Page 85 of Rival Hearts

Only my brother could make me feel worse than I already did. I rubbed my face. Since Trent wasn’t going to offer me a beer, I’d help myself. From the fridge, I took out a bottle, popped the top, and chugged half of it. “Will you go over and talk to her for me? See how she’s doing?”

“If you’re asking me to go plead your case, that’d be a ‘no.’”

“I’m not.” I held up my hands. “I swear. I’m not. Everyone says she’s not doing well, and she won’t let me anywhere near her to help. I’ve tried texting her, calling. I sent her flowers yesterday. Had lunch delivered. Silence.” I examined my beer, the sheer magnitude of how completely she’d cut me off sitting on my shoulders. “She’ll let you in. I know she will. I don’t want her to be so alone. Don’t even mention my name when you’re there.”

“So, you don’t want me going over there for you?” Trent eyed me, his skepticism clear.

“I want to know she’s okay and that she’s got support. If that makes my request about me, then sure, Trent. It’s all about me.”

“If Maggie wasn’t here, would you be going to LA?”

I met Trent’s gaze. How honest should I be? Jim’s words about communication and difficult conversations rose up. I wasn’t hiding from anyone anymore. “Yeah, I probably would have taken the job.”

“So, Mom and I, we aren’t worth staying for?”

I pinched my lips with my fingers. “Last time I left, I was weighed down by guilt. I’d let Dan into the house, I’d coveted Maggie to the point where I’d been disloyal to you. I didn’t know how to deal with the things I’d done. I realize now that I should have talked to you, that I should have talked to her. Fear of the unknown held me back. My avoidance of this town had nothing to do with anything you’d done. You’re my brother, and I love you. I’ll always love you, root for you. I am beyond sorry I ever made you feel anything other than those things. Whether I stay in Little Falls or I end up halfway around the world again, I’m going to do better by you and by Mom. We aren’t going to keep drifting apart. I’m tethered to you.” I pushed up the sleeve on his shirt to reveal our tattoo, partially covered by a medieval lock and key, but still visible. “You’re not getting rid of me.”

“I’ll go see Maggie,” Trent said, his voice gruff. “I’m trying to let the past go between us.”

“We all are,” I said. “Just gonna take a while. We’ve got time. I’m not making the same mistakes again.”

“Yeah?” Trent gave me a wry grin. “You got some different ones lined up?”

I smiled. “Probably. I take one foot out of my mouth just to jam the other one in.”

“If you need some salt and pepper for taste, just let me know.”

“Nah, it’s feet, man. You gotta use hot sauce on those to disguise the stench.” We both laughed, and Trent held out hishand to shake. “We’re brothers. We’re gonna hug it out.” We embraced, and I held him tight, patting him on the back.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Maggie

Ginger purred on my chest, her little paws kneading my shirt. Was there anything more perfect than a contented cat? The purring and the kneading motion were soothing.

When the door vibrated with someone’s fist after the doorbell had gone off three times, I knew I should get up, but I just couldn’t summon the energy.

Beside me, my phone started up a familiar chorus. Great, now Trent was trying to check up on me. I sent him to voicemail.

Anotherboom, boom, boomsounded on my door, followed by the repeated ring of my doorbell.

“Maggie! Get your ass to the door. You’re starting to worry me. If you don’t answer this door, I’m going to think something has happened to you, and I’ll break the damn thing down.”

Dropping Ginger to the ground, I heaved myself off the couch and ambled to the door, defeated. Opening it, I leaned against the edge of the frame. “Don’t break my door.” I hadn’t showered or left the house in almost two days. The pharmacy was being run by a semiretired pharmacist friend who’d heard about my dad’s death. The offer to take over the store for a week had beena weight off my shoulders, but the absence of something to do with my time was letting me sink into grief in a way that wasn’t healthy, but that I couldn’t seem to prevent.

“Don’t ignore me. It’s rude,” Trent said.

“If you’re here to plead Grady’s case—”

“We were friends before my brother ever got involved.” His pissed off expression would be intimidating if I didn’t know him so well. “I’m here because people are worried about you.”

Should I be happy or sad Grady hadn’t sent him? Not that I had a choice. Sadness was all I was capable of feeling right now. “As you can see, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” He huffed out a breath. “Let me in, Mags. You gotta let someone in.”

Of all the people in my life who could have come banging on my door, Trent was the easiest to deal with. He wouldn’t ask me to reconsider breaking off my relationship with Grady or try to say I’d get over the loss of Dad. I stepped back from the entryway, leaving the door open for Trent to follow.

Once we were in the living room, I resumed my sprawl on the couch, and Trent took one of the recliners to the right. When the silence became too much, I said, “Is everything all set for tomorrow night?”

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