Page 3 of Forgetting Rafe Thomas
With a quick nod, I push her car door shut and head inside. I definitely have to figure out what to say to my date, especially since it was a big fat lie of an excuse to get out of our date. Going on another date with him is not an option, and I have a good feeling he’ll ask.
In the security of my own place, I take another cleansing breath. Nothing has felt right since I walked away from Rafe, not even my own vision for my future. I thought working as a curator in the museum was my dream come true, but big-city life has a lot of downsides. Namely, I miss the close-knit life in Coldstone Creek. I miss my family. I miss cinnamon rolls, and that brood of Thomas boys, and even Mrs. Kilmer and her never-ending to-do list that keeps the town feeling like home. Chatswain City, no matter how hard I try to make it feel the same, never does. It’s not a terrible place to live, but it’s so fast-paced I can hardly keep up sometimes. It lacks the warmth I’m used to.
I drop my purse on my sofa and make a beeline for the bathroom to wash my face and change into my favorite pajamas. Of course, Rafe bought them for me. There is hardly a space in my apartment that doesn’t bring forth some memory of him, but I suppose that’s what happens when you spend years of your life with someone. They imprint on everything, even the throw rug in the middle of the floor. The one with a cool asymmetrical design he thought I’d love, so he got it and tried to wrap it for me. It was an awful wrapping job, but there was thought and love behind it.
I actually hate it but can’t imagine getting rid of it becausehegave it to me. He wanted to make me happy, but he never seemed to get a clue that it washimI wanted. A promise of a lifelong commitment, not some trinkets and décor.
Once changed, I try not to think about how cozy the pajamas are, how they feel like one of his warm, snuggly hugs, and fall onto my bed. On the bookshelf beside me, my high school yearbooks collect dust on the bottom row. I can’t say why the urge to read through them tugs at my heart—probably the same longing that makes me miss everything about Coldstone Creek—but I grab the one from our last year and crack it open.
Immediately, a smile breaks across my face. So many sweet memories of friends and events flood me at once. The cheer squad smiles back at me just above an image of the debate team…and the engineering club. Rafe Thomas and his goofy high school grin towers over the rest of the club members, mostly first-year kids who looked up to him.
My heart pinches. This can’t be all there is, a book full of memories and a home where every space makes me think of what I lost.
I sigh again and close the book. There are only two options for me now: I either throw away everything I own and begin anew, or I make a trip back to Coldstone Creek and get answers once and for all.
Chapter Two
Rafe
“Hey, you wanna gowith me to—”
“Nope.” I shoot down my baby brother yet again before hearing what his nightly suggestion might be. I have little interest in what a nineteen-year-old firefighter wants to do on a Friday night, unless of course it involves sitting in front of the television, eating cheese puffs, and waiting for life to pass me by.
The problem is, that’s not what he wants, not by a long shot. It will be something like catching a movie, meeting up with the guys, or even going bowling. No, nope, not a chance.
“You didn’t even hear my suggestion,” Mav says, stopping in front of the television. I crane my neck to watch it around him, so he turns it off.
“I don’t need to hear your suggestion to know I don’t want to do it. I’m good where I am, now give me the remote and let me sulk.” I swipe for it, but Mav holds it out of reach. Since I don’t plan on getting off the sofa to tackle him for it, I let him take the win.
Nothing wrong with a little silence.
“You have grown an old man beard and turned into a hermit.” For a man, he’s good at scrunching his nose in disgust.
I shrug.
“That’s it. I can’t stand by and watch my brother devolve into…whatever this hobo style is.” Mav waves a hand over my stained sweats and makes a gagging action.
From the kitchen, the echo of a chair screeching over the linoleum puts me on high alert. The only other person home right now is Silas, and if he’s about to join forces with Mav again, I’m in for a night of misery. What I wouldn’t give for Beck or Ezra, even Lev, to be here right now to save me from this torture. But alas, Beck lives with his wife—go figure—and Ezra joined the army. Lev is finishing his last year of college, but even when he’s home he spends most of his time with Emma.
“You know, he’s right. You’ve turned into something completely unidentifiable, and Dad is worried about you. If you don’t shower and shave soon, Mom is going to duct tape you to a chair and do it for you.”
“I like my beard,” I say, scowling at Silas while running my hand over it.
“Fine, trim it into something a little less like a chipmunk lives in it then. Take a shower and go talk to Dad before he comes here. You know what will happen if he shows up on our doorstep.” Silas points to the front door as if our father might waltz through at any moment.
“I’m a grown man, Si. I don’t have to do what my father tells me to do.” I drag my phone from my pocket but Mav snatches it away. Silas chuckles.
“Why aren’t you out somewhere with your girlfriend instead of here annoying me?” I snap.
Silas merely shrugs. “She’s busy. She has friends, you know. Something you also used to have before you shut them all out.”
I groan and scrub my hands over my face. “What do you want me to do? I’m content right where I am, and it would be nice if my brothers could stop pressuring me and pushing so hard.”
“What do we want youto do?”Mav asks, glancing at Silas. “We want you to fight for Luna, Rafe. Whatever happened at Beck’s wedding that you refuse to talk about was clearly the catalyst for your downward spiral into caveman status. You need to fight to fix it and get her back for all our sakes.”
“I can’t fight for a woman who doesn’t want to be fought for. What will it take to make you two get that through your impossibly thick skulls?” I lean forward and grunt as I stand. They might be right about my sedentary status. I’ve gained ten pounds since the wedding, and I feel like a pile of steaming trash. In a dirty dumpster. On fire. Toddling at the crest of a steep hill.
I really wish someone would push me over and end the misery.
