Page 99 of The One
The sound.
But this time, it came from me.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Rhett
Present Day
Lainey had turned completely silent. Her gaze shifted from my phone—which still sat on the bleacher, where it had fallen from her hand—to my eyes. Back and forth in a constant, continuous sweep. Even when her stare wasn’t locked with mine, I could sense everything that was going through her head.
The questions.
The confusion.
The accusations.
By showing her the video of Penelope doing coke on my boat, I’d laid the groundwork. Now, I needed to rewind to the beginning.
I stretched out my leg, my foot landing on the spot next to her, and I sat up straight, rubbing my palm over my knee. “Your sister …” My voice cut off as her expression changed. The misery. I could feel it as though it were a living, breathing thing. As though it came with a set of arms that were fucking wrappingaround me. “There were times—many times, in fact—that she said things and did things that she shouldn’t have.”
She pulled at the sides of my jacket, wrapping it around her, lost in its size. “What do you mean?”
“Like when she told me she loved me.”
Her eyes widened before instantly returning to normal. “That was just how she was, Rhett.”
“Maybe. But each occasion really stood out and felt highly inappropriate.”
“Were there other things that she said?”
I let out some air, hearing the way it hit the wind, turning into a sound that was almost like a whistle. “That I should have chosen her instead of you.”
Her mouth opened and closed. When it opened again, she whispered, “She flirted with everyone in high school.”
“She took it further than flirting, Lainey. She sought out attention without considering the ramifications. The things she said, the way she touched me”—I paused, knowing this was hard for her, but it was just as hard for me—“little by little, it added up. Building, you could say, until …”
Until it turned into something far different.
TWENTY-NINE
Rhett
Fifteen Years Ago
The noise that came across the water wasn’t the only thing that was unforgettable. The color of the ocean was too.
I was used to the Pacific changing shades. Storms made the medium blue deepen to navy with murky, dark green hues. On days when there was a period of low current and consecutive sunshine, the water was teal with random patches that were so light that it reminded me of ice.
But as I stood at the stern of my boat, with my hands above my head, seconds away from my eyes closing, I didn’t see blue.
All I saw was red.
THIRTY
Rhett
Present Day
