Page 90 of At the Edge with You

A sob explodes from me as I shake my head. “I’m so sorry they did this to us.”

“They don’t matter,” he tries once more, but the pain is still in his eyes.

“You’re right, but I want them to know I know and that this is not okay. I am tired of them constantly hurting you. Going out of their way to make you feel like anything but the amazing man you are. I refuse to let them think they got away with it.”

“Princess, they did get away with it.” His voice is soft, laced with torment.

“No!” I roar. “No,” I say more softly, and I hate how all these feelings make me feel like I’m drowning. I’m so angry, so sad,but most of all, my heart hurts that I went twenty years without a part of my soul. “I won’t let this be swept under the rug. They’ll know I know, and they’ll apologize.”

I turn on my heel, and once more, Jett is there. When we get down the stairs, he threads his fingers through mine, and I look over at him. “I’m coming with you.”

My lip trembles. “You don’t have to. I know you hate them.”

“I want to be there in case you need me.”

I swallow hard before leaning over and pressing my lips to his. “You didn’t want to leave me? You wanted to be my partner?” I ask again, needing to hear him confirm it. How many times did they tell me he chose hockey so he wouldn’t have to deal with me?

How could they?

Jett’s lips curve in a sad smile as he brushes his thumb along my top lip. “Princess, I agreed to put my body through hell just to skate with you again at the ripe old age of thirty-eight, when I’m pretty sure my knees and hips are sixty.” We share a smile, and he kisses my nose. “I would have skated with you until we decided we were done, and then I would have convinced you to marry me.”

My heart swells as I cover his hand with my hand. “I’m so glad I came back to Thistlebrook and argued with you.”

His lips pull up into the sweet, boyish grin I love as he nods. “Arguing with you is my favorite pastime.” He brings my hand up, kissing my palm. “But princess, you don’t need to argue with them.”

“I do,” I insist, stepping back. “I need them to know they won’t mess with the man I love ever again.”

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FIVE

Jett

The problem when Fable gets deep in her feelings like this is that I never know what she’ll do.

Will she rage and scream?

Or will she lose it and stab her parents?

Will I be holding her to calm her or helping bury bodies?

I don’t know, but I’m on her heels as she marches up the sidewalk to her family home. She doesn’t even knock; she throws the door open, her body trembling with fury. The door bangs into the wall, knocking down some photos, the glass crashing to the floor and making Fable’s entrance even louder.

Her mom comes out of the kitchen in alarm as Kitty rises from her chair, her cross-stitching in her hands. “Fable? My darling?” she asks, worry on her face.

Elena looks annoyed. “What is your problem?”

My girl only shakes her head, her face full of wrath. “Where is Richie?”

Elena snorts in her snooty way. “Richie? You mean your father? Lord, you’re so over the top.” She glances at me and curls her lip. “What is he doing here?”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Fable roars, her eyes wild. “This is not your house. This is Kitty’s, and I know good and well she loves Jett and me.”

Elena rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the worried glance she throws Kitty. I almost laugh. Did Kitty tell them she wants them out? “What do you want, Fable?”

“Get your husband.”

Elena mutters something along the lines of Fable being dramatic before she calls for Richie. He comes through the side door by the library, his brow furrowing as he takes in the room. He’s dressed in a tennis outfit with a sweater wrapped around his shoulders. It’s ninety degrees outside, and he weighs as much as I do. He doesn’t need that sweater. “Fable, my love, are you okay?”

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