked away from and made her cry harder. A text came in as she slipped straight into pajamas.
Tucker: At least let me know you made it home okay.
God. She’d just broken up with him and he was still That Guy.
Corinne thumbed back a one word reply: Home.
She fell to the bed, pressing her face into the pillow. Makeup would stain the pillowcase, but she didn’t care right now. Not when her heart was cracking right in two. But she deserved the pain—all of it and more—for having ever put Whitney in a position to fall into this kind of life. She’d broken her best friend. Destroyed Whitney’s self worth as her own self worth had been eroded over years. And for what? A false popularity in high school? The approval she’d never won from her parents?
Rolling over, she tugged open her nightstand drawer and pulled out the pencil box. Drawing herself up, she flipped open the metal lid and removed the stack of notes, neatly bound in thin blue ribbon. Six months’ worth of inspirational quotes and personalized messages scrawled out on 3x5 index cards small enough to fit through the vent in her locker. She’d read them so often over her senior year and afterward, she’d had them memorized at one point. After finding out Tucker had been the one to send them, she’d unearthed them again, rereading them with that knowledge to see if there’d been any clue.
She’d never have seen it in high school. She hadn’t known him then, hadn’t understood him. But God, he’d understood her. Rereading them now, Corinne’s heart bled a little more with every card. She wasn’t worth his good opinion. Not then. Not now. Breaking things off was the only logical choice. The only decent choice.
Tucker would want an explanation. He deserved one. But she simply couldn’t cope with seeing his view of her change, couldn’t handle him recognizing that the version of her he saw was a lie. That she really was the mean girl. He deserved someone nice. Someone as sweet and solid and wonderful as he was. Corinne wasn’t that girl. She was saving them both before they got in any deeper.
She’d considered staying. Of taking the gift he’d offered her. Giving them both a last goodbye. But she didn’t deserve to be pampered, didn’t deserve to relax. And if she’d made love with him again, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to walk away. Even if she had, it would’ve hurt him more because he wouldn’t have known the night for the goodbye it would have been. No, it was better she left at the start.
Maybe someday she’d actually believe it.
“Well, you screwed things up with him, didn’t you?”
Corinne lifted her tear-streaked face to find her mother in the doorway. She hadn’t heard the door inch open over her tears.
Marianne evidently interpreted her silence as agreement. She stepped inside with a sigh. “You can’t get anything right, can you?” She shook her head in that oh-so-familiar way conveying pity and disappointment.
Raw and wounded, the tenuous tether on her temper snapped. “Nothing is ever good enough for you.”
“I just want what’s best for you.”
Corinne gave a bitter laugh. “Bullshit. Nothing is ever good enough. Not with me. Not with Dad. Your expectations drove him away. He’s happy now. Did you know that? Do you even know what that is? You’ve never, ever been satisfied with anything in your life.”
Her mother’s mouth thinned. “We’re not talking about me. You’re the one who let a prize like Tucker McGee get away.”
“Tucker isn’t a prize. He isn’t some kind of trophy. He’s a good person. A good man. And I let him go because I don’t deserve him, because he sure as hell deserves someone better than me.”
Marianne gaped at her. “Is that really what you think?”
“What was I supposed to think, Mom? I tried my hardest. I was a horrible person, clawing my way to be what I thought you wanted. And it was never enough for you.”
“That’s not true. I—”
“Don’t,” Corinne snapped. She didn’t want to hear her mothers’ denials. It was never enough and it never would be enough. The realization trickled through her, making her straighten her spine and square her shoulders as she slid off the bed and stalked toward her mother. “Well I’m done doing anything for you. I only live my life for one person now. Kurt. And I’m going to do everything in my power to be supportive of him, as you never were of me.”
“How can you say I wasn’t supportive? I’ve put a roof over your head, haven’t I? I’ve helped with the boy.”
“Yes. Yes you have, and I’ve thanked you for that until I’m blue in the face, though you always make me feel like that’s never enough either. But I’m not an impressionable teenage girl anymore, Mom. I’m not going to live my life by your principles. Because I don’t believe people are tools to be used just to get ahead. And I’m ashamed of everything I ever did to support that. I’ll be raising my son better. And I’ll be doing it somewhere else as soon as I can scrape together first and last months’ rent and a nursing job.”
“You’re leaving town?” Was that a thread of panic in her mother’s voice?
Corinne hadn’t actually meant leaving Wishful, only this house. But maybe she should leave town. Could she really stay here where she’d inevitably run into Tucker every week? Could she really serve him at the diner and pretend like everything was fine? Could she watch him eventually find someone else, fall in love, and make a life? After everything she’d been through, everything she’d survived, Corinne was pretty sure that would break her for good.
“I’ll start applying for jobs as soon as I finish my test on Monday. Now get out. I need to go to bed.”
Chapter 15
Tucker was not a man accustomed to sitting around doing nothing. Yet for two days, he’d done exactly that. Well, not nothing. He’d reviewed every moment of the past few weeks with Corinne, analyzing and rehashing and wondering what he was missing. Other than confirming she’d gotten home okay, she wasn’t answering his texts or calls.
He wanted an explanation. Needed one. Because this whole silent treatment was far too redolent of his ex-wife. Except Laura hadn’t been in tears when she walked out of his life. The fact that those tears made him feel better made him a sick son of a bitch. But surely tears meant she hadn’t wanted to walk, right? She hadn’t wanted to walk that day at Hope Springs. That meant something else was at play. There had to be because Tucker couldn’t think of a damned thing he’d done wrong. Then again, he hadn’t been able to think of a thing he’d done wrong in his marriage either and Laura had still left him.
The only thing stopping him from going over to Corinne’s house and banging on the door was that he didn’t want to scare Kurt, and he didn’t want to upset Corinne any more than she already was before her test. Which meant, for another twenty-four hours, his hands were tied. He’d been filling them with shots of Jameson.
The knock on his apartment door was far too brisk and business-like to be Corinne. Tucker dragged himself from the sofa and opened the door. Brody, Cam, and Myles spilled inside, each carrying some form of alcohol.
“What do you want?”
“After a breakup, it is our God-given duty to commiserate and attempt to cheer you up. Failing that, we’re here to help you get shit-faced.” Brody took a look at the glass in his hand. “Guess you already got started on that portion of the program.”
Deliberately, Tucker took a swallow of whiskey. “We didn’t break up.”
His friends exchanged a look.
“So you just had a fight?” Cam asked.
Tucker didn’t know what the hell they’d had because she hadn’t told him jack shit except it was over. “Things are up in the air, at the moment.” He had to believe that. Had to believe that after the test, he could corner her, sit her down, and get to the bottom of what exactly had upset her. “How did you know something was up?”
“Y’all didn’t leave together after the performance the other night. People noticed.” Brody shrugged.
Perfect. People were already gossiping about them and the demise of their relationship. Which had to be how these knuckleheads had heard because Tucker hadn’t breathed a word to anyone.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are people saying?”
Another long pause and exchange of significant looks.
“What. Are. They. Saying?” he demanded.
“A bunch of stupid speculation,” Cam hedged, ever the local politician.
“That you finally wised up and cut your losses,” Brody said flatly.
Tucker swore. “I did nothing of the kind. She’s the one who walked out.”
Myles clapped him on the shoulder. “Brother, she was seen practically running from the hotel in tears, and the grand gesture I foolishly talked you into went to waste. I’m sorry about that, by the way. If y’all didn’t break up, what was she so upset about?”
“I don’t know.” The admission stung. “We were fine after our performance. Then she went off with a friend while I was getting everything arranged.”
“She was gone a while, wasn’t she? Missed Cam and Tyler’s performance,” Myles noted.
“Yeah. I didn’t ask where she went. I assumed she was visiting. But when she came back, she was...off somehow. I thought she’d just gotten tense worrying about taking more time away from studying.” Maybe that was an avenue to explore. Tracking down Malika and finding out exactly what they’d talked about. Except he didn’t know her last name, and he was pretty sure if the other woman thought he’d hurt Corinne, she’d be happy to castrate him.
“What exactly did she say?” Cam asked.
“Nothing. Just that she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do us anymore.”
Again with the looks.
“That sounds like a breakup to me,” Brody said carefully.
“It’s not,” Tucker insisted. “She’s just upset.” About something. “She always pulls back when she’s upset.”
“What’s she got to be upset about?” Myles asked.
“I don’t fucking know!” Tucker slapped the low ball glass on the counter and shoved both hands through his hair.
“There has to be something. Women always have a reason, even if it doesn’t make sense to us,” Myles reasoned.
No, they didn’t. Laura hadn’t had a reason. At least not one she’d ever told him.
“Look, have you considered maybe this is for the best? I mean, you two are awfully different,” Brody said.
“Because same worked out so well for me the first time?” Tucker reached for the whiskey again.
“You and Laura wanted different things,” Cam said. “You said it was easy as that.”
“I lied.”
They stared at him.
Tucker tipped the bottle to splash another two fingers of amber liquid into the glass. “The divorce wasn’t a mutual decision. Laura left me. For her high school sweetheart back in California. No explanation. Not a goddamned word. She had divorce papers delivered to the house and didn’t even come home to pack up her things. Hired a service.”
“Dude,” Myles said, and the word held a wealth of sympathy that made Tucker’s shoulders hunch.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Brody asked.
Because I’m the guy not worth fighting for. The one women can simply walk away from. His hands clenched around the glass.
“Because it was fucking humiliating. We were supposed to be this perfect couple. On paper it all added up. In reality, we made no fucking sense at all. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want the questions or looks of pity. I just wanted to move on.” And he hadn’t managed that. Not until Corinne.
“So, what? You decided to try someone who was her polar opposite in almost every way?” Brody asked.
“It wasn’t like that. Isn’t,” he corrected.
“Still, I’d think taking on an insta-family would be a pretty big—”
Brody didn’t manage to finish the sentence before Tucker propelled him into the wall. “I love that kid and I love her. I’d be a lucky bastard if I got to make them my family.”
Brody made no move to defend himself, instead staring into Tucker’s face, as if deciding exactly how serious he was. “I didn’t know you were in love with her.”
Tucker released him and picked up the glass again. “Neither did I until she walked away and ripped my heart out of my chest.”
They fell to silence.
“Well,” Myles said, finally, “commiserating and cheering up are an epic fail. Getting shitfaced is the only option left. Pull out some more glasses and somebody order pizza.”
~*~
“Praise Jesus, it’s over!” Malika announced as they burst out of the testing center. “This calls for a celebration.”
Celebrating was the absolute last thing Corinne wanted to do. The certainty that she’d failed the NCLEX settled into her bones like an ache. She couldn’t afford to waste the $200 testing fee, especially not now that she’d started a ticking time clock on getting out of her mother’s house. But was it really any surprise? She’d barely slept since Friday night, barely eaten. All she could think about was Whitney. Exactly like your mother. And when it wasn’t Whitney’s recriminations ringing in her ears, it was Tucker and the look of utter betrayal on his face.
“I’m not much in the mood for ice cream, Mal.”
“Well, if not ice cream, how about drinks? It’s five o’clock somewhere.”
The temptation to drown all this heartache in alcohol was too great to follow through on. The only thing she hadn’t irreparably screwed up yet was her son. She couldn’t afford to crawl into a bottle. She might not crawl back out.
“I don’t feel like I have anything to celebrate.”
“Oh now, are you gonna have your panties all in a wad until you actually get the results back?”
“Probably.” Meanwhile, she needed to pick up some extra shifts. First and last months’ rent and all the utility deposits on a little place for her and Kurt wouldn’t be cheap. And she’d need another $200 to take the test again. Plus moving expenses because having failed the exam meant she wouldn’t be licensed soon enough to be considered for the job at Wilton Memorial, despite the fact that her interview was tomorrow. Not that she believed they’d seriously look at her as a contender.
Malika swung an arm around her. “Okay, you officially need to go spend some time with your man to unwind. You’re too tense.”
“That’s not an option,” Corinne managed. The tears wanted to start up again. She’d barely managed to stop sobbing long enough to take the damned test.
“Why? Is he working late?”
“He’s not mine anymore.”
Malika stopped in her tracks halfway across the parking lot. “What? What happened?” The younger woman’s eyes glinted dangerously.
“I broke up with him.”
“You did what? Why? And aren’t you two still in the competition?”
Yeah, they were. She hadn’t really given it a lot of thought at the time. Both the final performances were freestyle, so Tucker and Tyler would both be choreographing something from scratch. Unless she wanted to bail and let Mama Pearl, the ticketholders, and all the women out at the shelter down, she’d have to face him and soon. They wouldn’t win. There was simply no way they’d be able to maintain that chemistry on the floor after what she’d done. But she didn’t want to add to her list of failures.
“Did he do something?” Malika demanded.
“No.” Corinne started walking again.
“Then why?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Tucker would ask the same question. She owed him some kind of answer, but what could she say that he’d accept?
“Corinne.” The deep male voice carried across the last few rows of cars.
Her heart leapt into her throat as a tall figure straightened from beside her Toyota. But it wasn’t Tucker. It was Brody.
She hesitated, but there was no sense in trying to avoid him. She had to face the music sometime, and if she had to start with him, so be it. “What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to talk to you.”
“You came all the way to Tupelo to talk to me?” It took a special level of pissed off to follow her ninety miles from Wishful to rip her a new one. At least if he did it here, it wouldn’t be as bad as making a scene at home where everyone could hear.
Brody nodded. “Buy you a cup of coffee?”
Corinne frowned. Why would he buy her coffee? “All right.”
He jerked his head. “My truck’s over here.”
Malika put a hand on Corinne’s arm. “You don’t have to go with him.”
Brody might be angry with her, but she knew without a doubt he wouldn’t actually hurt her. Corinne squeezed Malika’s hand. “It’s fine. Brody and I go way back.” She turned back to him. “But I’ll drive myself, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I’m stayin’ in town. You call me if you need me,” Malika said.
“Thank you, but it’s fine,” Corinne repeated. If you say something often enough, you start to believe it, right?
She followed him to a nearby Starbucks. Neither of them said a word as they stood in line. Taking their coffees—plain black for both of them—they settled at a table in a back corner, away from the few patrons scattered through the place. Corinne wrapped her hands around the cup, trying to find some comfort in the heat between her palms.
“I don’t know what your deal is. I don’t know why you decided to break things off with Tucker, and I don’t need to know. That isn’t my business. But you hurt him, and that is my business.”
