Page 54 of We Thought We Knew It All
“You’re okay that he followed you?”
“Okay, so I’m weird.”
“Well, we all know that.”
“Shut up.” She punched me lightly. “It just took one conversation with him to remember why I married him. I want to make a go of it.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Even if it means I’ll be going back to London?”
I hugged her. “Even then. Come on. I need this happiness right now.”
“You’ll get it too. I promise.”
“Morgan, you should have seen the way he looked at me. He’s lost faith in me.”
“Give Jamie more credit than that.” She stared into my eyes. “That boy has been in love with you since he figured out girls didn’t have cooties. Your story is one for the ages, babe, and I refuse to believe it’s over.”
I wished I could think like her, but I did my best to push it away as I came face to face with Morgan’s husband. He was sweet, and he smiled every time his eyes found hers. I wanted that. I had it. I ruined it.
“Dinner,” my dad called from the kitchen.
We all filed in to where him and Amber had salvaged as much of the turkey as they could. Jacks and Liam wrapped me in a group hug that immediately put me in the Thanksgiving mood.
It’d been a trying day, but it was Thanksgiving and I had a lot to be thankful for.
We sat around the table chatting and dishing out food.
“This turkey is soooo good,” Jay said, trying his best to hide the grimace when he took a bite.
“Ewwww.” Liam made a face. “I don’t like it.”
“Yeah, Mom,” Jacks chimed in. “It kind of tastes like crap.”
“Language, Jackson,” I said. Everyone was watching me tensely, but then I laughed. “This is awful.” They joined in my laughter.
“I’m thankful for side dishes,” Colby said.
My heart was a little fragmented, but the laughter and love from the people around the table that night kept it from breaking entirely. I made mistakes, big ones, but they couldn’t derail my life.
20
Jamie
It was the early hours of the morning before I returned to Colby’s place. I lay down on the bed, trying to get some rest for my weary mind.
What was I supposed to think? Or do, for that matter?
How could Callie keep something so huge from me for ten years? Then I remembered that she also kept it from herself. She didn’t want to know. If her relationship with Dylan hadn’t fallen apart, I’d never have been told.
I wanted to punch something. My Ranger training taught me to control my impulses, keep a lid on my anger when necessary, but sometimes it was too much.
I couldn’t sleep. No surprise there. Sitting in the corner of the room was my old guitar. Jay brought it the other day, thinking I’d want to play. He didn’t know I hadn’t been able to.
It stared at me, the taut strings taunting, the smooth wood hypnotizing. Playing guitar was how I worked out a lot of things when I was a kid. I let my emotions flow through my fingers.
My hands itched to hold it, so I walked over and lifted it gently. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, I rested it on my leg and wrapped my bad hand around the neck. Gritting my teeth, I squeezed harder, trying to make chords with my fingers.
