Page 13 of When You're Home
RhettturnedontoSunsetDriveandcrepttowardtheThompsons’house.HewasscaredoutofhismindtoletTorioutofthecar.Betweenhiscliffsideconfessionandheroutrightrejection,shewasadefiniteflightrisk.Thiscouldbethelasttimehe’dseeherthisweekend.
He pulled into the driveaway, instinctively looking around for Paul. The garage was closed, so Rhett assumed they were alone. Had he gone too far at the Ledges? He hadn’t outright begged her to be with him like that for a long time. She had shut him down with such certainty. She didn’t even offer an explanation, although it wasn’t really necessary, considering they had been having different versions of the same argument for years. He put the Prelude in park, then turned to face her.
“Are you going to paint tonight?” he asked, testing her determination to stay away from him now that his relationship with Chandler was in question.
It was a farce to let Tori believe that being with Chandler changed his feelings for her in any significant way. Tori assumed he was happy. Satisfied. Stable. But Chandler was just the distraction that reminded him to not text Tori so much, to show some restraint when he desperately wanted to drive back to Hampton every single weekend. Being with Chandler had only ever felt like settling.
Tori unbuckled her seat belt and reached for his hand.
“Rhett, you’re home. I don’t love the reason for it, and I’m annoyed that you lied to me by omission about why you left Easton in the first place, but you’re home. And when you’re home, you’re mine.”
His heart swelled with relief. She was pissed, but she wasn’t so mad she was going to shut him out completely. At least not yet.
“I’m going to shower and hang out with my dad and Penny for a bit,” she continued. “I’ll come over after dinner.”
He squeezed her hand in confirmation. “Sounds good. Bring your bathing suit,” he whispered.
“Why would I need my suit?” She looked genuinely puzzled as she moved to exit the vehicle.
“Um, so we can go in the hot tub?” Rhett scoffed, wondering what she was playing at. She knew damn well what he had in mind for tonight. Side glances and comforting words could only offer so much reassurance. He needed to feel her—to be buried deep inside her—to know they were really okay. He knew from the way she clung to him at the Ledges that she needed it, too.
“Oh, Ev. You know I don’t need my suit for that.”
With her flirtatious admission, Tori opened the door and climbed out of her seat. She peeked back into the car to give him one last mischievous smile, offering hope for the rest of the weekend after several tense hours. Then she turned on her heel and sauntered up the driveway. He didn’t take his eyes off of her until she disappeared into the side door of the garage.
Rhett felt like he was existing outside his own body. He couldn’t get comfortable. He couldn’t slow his racing mind. All the feelings he stirred up at the Ledges were still swirling around him, prodding at the discomfort he had created.
He spent the rest of the afternoon flopping listlessly from the couch to his bedroom, then back to the couch again. He tried to watch SportsCenter, then changed the channel to some wilderness survival show. Nothing held his attention. Once it started to get dark, he decided he better eat. He warmed up leftover meatloaf and mashed potatoes he found in the fridge, hoping it was something his mom had made recently. He took his food out to the sunroom and grabbed a low-ball glass from behind the bar. He poured a healthy draw of Jameson, then threw in a couple ice cubes.
Rhett settled into one of the bar stools, his back to the Thompsons’ house. He wasn’t going to sit around waiting for the first sign of her like some lovesick puppy. He still had a few shreds of pride left after today’s brutal shutdown.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached for it, hopeful it was Tori sending him an ETA. Chandler’s picture illuminated the lock screen instead.
Chandler:I’m so sorry about yesterday. I overreacted. I sat in the apartment making assumptions for almost 2 hours before you got home. I didn’t even give you a chance to explain.
Rhett stared at the screen. A ball of guilt settled in his stomach as he thought about what an asshole he had been to her over the last twenty-four hours. He hadn’t even sent her a text to tell her he was okay after he stormed out of the apartment.
Chandler was a senior majoring in fashion merchandising with a minor in marketing, on track to graduate in May when he graduated with his master’s. They spent most weekends together, going out for date nights on Friday nights, then staying home and watching football or basketball on the weekends. He didn’t mind her company, and she came from an upper middle-class family, so he didn’t have to worry about her motive for being with him. She wasn’t a low-maintenance girl by any means, but she had kept their relationship low-maintenance.
Rhett considered himself a decent boyfriend (aside from the fact that he had been in love with someone else for the past ten years). He knew he wasn’t as emotionally available as Chandler would like him to be, but he sent her funny texts to tell her he was thinking about her, and he always paid when they went out together. He had mastered the art of taking pictures of her for social media even though their mutual friends teased him. He let her practically live at his apartment this year even though she was technically a commuter student and could drive to campus from her parents’ house in Wetherington.
All of that had been enough for a while. He had a good time with Chandler when he wasn’t thinking about Tori. He knew she put more effort into their relationship than he did, but that was her choice. Plus, they had never had a conversation about being exclusive. That was another caveat he carved out for himself—if Chandler didn’t feel compelled to ask, he wasn’t about to admit that he was also sleeping with Tori. They had somehow made it almost three years together avoiding The Talk. Maybe that’s why their fight last night had been so explosive.
Chandler had treaded lightly around the topic of Tori for the last three years. She knew enough about his childhood and their friendship to respect that they had a history. She seemed to accept that Tori would always be in his life. Yesterday was the first time she had verbalized the thoughts that Rhett feared would bubble up to the surface one day.
Chandler: Rhett, please just tell me you’re okay. I don’t even know where you are. Are you coming home tonight?
Her second text jolted him out of his own head. He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he owed her a response.
Rhett: Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday. Really sorry. I’m in Hampton for the weekend. I’ll be back onMondayand we can talk then.
Chandler: Okay. Tell your family hi for me.
He grimaced. He knew better than to say anything about his family not being home this weekend. He wasn’t about to throw a match in the gas tank.
He closed out his texts and repocketed his phone, confident their conversation was over. He had to hand it to Chandler: She knew when to back off and leave him alone. That was one of the reasons it was so easy to stay with her—she never asked for too much, always toeing the line between attentiveness and acceptance.
He felt her approach before he heard her. Turning his head, he spotted Tori crossing the pool deck and heading for the sunroom door. He hopped up to greet her. They reached the door at the exact same time. He felt her pull the handle out as he pushed the door open for her.
