Page 21 of A Family Affair: The Ring
A shrug, and then “Sometimes a guy learns after he’s been burned and isn’t going to let himself get burned again.”
“Ever?”
He mumbled a curse under his breath, just like he used to do when he did not want to answer a question.“I don’t know.I haven’t thought about it.”
“Well, somebody’s been thinking about it, and that somebody is Delaney Hall.Oh, and your mother is darn certain Delaney’s the one for you.In fact, it sounds like they’re both banking on a ring by Christmas.”
He stared at her as if she’d just told him he was givinghera ring by Christmas.“That’s crazy.I never said anything about a ring.”
“Your mother was very firm about what she thought was going to happen, and how I was standing in the way.”Let him figure out the rest.She was not going to spell it out for him.
“Did my mother tell you I planned to propose to Delaney?”
No denying the surprise in his voice, which could be attributed to the possibility hewasn’tgoing to propose to Delaney,orhe didn’t want Melanie to know.She erased the emotion from her words and answered.“Pretty much.”
“Damn her.”
“She’s never liked me, Will.And then after what happened, she hated me.I think she wanted to make sure I heard how happy you were.”
“I’m not marrying Delaney.”Determination mixed with annoyance sifted through his voice.“I’m not marrying anyone.”
It was foolish to let herself feel joy and the tiniest bit of hope with those words.What did it matter?He’d just told her he wasn’t marrying anyone, but what he didn’t add and should have, wasespecially you.“I’m sure your mother won’t be pleased to hear this.”
“I’ll deal with my mother.”
What did that even mean?And what about the past and what they’d meant to each other?“Can you really just erase the dreams and experiences we shared?Pretend they never happened?”Pause and a quiet “PretendInever happened?”
The coolness in his voice and the closed expression said that’s exactly what he’d done and what he planned to continue doing.“It’s called self-preservation.Maybe you should try it.”
“Really?That’s what you’re going to say?Live half a life?Do you have any idea how many therapists I’ve seen about this, how difficult it was to open up?I failed every time and never dealt with it until the last one.Before that, I kept making excuses for my inability to have a long-term relationship.Oh, I told them all about the boyfriend and the nano-second fiancé, and I even told one about what our parents did.But the last one let me know I wasn’t fooling her, and that’s when she helped me realize I wasnevergoing to get pastusuntil I dealt with it.My guilt.My betrayal.What my parents did and how my family reacted, and I guess even what yours didn’t do.Youwere the one who was left damaged and betrayed.But what we didn’t see was that we’d all been damaged.I can’t live that way any longer.”She sucked in a breath, blew it out as she gathered strength to finish what she needed to say.“Iwon’tlive that way.”
The jaw twitch said she’d gotten to him, but the Will Callahan she’d once known was buried so deep behind the need toneveropen up again that her words didn’t matter.“I’ve got to go.I hope you find your closure.”One more hard look at those cookies and then he turned and left.
13
Will made it out of the driveway and five seconds down the winding road toward his house before he blew out a long breath and let out a string of curses.Was thisevergoing to be done?Wassheever going to not affect him?Oh, he’d played it so cool, watching her with those damn cookies, sharing her pain, her regrets,her heartand it had been almost impossible to stand there and pretend he wasn’t affected.The woman had always been able to get to him in good and bad ways, and he’d be a fool to try and convince himself he didn’t care.He didn’twantto care, didn’t want to think about her or her need for closure as she called it.Closure?How did you have closure on an open wound that would never heal?Sure, it might scab over for a little while, but then a reminder crept in and broke it open all over again—as painful as the first time.
What had she expected him to do?Grab a few cookies—he could have eaten half a dozen—agree to talk about the old days, and everything stuffed in between like hope, promises, love?Right.So he could feel those emotions and then she could cross each one off her list as completed?This wasn’t a questionnaire or an activity to be gotten through, resolved, case closed.Did she expect to do that?Maybeshecould, maybe that’s why it was so important for her to do this.Once she got her closure, she could move on, find her guy, be happy.Good for her.
He’d found his own sense of peace and he’d settle for peace rather than the ups and downs of letting someone else own your heart.Not happening again, especiallynot with her.Another curse, another sigh.What was he really worried about?Could he just friggin’ admit it one time?
Fine, he’d admit it.If he started spilling his guts and having “honest” conversations with her, what did he think could happen?Would he get his closure?No, he could fall for her all over again, and even if she said she felt the same way, promised him he owned her heart, and she’dneverbetray him or leave him or any of the other ever-after BS couples said, he’d never be able to draw a clean breath again.No, he’d be waiting for the next “situation” that would crush them, and he wasnotgoing to do that.
Would he have felt differently if she’d shown up six months after they’d split?What about nine months or a year?Okay, even two years?He’d still been raw and angry, but by year three, he’d gone numb and that made him determined to shut down any possibility of letting a woman get close enough to hurt him.And if that person were Melanie?Hard pass.Not even going to consider it.
So why did his gut feel like he’d eaten a dozen of O’Reilly’s extra-hot wings?And why did he have the beginningsandthe middle of a headache?And how could he get out of this foul mood and regain calm?By the time Will reached his driveway, he’d plummeted into full-blown agitation over the whole conversationandhis reaction to it.
Will parked the car and headed into the house he’d bought five years ago that still didn’t feel like home.How did a person live in a place for this long and not find comfort or familiarity in it?Maybe because he wouldn’t let himself?Or maybe because the reality didn’t mesh with what he’d envisioned?He grabbed a beer and made his way onto the deck before his brain could pummel him with more “what ifs” and “maybes.”There was a lot of green making up the back yard: shrubs, oak trees, grasses.No flowers, no vegetable garden, no pops of color.
Someday I want a big vegetable garden where I’ll grow tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, even jalapeño peppers.The woman he’d loved had laughed.Maybe I’ll even add cayenne or ghost peppers.Aren’t you the one who said he’d never met a pepper he couldn’t eat?
That’s me.And I suppose you’ll smother the backyard with flowers?
So many flowers.We’ll have a pollinator garden.
A what?
A pollinator garden.You know, the kind of garden that attracts bees and butterflies and hummingbirds.My mother could never be bothered with anything like that because she said it was too messy and the flowers grew outside of the borders, and she couldn’t tolerate disorder.Those hazel eyes had turned bright, her voice shifting with emotion.I love a certain disorder, especially the random kind that reveals beauty in nature.
