Page 22 of Between Now & Heartbreak

She’s going to marry the man who I have reason to believe is my biological brother.

I can’t look at her anymore. I can’t do this anymore.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say in a terse voice and tuck my phone away in my pocket.

She grabs my arm and digs her fingers in.

“It does. Carter, I didn’t send that. I didn’t even have a phone. The first chance I got, I sent you a message. Didn’t you get it?”

I flinch at the memory of how I felt reading that message. She needed me and I wasn’t there.

And she found someone else.

I squash my guilt and try to sound nonchalant.

“It went to my requests, I didn’t see it until last week.” But I hear the regret in my voice and can see that she does, too.

“Oh, Carter. Oh, no,” she whispers, her hand comes back to my chest, covering my heart. The binding that’s been constricting it loosens at the touch of the woman who it wants to belong to.

I’m a fool. Because, I don’t step away this time. Instead, I do what comes naturally and place my hand over her heart, too. It thuds against my palm. I close my eyes briefly, savoring the heat of her skin under my hand.

We stand there, our hearts in each other hands and for a moment, we’re us.

The frayed edges around the tapestry of my memories begin to reknit themselves as I look into her eyes and see the truth of things.

“Is that why you moved on? You thoughtIhad?” she asks.

Time, acrimony, hurt, all of it disappears.

None of those things, even united common purpose, are can measure up to the strength of this feeling.

“I didn’t move on.” I say

Her eyes are hopeful. And…my heart wants to cling to it. Could it really be this simple?

The answer to that comes swiftly and decisively.

“Clover, we’re waiting for you. You’ve got to sign it, too.”

She yanks her hand back and steps away from me. For a second my hand sits there’s suspended in midair in the place where she’d been standing. I turn to see her big lugging idiot of a fiancé step through the door. He’s dressed in a suit that looks out of place in this small county clerk’s office. But next to Beth, who’s dressed in black skirt and pink silk blouse, he looks…right.

His expression morphs from an annoyed scowl to what he must think is a charming smile when he sees me.

I’ll never forget how he looked at me that afternoon at her house. And when his smile falters and recognition darkens his eyes, I can see that he hasn’t forgotten either.

I don’t know what I expected to feel when I came face to face with him again. I thought now that I knew he was my brother, maybe I’d feel a connection, or a spark of recognition.

All I see the asshole that bullied and then managed to seduce my girl--

I put a brake on those thoughts. She’s not, and never has been that. No matter how badly I want her to be.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m Duke Tremaine.” He sticks his stupid fucking hand out for me to shake.

I don’t trust myself to not crush the hand that I know gets to touch her.

I sneeze into my cupped palms and then hold them up apologetically. “Sorry, don’t want to give you this cold.” I shove my hands in my pockets.

“That’s considerate of you.” he says in his good old boy mannerly way, but his eyes narrow and his smile is gone.

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