Page 124 of The One
I’d never thought that, if he had, he saw right through my purpose, which was convincing myself I was happy with my life.
“Why didn’t you ever reach out?” I asked.
“When I left your house the day of the funeral, I called you and sent you texts for about a week straight. Your phone was eventually disconnected. I assumed you had gotten a new number, and I tried to get it from your friends, but no one had it. When your social media profiles were deactivated, I thought you just didn’t want to be found. You went completely off the grid. And then about six months later, you appeared on Instagram under a different account.”
“All of that is true.” I nodded. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”
He smiled. “You’re asking why I gave up …”
“Did you?”
“Giving up would mean I’d moved on. I haven’t done that, Lainey. I’ve thought about you every day for the last fifteen years. But if you’re asking why I never reached out, that’s because I didn’t think you were ready to hear my side. I was thinking of you. Not me.” He looked at me through his long, thick lashes. “Since Penelope jumped, nothing I’ve done was for me.”
The report he had given to the police. The conversation he’d had with my father, never pushing to air his side of what had happened. The talk he’d had with me on the floor of my bedroom. His lack of contacting me, even though he was watching, even though he was always there.
He’d been living in limbo until I found him asleep at the cemetery.
“The day I saw you at Pen’s grave,” I started, “I was supposed to fly in earlier that evening, but my flight was delayed. I didn’t get in until after ten, and I threw my stuff in my old room and went straight there.”
“And found me passed out.”
The memories prickled my skin, like tiny nails were tapping me. “All I could think about the entire flight was that I was going to get there past midnight. That I was potentially going to miss the anniversary and disappoint Pen. I wanted to talk to her. I miss her so much.”
His gaze intensified. “Disappoint her? Lainey, come on …”
“She doesn’t ask anything of me anymore. She doesn’t need me. You would think, after all these years, I’d have adjusted to that. I haven’t. So, at the very least, I can show up on the day of and not the day after.”
I pulled his jacket closer, the scent getting stronger from the movement. I wish my nose didn’t trigger thoughts. I wish scents didn’t stir up emotions. But every time I’d gotten a whiff that had similar notes of Rhett’s cologne, I would freeze, instantly looking for him. He was never there, of course. But the fact that I didn’t have to scan the space around me, that he was right here in front of me, made the air leave my lungs. I took several deep breaths.
“I couldn’t believe you were at her grave. I never, not in a million years, expected that. And I didn’t exactly give you the warmest welcome.”
“It’s okay. I deserved it.” He dragged his hand down the side of his beard. “I go to see her often.”
“You do?”
“I tell her things about me. I talk to her about you and what I’ve seen on your Instagram. I apologize to her.”
Tears were threatening to build in my eyes, especially as his last admission hit me. “Apologize for what, Rhett?”
“For not giving her what she needed. I should have been more understanding and not so fucking angry with her. I should have been patient. She wasn’t sober, she wasn’t thinking clearly.” He rubbed the tattoo on his thumb. “I know that as an adult. I didn’t know that as an eighteen-year-old kid.”
“You’ve put so much into this, haven’t you?”
He pointed the lion at me. “It started with this. I needed the reminder to find the courage. It would have been easy to let the darkness consume me. And I’ll be honest—it does at times. The week around the anniversary isn’t a pretty sight. I do everything in my power to bury myself, and I let the thoughts win. But after that week, I get pulled out, and I try my damnedest to stay on a good path.” He chuckled. “My family and friends will tell you I’m a raging asshole ninety-nine percent of the time.” He ended the laugh with a small grin. “They’ve learned to love me for it.”
I could understand why.
He was irresistible. Even more so now than before.
“God …” I glanced up at the sky, at the clouds, at the sun that was peeking between them. “This is …”
“More than you bargained for.”
I held the air in my lungs, my chin slowly dropping, and I nodded. “I think I need a giant glass of vodka, and the quietness of my apartment, and a minute to let my thoughts win.”
“I get that.”
I took a few moments before I said, “Thank you for coming here. I don’t know if I ever would have asked you for your side or if our second meet up would have looked any different, if I would have listened.”
