Page 11 of When You're Home
“I should’ve known!” He laughed again, pulling her into his side affectionately. “You’ve always been loud for me, and that’s exactly how I like it.” He shamelessly inhaled the scent of rosemary and mint of her shampoo before kissing her temple.
Rhett loosened his grip on her and glanced up. They had reached the end of the meadow where the expanse narrowed into the trail. He felt a strong sense of resolve settle over his body as he decided this was it.
“Here we go,” he said just barely above a whisper, more to himself than to Tori. He knew what he was about to say—what he was about to confess and put on the line—and he had no idea how she was going to respond.
Chapter 7
Tori
TheyhadfirstvisitedtheLedgesyearsagowhentheWheelersdecidedthattheyshouldallparticipateinafallhikingspreetogether.Thespreeinvolvedvisitingdifferentlocaltrailsandcompletingatleasteighthikesfromthedesignatedlist.PeterandAnneWheelerdraggedRhettandhislittlesister,Maddie,toadifferentlocationeachSaturdayafternoon,insistingTorijointhemsinceherdadtypicallyworkedonSaturdays.Rhett’sparentsthoughttheywereprovidingawholesomeoutdoorexperiencefortheirkids.LittledidtheyknowtheywerejustgivingToriandRhettideasforplaceswheretheycouldgoandbealonetogetherassoonasRhettgothisdriver’slicense.
They both loved coming out to the overlook at the Ledges. Slabs of rock gave way to a vast nothing. There was a two-mile trail looping through the cliffs and caves, carved out over time by the perpetual flow of water against earth.
Even without the lingering nostalgia she felt for this place, the Ledges felt like sacred ground. On a clear day, you could stand on the edge of the overlook and see all the way to Cleveland. The treetops formed a canvas that changed with the seasons. By February there was a blurred softness to the edges of the thousands of branches that reached up toward the sky, desperately seeking the sun.
There was also a bit of danger to the Ledges. There was no fencing along the overlook, no safety net to separate visitors from the drop-off. There was enough space along the flattop rocks for people to spread out, but there were lots of roots obstinately growing through the quartz and shale rock formations.
Rhett helped her find her footing, glancing back periodically to make sure she was okay. As soon as their boots hit the flattop rocks, he dropped her hand.
Tori smiled to herself as she thought about the last time they had brought a hammock out here. They had strung it up away from the main area, between two V-shaped trees. She glanced over at Rhett, curious if he was also thinking about their gravity-defying escapades from last summer. But he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was cast toward the overlook, his face set in a deep scowl. She saw a hard line of determination in his eyes.
Oh, we must be doing this now,she realized. She had let herself get so wrapped up in the nostalgia of visiting the Ledges and being with Rhett that she hadn’t noticed him tense up.
Tori stopped where she stood and gave him the space he clearly needed. Rhett kept moving forward toward the edge of the overlook. Now that she was paying attention to his body language, the message was loud and clear: He was agitated. She felt her own heart rate pick up in response to his vibe. Usually she loved how attuned her body was to his energy, but this was not one of those instances.
He stopped a few feet in front of her, still facing forward. There was a good fifteen feet between him and the end of the Ledges, but Tori felt uneasy seeing him so keyed up near the edge of a cliff.
“Chandler opened up my mail yesterday,” he said. He spoke slowly and clearly, probably to avoid having to turn around and look at her. Tori stood frozen in place. She hadn’t expected him to just start talking without any prompting, especially not after the way he had avoided the topic all morning.
“I had done all the grocery shopping and restocked the fridge when I got back to Easton after winter break. She said she wanted to double check the totals so she could send me her half.” His tone didn’t waiver, but he paused for a few breaths before speaking again.
“She saw the charge for the flowers I sent you on the twentieth.”
When Tori inhaled, the icy air hit her lungs with a dull throb.Shit. Chandler was probably pissed.Shitshitshit.Of course she would be pissed. Why would anyone in their right mind not be pissed to see expensive flowers on their boyfriend’s credit card statement that he’d sent to someone else? Who the hell even opened credit card statements anymore?
Tori’s mind was spiraling as she forced herself to inhale again. The white calla lilies Rhett sent her were not supposed to be a romantic gesture, but they were an act of love nonetheless.
Anne Wheeler started the tradition of sending her flowers on the first anniversary of her mom’s death. Rhett took over the responsibility when he went away to college. He never forgot, and she knew Anne didn’t have to remind him. Over the last six years, the flowers felt even more significant since January 20 was usually around the time he had to go back to school after winter break. The annual delivery was a comfort she looked forward to and cherished, especially when she was deep in her grief.
“Chandler freaked out,” he continued. “I tried to explain to her what the flowers were for. I don’t think it was just about the flowers, though. It felt like something snapped between us. She started asking questions, making accusations. Obviously, a lot of them were true.” He gripped the edges of his hoodie and jerked the hood off his head in agitation. He was radiating tension, a man literally on the edge.
“She just stood there, holding the credit card statement, screaming at me, demanding to know if we were sneaking around.” Rhett paused for several beats. “And not for the first time since we started this whole arrangement, I didn’t want to lie anymore. I came so close to telling her everything, Tori. I’m so fucking sick of pretending to not be in love with you.”
Tori inhaled, trying to suck in as much cold air as possible to distract herself from the tears welling up in her eyes.
“Chandler called me out. She said I needed to be done with you. That us—whatever this is—it can’t go on if I want to be with her.” He finally turned around to face her. She tried to look away, to look at anything but him. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding. So much of what they shared was only possible because Rhett had Chandler in his life. The thought of that ending struck a harrowing chord against her heartstrings.
His voice went flat as he finally caught her gaze. “So that’s why I’m home this weekend. She freaked out, and now I’m freaking out. Because I know damn well you won’t be with me if I’m not with her.”
Tori blinked hard, quickly wiping away the tears from her eyes with the hem of her pullover. She didn’t even know why she was crying. She had come to terms with their arrangement three years ago. Hell, she had set the terms of the arrangement.
She refused to be in a committed relationship with Rhett because of her past and her future. She was hell-bent on protecting him, on ensuring he didn’t throw away the most vibrant version of his life just to be with her. She knew what her future entailed. She also knew what Rhett’s life should look like five or ten years from now. There was no intersection between the two.
Her mom was diagnosed with breast cancer at twenty-eight. They found it during her postpartum checkup, just six weeks after Tori was born. It took two years of brutal treatment to rid her body of the disease. Then, nine years after her first battle, cancer came back with a vengeance for round two. When Tori was eleven years old, her mom was diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer. A second cancer, a second threat silently raging inside a woman who wasn’t even forty years old. There were so few options for treatment by the time they caught it. Hospice started coming to their house that week. Her mom was gone two months later.
“She was just so young.” That was the phrase Tori heard over and over again following her mother’s death, first at calling hours, then at the funeral. The sentiment still echoed through her encounters with neighbors and acquaintances years later. It was a whisper that haunted all her waking days, a promise that sent her spiraling during sleepless nights.
To combat the inevitable, she went for a series of benchmark scans twice a year as part of an aggressive screening protocol. The screenings were part of a multi-year research study she qualified for based on her genetic history. Those scans were a lifeline, but they also served as a regular reminder that she couldn’t dream of anything long term for her life. She planned things six months in advance, one scan at a time, her eyes always on the finish line of preventative surgery. First, she would graduate from Holt State University, then she would get a full-time job with great health care benefits. Her goal was to have both a preventive bilateral prophylactic mastectomy and a risk-reducing salpingo-oophorectomy before she turned twenty-seven. The surgeries would eliminate the increased risk factors lurking in her DNA. As long as she stayed focused on school, she could graduate in two more years then have the surgeries before she reached the age her mom was when she was first diagnosed.
