by Maisey Yates
“Liss, if you leave me...”
“You don’t love me. How bad could it hurt?”
She picked up her mug and turned away from him. Another tear slid down her cheek.
“You’re important to me,” he said.
“It’s not enough.”
She started to walk out of the room. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked. “You’re going to leave me? After everything? After everything I’ve lost? You promised you wouldn’t leave me. You promised me,” he said, shouting now.
She turned back to face him. “I’m not a Band-Aid. You can’t slap me over what hurts so I can heal you while I get nothing back. Dammit, Connor, I want to do that for you. Don’t you understand? But I can’t.” She let out a long breath. “I have a feeling we can go around all night. But if you aren’t ready to change, there won’t be any point. My mind is made up. I know what I want, and if you can’t give it to me, then you have to let me go. Because you’re going to have to let me heal.”
She walked out of the kitchen and this time, he didn’t follow her. She opened the front door and went outside, running down the steps and through the driveway, down past the old barn. She was at the river before she realized where she was going.
The place she’d shared all those summer days with him. The place she’d wept her heart out for him as she’d tried to purge herself of her love for him.
“One more try, I guess,” she said.
She walked down toward the bank, and suddenly it hit her what had happened. What she had done. What she had lost. Her knees gave out, her stomach cramping hard. She bent over, sank to the ground, a rock biting into her knee, a sob racking her body. She had lost him. Really lost him. In every version of this scenario in her mind, it had never been this bad. She had imagined him telling her he didn’t love her. She had imagined him taking her into his arms. But she had never imagined walking away.
Away, not just from the idea of loving him, but away from their friendship.
She pushed up from the ground and walked to the edge of the river, to the swing. She reached out and grabbed hold of the rope, pulling it over to the bank. Then she grabbed on tight with both hands and jumped, landing on the round, wooden seat. The momentum carried her out over the water, cool, sweet air moving over her face, through her hair.
You were scared, but I told you it would be fun.
Connor’s voice, the first night they were together, rumbled through her like a storm.
And you said you had never done it before, but I said you just had to take a chance. And you did, and you screamed and screamed. But in the end, you told me you loved it.
“I took a chance,” she said. “I took a chance. But in the end you didn’t love me.”
You screamed and screamed.
She closed her eyes and tilted her face into the wind, then she took a deep breath and screamed. Because she hurt all over. Because this was the end.
Because she was on their swing.
The scream ended on a sob, her whole body shaking hard. This was her last time on the swing. Her last time on the ranch.
She had to be done. God help her, it had to end.
She couldn’t go on seeing him every day. Couldn’t pour her whole life into him and expect things would stop revolving around him.
She’d made him everything. And until she changed that, he would remain everything.
She held on to the swing so tight the rope burned her palms, but she didn’t care. It didn’t come close to the pain in her heart. And nothing ever would.
She sat out there until she was dried out inside. Until there was a drought inside her. She stayed until she was chilled to her bones, shaking and unable to stop.
Then she got off the swing and walked back to the house. Thankfully, when she cracked open the door, Connor wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
She walked up the stairs, trying not to make noise, and stole into her bedroom. She moved to the bed, sliding beneath the blankets. She felt too brittle to cry now. A sob would crack her, leave her in tiny little pieces that she would never be able to sweep up and put back together.
So she just lay there staring at the ceiling, her eyes burning.
And along with the burning in her eyes came the pressing sensation that nothing would ever be okay again.
She sat up. No, on second thought she wasn’t staying here. Not tonight.
Not for another second. She couldn’t handle it.
She took her phone off her nightstand and dialed the number she usually avoided. Her mother.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, Felicity. I was just about to go out. Can you call tomorrow?”
“No. Mom. I can’t call tomorrow. I need to... I need to come over.”
“I have a date, Felicity.”
Liss blinked back tears. “No. Listen to me. I need to come over. I need a place to stay. Please, Mom. I need you. You can still go out. I just... I need somewhere to stay.”
Her mother hesitated for a moment. “Okay. Why don’t you come on over?”
“Thank you,” Liss said.
She hung up the phone and went to get her duffel bag out of the closet. She would come back for the rest of her things later. Or maybe she would ask Jack if he could help. He wasn’t related to Connor, or marrying into his family, so she stood the most chance of getting his help when all this was said and done. Plus, he already knew some of what was happening, since he had borne witness.
She stuffed quite a few clothes into the bag then looked and saw the prom dress hanging in her closet. It hurt just to see it. But she was taking it with her. Because it was hers, dammit. It wasn’t his. She wrenched it off the hanger and stuffed it into the bag.
She looked around the room, trying not to melt into a puddle of tears. Then she opened the door and walked out into the hall and down the stairs. She didn’t see Connor. And that was for the best.
She paused at the door and flicked on the porch light before walking outside into the night, leaving Connor, and her heart, behind.
CHAPTER TWENTY
CONNOR WOKE UP, the same dream he’d had the other night playing on repeat in his mind. His bed was empty. His sheets were cold, and he was sweating and shaking. Because in the dream, Liss was standing there, bathed in the porch light, looking at him, wanting something from him, and he couldn’t give it.
He swung his legs over the side of the mattress and stood up.
He made his way over to the window and saw the porch light was on. He had turned it off earlier, he knew it.
He turned away from the window and walked across his room, opening the door and stalking down the hall. The house felt wrong. It felt empty.
You’re an idiot. What the hell does that mean?
Except he knew exactly what it meant. He had lived in an empty house for three years.
But Liss had gone to her room. He’d heard her come back inside before he’d gone to sleep. She was still here.
No, she isn’t.
He knew it then, as surely as he knew anything else. His heart clenched tight, and he walked down the hall and opened her door without bothering to knock. The bed was empty. The room was empty. He turned and strode back out, taking the stairs two at a time and going to the front door.
He stood there, caught in a moment of déjà vu. How many times had he done this in the middle of the night? Dreaming Eli would be on the other side.
Don’t open the door.
He never opened the door. Because there was no point. Eli was never there.
An image of Liss as she’d been in the dream flashed through his mind. Looking at him, begging him.
I love you.
He flung the door open without another thought, and when he saw nothing but empty space
the shock hit him with the force of gunfire. He’d really expected her to be there. Looking at him. Waiting for him.
He walked outside, barefoot and in his underwear, down the porch stairs onto the driveway. Her car was gone. He knew it would be. But he had to make sure.
Liss was gone. She wasn’t there.
And he was alone again.
She was right. He had made a choice to let her go.
But he didn’t have it in him to do anything different.
* * *
“ARE YOU DRUNK?”
“I’m asleep,” Connor said, shifting his position, not entirely certain where he was or who was talking to him.
“Are you hungover?”
Connor opened his eyes and immediately shut them again. The sun was shining in his face. And he was very obviously not in his bed. In fact, he was freezing his balls off. He shifted again, becoming aware of how uncomfortable he was. Of just how stiff and sore he felt.
“I don’t think so,” he said, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand before he opened them again. He was outside. On his porch. Sitting in the uncushioned wooden chair that was right by the door. And Eli was standing there, arms crossed, looking disapproving. “No, not hungover.”
Because last night came back to him far too readily. Way too clearly. And his chest hurt more than his head.
“Then what the hell are you doing?”
Was there any point in lying about it? He didn’t think so.
“Liss left.”
“Did she find another place to stay?”
“Not as far as I know.”
Eli frowned. “Then why did she leave?”
“Because I ruin things,” Connor said, sitting up straighter, pain shooting through his neck and back. “I ruin everything. Yeah, that about sums it up.”
“Sure, but she knows that. And you’ve been friends for long enough, and it’s never seemed to bother her.”
“Big surprise, I ruined that, too,” Connor said, the bitterness that had lodged itself in his chest flooding out with his words.
“What did you do?”
“I slept with her.”
He watched his brother’s face run through about four different emotions. None of them positive. “You what?”
“Please tell me I don’t have to repeat that.”
“No. Sorry. That was reflexive. Because I can’t believe it. You slept with Liss?”
“Yes.”
“What the... Connor. If you are ready to get back out there, there were a lot better ways to go about that.”
“It was not that simple. It’s complicated. It was and continues to be complicated.”
It’s not complicated...
He could hear Liss’s words echoing in his brain. Broken, soft, sad. He had made her sad.
He’d spent a fair amount of time hating himself over the years, but he hated himself more now than he could ever remember.
Eli was right. He should not have dragged her into this.
Yes, she had jumped in with both feet, but he had kissed her first. Knowing that he couldn’t give more than a physical relationship. Knowing that he was unwilling. And he’d told himself all kinds of lies to make it all seem okay. Because it had felt good. Because he had felt good for the first time in so long. At her expense.
“So what happened?”
“I need coffee,” Connor said. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to straighten my neck again.” He reached back and ran his hand over his sore muscles.
“Then we’ll talk inside.”
Eli was being stubborn, and Connor knew from experience that when Eli was stubborn there was no getting around him.
Connor stood, staring his younger brother down. “Fine.”
Eli walked past him and pushed the door open, holding it for him. “I’m the new sheriff, and I would appreciate a little bit of respect.”
“You’re looking in the wrong place,” Connor muttered as he walked past him and into the kitchen.
Connor set about putting coffee on, ignoring Eli’s presence as best he could. Heart-to-heart conversations were not his favorite thing in the world, and he had a feeling he was headed for one. He also knew that short of chasing him out with a shotgun, he wasn’t getting rid of Eli until they had it.
He switched on the coffeemaker, and the sounds of imminent caffeine filled the room.
“Just stop,” Eli said. “Stop making a concerted effort to stay miserable.”
Connor turned to face his brother. “What are you talking about?”
“Connor, you make a serious effort to be unhappy.”
“It doesn’t take that much effort to be unhappy when you lose everything,” Connor said, bristling against Eli’s words.
“It’s more than that. It’s more than just being sad because you miss her. You push everyone away. You do your very best not to share anything with anyone. You are committed to staying unhappy. And I’ve never seen someone take that commitment more seriously than you.”
“Go ahead and tell me how you would have acted differently, Eli. Go right ahead. But you can’t guarantee that. You can’t know that.”
Eli rocked back on his heels. “I don’t have to know it. I just have to convince you to knock it off.”
“For what reason?” Connor slammed his hands down on the countertop. “I’m serious. Give me a reason, Eli.”
“So you don’t die alone. How about that, asshole?”
“That’s the way I’m headed, anyway, isn’t it? No matter what? I mean, show me an indicator that I’m not. Dad is dead. Mom left. Jessie died. And Liss is... She’s gone. I can’t... I can’t keep people with me. It’s like trying to grab on to a handful of sand. It just all drains out in the end, and you’re left with a fistful of nothing. What’s the point?”
Eli put his hands on his hips and looked down. He took a deep breath, raised his head and met Connor’s eyes. “The point is that when you can let go of all that, of the fear, and the anger, there’s something better on the other side. Trust me.”
“I’m a lot further gone than you ever were.”
Eli leveled his gaze on him, his dark eyes grave. “Do you love her, Connor?”
The question made Connor’s heart freeze, a cold sweat breaking out over his skin. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” he said, unsure of why he couldn’t just say no. He had told Liss he didn’t love her, so saying it again shouldn’t be hard. And yet the words wouldn’t come.
“It’s the only thing. If you love somebody, then you work the rest out.”
“I have something pretty cynical I could say about that.”
“There are no guarantees. You aren’t going to get one. But if you aren’t going to take any chances you might as well start digging your grave now. Because what’s the point?”
Connor gritted his teeth. “The point, Eli, is that I cannot go through something like that again. Or I really will die. Or drink myself into the ground, just like Dad.”
“But you didn’t. You went through more than he did, and you didn’t.”
“I can’t,” he ground out.
Eli broke his hands over his face then turned away from Connor, taking a deep breath. “Connor, is she dead?”
“What the hell, Eli?”
Eli turned around again. “Is she dead? That’s what you asked me when I told you why I couldn’t make it work with Sadie. You told me that if she wasn’t dead there was still hope. Take your own damn advice.”
Connor didn’t plan his next movements, he simply acted. Next thing he knew he had his hands wrapped around the collar of Eli’s shirt, and he had his younger brother’s back pressed hard against the kitchen wall. “Don’t you dare talk to me about that. Jessie is dead.”
Eli stared him down. “Liss isn’t,” he said, his words hard. “You aren’t. So stop existing like you are.”
“That simple?”
“No. Not that simple,” Eli said, pulling out of Connor’s hold and tugging his shirt back down into place. “After years of grieving, drinking, quitting drinking, finding someone new. You’ve been through hell, I know that. But now you’ve reached the other side, and you can walk out. So do it.”
“You have no fucking clue,” Connor said.
“I have more of one than you think. You know... I saw the medical report.” He took a deep breath. “I know. I know about the baby. But I never said anything in case...”
“In case I didn’t know,” Connor said, feeling the heat drain from his blood.
“Right. And I’m sorry, Connor. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine everything you’ve lost. And I’ve never pretended I could. But I can tell you that you have to let go.”
Connor looked out the kitchen window at the trees, the wind blowing through the branches, so calm and peaceful. Because the storm was too busy raging in his chest. “You haven’t said anything about the baby for three years, so why say something now?”
“Because I... Well, with the way things have gone, how you’ve responded, I figured you knew. But if you didn’t want to tell me, I wasn’t going to force it. But now...now I have to force some things. Even if you didn’t know...it’s something you have to get through. It’s time. Dammit, Connor, you’re my older brother and I admire the hell out of you. You were brave, getting married after what our lives were like, after we watched what our parents went through...”
“No,” Connor said, cutting him off, “I was never all that brave. I never have been. I got married, and I held my wife at arm’s length until...until it was too late. And I can’t... I can’t do this with Liss. She’s... There is no holding her at arm’s length. Because she’s been under my skin for years. She’s my best friend and if...if she becomes anything more she’ll become everything, and I can’t handle that.”
“You know, at some point, it might be good to learn from your mistakes instead of just repeating them.”
