Part of me wanted to laugh. The other part was too horrified to speak. Rhett jumped to his feet and jerked his legs into a pair of jeans. He jogged after her, shirtless and barefoot. Ten seconds later, I heard their raised voices from the sidewalk. I wrapped the sheet around my chest and dragged it to the window.
From Rhett’s apartment, I could see them standing beside the street. Freya gestured wildly, her face the color of a ripe tomato. I couldn’t hear their words, but their meaning was unmistakable. He raised his palms into the air, like he was at a loss. Freya stared at him then slapped him hard across the face. She fled across the street to her car. Tires squealed on the pavement as she pulled in front of an approaching truck. Rhett stood on the sidewalk, watching her drive away.
It took a minute for my brain to process my feelings on the current events. Rhett and I had just shared an amazing night, but he’d run after Freya and left me behind. How had she gotten in? She must have a key to his apartment. I’d watched him lock the door before we’d gone to bed last night. If she was doing his laundry, their relationship was more complicated than he’d let on. The realization formed a knot in the pit of my stomach. Panic welled in my chest. Had he been playing me all along? My instincts wanted to believe him, but my past experiences made me doubt my judgement. Maybe Jo was right. Maybe I couldn’t handle a relationship and all the complexities that came with them. I needed to get out of here and fast before I had another panic attack.
While I searched for my clothes, I heard the apartment door open and close. Rhett came into the bedroom. “Hey, where are you going?”
“I should leave,” I said, wiggling into my panties.
He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t let Freya ruin what’s been a great time.”
“No.” I shook my head slowly. “I’m already dysfunctional enough without adding your weirdness to the mix.”
“Bronte, please.” He put a hand on my arm. His fingers were warm and gentle. “Stay.”
“You know how I am. I need stability in my life. I don’t think you’re being honest with me or yourself.” I didn’t have the capability to bullshit or tiptoe around the elephant in the room. “I’m not sure what you’re doing here. With me.”
His hand dropped to his side. “I don’t understand.”
“You already have two women in your life. One of them is dead. One of them is your sister-in-law.” My fingers stumbled over the buttons of my blouse. “You don’t seem to have room for a third.”
His gaze dropped to the floor. I tried to ignore the pain in my chest. I had no desire to be caught in a complicated relationship with a man who didn’t know what he wanted in life. For the first time, I saw my future with clarity—a boyfriend, a nice job, a home of my own. I craved—make that deserved—all of those things. Rhett had made me realize how important they were to me.
“I told you that you’re smarter than me,” he murmured.
By this time, we’d traveled to the living room. I slipped into my shoes. Someone knocked on the door, making us both flinch. Rhett opened the door to Freya. My gaze collided with hers. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks damp.
“She’s still here,” she said. Disappointment showed in the downward turn of her mouth. “I was hoping we could talk—alone.”
“You’re right. We do need to talk,” Rhett said.
“I knew you’d come to your senses. I got to the end of the block and realized this was my fault. I’ve never told you how I feel.” Freya dropped a hand onto Rhett’s forearm. I bristled with jealousy. “I love you, Rhett.”
My heart dropped to the floor with a sickening smack. She loved him. What if he loved her back? Her confession made me realize just how much I cared for him. I wasn’t ready to give up on us. Not yet. What if it was too late?
“I had no idea,” Rhett replied.
“You can’t be that oblivious,” I said then bit my lower lip, realizing I’d spoken out loud. Again.
Rhett frowned at me but shifted his stance in my direction. “Freya, I wish you would have told me sooner. We could have resolved the issue before it got to this point.”
Triumph flashed in her eyes. “There really isn’t any reason to keep her, is there? I’m sure she has things to do.” She avoided my gaze, but the sickening smirk on her lips revealed her thoughts. She’d won.
“Well, um, I’ll see you around.” Dread tightened my guts. This was it. The end. I ducked my head and took a step toward the hall. I needed to get out of there before my humiliation became unbearable. Last night had been amazing, but I should have known it wasn’t real.
Rhett sidestepped, blocking my exit. “Hang on, Bronte. I want you to hear what I have to say.”
Something in his expression made me linger. A small kernel of hope budded in my chest. “Are you sure?”
He nodded and squeezed my hand. “This concerns you.”
“I don’t—” Freya said, but Rhett lifted a finger, stopping her mid-sentence.
“Freya, I’m going to need your key back,” he said. She sucked in a horrified breath. “You can’t keep barging in here, anytime you want, unannounced. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have been so dependent on you, and we should have set boundaries in the very beginning. I appreciate all the ways you’ve helped me since Amy died, but I think it’s time we both started to move on. You’ve spent too much of your life babysitting me when you should’ve been out in the world, dating and making friends.” Rhett put his arm around my waist, drawing me into his side. “And it’s time to put my life back together.” My arm and waist flushed with his body heat. “I’m going to start by asking Bronte to be my girlfriend.”
I didn’t hear the rest of what he said as blood thundered in my ears. His girlfriend? The strength ebbed from my knees. “Are you ready for that?”
“Sure.” He brushed my hair over my shoulder. His fingers lingered on the curve of my arm, his lips bowing into a smile. “If you’ll have me?”
“Yes.” I smiled back at him until Freya made a small noise of derision.
“What’s wrong with you, Rhett? This isn’t like you at all. She’s obviously got you under some kind of spell.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me.
“Absolutely,” he said. “I’m fucking enchanted.”
We stared at each other. My heart thrilled at the warmth in his gray-blue eyes.
“You can’t be serious.” Freya’s words echoed my thoughts. Was this really happening?
He directed his answer to me. “I’m completely serious. You’re one in a million, Bronte. You make me forget to be sad at night and happy to wake up in the morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way, and I owe it to you.” He traced a finger down the slope of my nose and tapped the tip. A huge, uncontrollable grin stretched my lips.
“How can you act like this? What would Amy say?” Freya’s face crumpled, her eyes glistening with tears. “Don’t you love her?”
“I will always love her,” Rhett said, his eyes still on mine. “She was my first love, but she’s gone, and I have to keep going.”
“You’re a bastard.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Amy would be devastated. You’re dropping her for a donut girl. It’s an insult to her memory.”
Anger flared in Rhett’s eyes. He drew up straight and squared his shoulders. Freya’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “You can be angry with me all you want, but not one word about Bronte. Do you understand? This is your last warning. I won’t tell you again.”
“Amy loved you so much,” Freya whispered. I heard the true meaning behind her words. She was in love with Rhett. My chest knotted with sympathy, and my animosity toward her dissipated. How long had she been standing by, watching him grieve, waiting for him to heal so she could tell him her feelings? She must be devastated to see him breeze past her and onto someone else, someone like me.
“No, she didn’t. Maybe in the beginning, but definitely not at the end.” Rhett shook his head.
<
br /> “Don’t talk like that. You were her world. If the situation was reversed, she would never have forgotten about you. Don’t try to make her the bad guy when she can’t defend herself.”
Rhett’s jaw tightened and a muscle twitched in his cheek. “Enough. I’m sick of hearing about how saintly Amy was. Do you know what the last words she said to me were before she died? She said she’d been having an affair with her boss for the past two years, and she wanted a divorce.” I felt a tremor run through his body. I smoothed a hand along his arm, hoping to provide comfort. “We were standing at the crosswalk. She turned and laughed and said she hated the sight of me. She said she’d been seeing her boss for two years, right under my nose, and that she couldn’t believe how stupid I was. I just stood there in shock. Two seconds later, she stepped off the curb without looking, and the bus hit her.”
“That’s not true,” Freya said. The color had drained from her face. She looked smaller, more fragile, and my heart ached for her. Her next words came out in a painful whisper. “I would have known. She would have told me.”
“It’s true. I have no reason to lie about it. I never told anyone because I didn’t want people to remember her that way. After a while, it was easier to pretend we’d never argued than to remember how it ended.” A sad smile tugged his mouth. My respect for him doubled. Even after her death, he’d gone out of his way to protect Amy’s memory and her loved ones’ feelings.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered and put my arms around his shoulders. He buried his face in my neck.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s in the past.”
“You’re just saying these horrible things because of her.” Freya pointed at me. “You’re lying to cover up the way you’re cheating on your wife. I noticed you quit wearing your wedding ring.”
“Freya.” Rhett straightened. “If you don’t believe me, you can read it in her journal. As for the wedding ring?” He exhaled before running a hand through his hair, making the ends stick out in a sexy mess. “If Amy had had her way, I would’ve taken it off a long time ago.”
“In the Catholic church, I believe the acceptable period of mourning for a spouse is one year and one day,” I said. “Although most wedding vows state that the marriage ends at death as in ‘until death do us part.’ Depending upon your religion and culture, you’ve probably met and/or exceeded the requirements. Are you Catholic? I never asked about your religion.”
One corner of Rhett’s mouth curled up while Freya’s eyes bulged. I bit my lower lip as I processed what I’d just said. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks.
“I’m Methodist,” Rhett said.
“That was insensitive. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He brushed my cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“It’s not okay,” Freya shouted. With shaking hands, she removed Rhett’s key from her keyring and tossed it on the floor. “Here’s your stupid key. I’m not going to stay here any longer and listen to you insult Amy like this.” She stomped out the door, pausing in the hallway. “When you come to your senses, call me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rhett
I didn’t call Freya, but I did have a courier deliver Amy’s journal to her apartment. I was surprised to find her at her desk on Monday morning. Red blotches covered her face, and her eyes were puffy like she’d been crying. I hated to see her that way but resolved to hold onto my newfound principles. Our confrontation had been unpleasant, but now that it was over, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
After Freya had left my apartment yesterday, Bronte and I had spent the afternoon together, walking around the city, holding hands and enjoying each other’s company. It was the best weekend I’d had in years. Now, facing Freya, I fought to curb the buoyancy in my step and the huge, stupid grin I’d been wearing all morning.
“Morning, Freya.” I stood in front of her desk and waited.
She pressed a stack of messages into my hand, gaze downturned. “You have a nine-thirty conference call, and Mrs. Seaforth wants to meet with you at eleven.”
“Thanks.” I flipped through the mass of phone calls and emails. “Did you transfer these to my computer?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
“No.” Her chin jutted stubbornly.
“Okay.” I sighed. It was going to be a long day. I’d expected her to have an attitude. From experience, Freya’s fits of temper could last a very long time. Up until now, it had been easier to appease her than deal with her wrath. Amy had been the same way. Thank goodness, Bronte seemed to have a more even personality, despite her challenges.
As I walked toward my office, the legs of Freya’s chair scraped across the floor and her footsteps echoed at my heels. I walked through the door and turned around to face her. She shut the door behind us.
“There is something else. I want you to know that I forgive you. Grieving is a long and unpredictable process. I’m sure this deal with Bronte is just a phase in your journey to healing. She’s your rebound girl. And I want you to know that when you’re done with her, I’ll be waiting.” Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. She sniffed and turned her gaze to the left.
“Freya, no.” A rush of sympathy replaced my irritation. She’d lost her best friend, her twin sister, someone who shared identical DNA. This had been rough for her. And now she was losing me, or thought she was.
“No?” She flashed a sideways glance in my direction, brow furrowing.
“I don’t want you to wait. Even if this thing with Bronte doesn’t work out, you and I are not going to be together. Ever. Do you understand?”
“You don’t know that. I mean, there’s always a chance, right?” Her chin trembled.
I sat on the edge of my desk and clasped my hands together to keep from hugging her. She looked so vulnerable, so broken. “I don’t want to lie to you or lead you on. There is zero chance that we’ll ever be together. I love you, but not in that way. You’re like a sister to me, and that’s all you’ll ever be.”
“Is it because I look like her?”
“Maybe. But not really.” Her lower lip quivered. I drew in a deep breath and searched for the right words. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”
“That’s not enough for me.” Her words ended on a choked sob.
“It has to be. I can’t make myself have feelings that don’t exist.” She sniffled. I handed her a tissue and waited while she dabbed at the tears on her cheeks. “Look, why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Think about what you want to do. I understand if you don’t want to work for me anymore. I’ll give you a fantastic recommendation.”
That evening, Carter showed up at my apartment with his pickup truck. I’d enlisted his help to clear the apartment of the past so I could make way for the future. He brushed past me and through the door, wearing a pair of camouflage pants and a tight black T-shirt. His long hair was pulled into a man-bun on top his head. Only a guy like Carter, with muscles bulging and fierce features, could pull off that kind of look.
“About fucking time,” he said, by way of greeting.
“I know,” I said. “Apparently, I’m a slow learner.”
“I’ll say.” He snorted. The bruises of his double black eyes had faded into a vague greenish tint to his skin. “But then again, so am I.” We bumped fists. “Let’s get this party started. What’s the plan?”
“Everything goes,” I replied. “I’ve got new furniture coming this week. And all the pictures and stuff goes into storage for Freya, if she should ever decide she wants it.”
“So, what happened? You never did tell me. Did you two break up?” He snorted at his cleverness.
“Sort of.” I didn’t want to go into the details out of respect for Freya. “I’m seeing Bronte.”
“No shit!” Carter froze mid-step and set the box he was holding back on the floor. “The coffee shop genius?”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t hold bac
k a shit-eating grin. “We’re giving it a go.”
“Nice.” He picked up the box again and was silent until we boarded the elevator. “How did Freya take the news?”
“It was a little rough, but she’ll be fine.” I pressed the button for the ground floor.
“I bet she’s got a voodoo doll of you on her dresser, sticking pins in it as we speak.”
“Probably.” The car jolted into action and began the slow descent.
“Mind if I hit that?” Carter asked.
I choked on a laugh. “Excuse me?”
“Freya. Your sister-wife. Or would that be too incestuous for you?”
“It’s a free world,” I replied with a shrug. “I didn’t realize you were into her.”
A devilish light sparkled in his eyes. “Well, she’s probably pissed as hell, and in my experience, an angry fuck is a thing of beauty.”
“You’re a disgusting pig, you know that?” The elevator doors slid apart. I held them open while he dragged out the boxes.
“Not a pig, an opportunist. You’d do well to take a page from my book, bro.”
His words, if not his motives, hit home with me. I was doing my best to make a fresh start. I had no idea where this path would lead me, but wherever it went had to be better than where I’d been. My phone vibrated with an incoming text from Bronte. I grinned and read the message.
Bronte: I want to buy a car. Will you help me?
Me: Shouldn’t you learn to drive first?
Yep, I had no fucking idea where we were going, but I couldn’t wait to get there.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bronte
After the incident with Freya, I took a long, hard look at my own baggage. Rhett had asked me to be his girlfriend. I didn’t have to be a genius to know the correct answer. Of course, I’d said yes. We’d promised each other a fresh start, one free from ex-wives and angry sisters. If we were going to have a chance at happiness, I needed to straighten out my relationship with Jo. Rhett already had enough issues of his own; I didn’t want him to deal with mine, too.
Pretty Broken Hearts: A Pretty Broken Standalone Page 12
