Page 63 of Back in the Country
“Wow is right, Way. You were incredible.” His arms wrap around the small of my back as he pulls me flush against him.
He steals the startled breath that escapes me by crashing his mouth over mine. The ferocity of the kiss is completely unexpected and overwhelming, but I amsohere for it.
25
MARLEE
Aweek passes.
And then another.
Sorren and I are like two ships in the night—existing in the same space but no real need for interaction. Today, I park myself at the kitchen table in our grandparents’ house. It feels almost poetic that so many chapters of our lives should begin and end in this place.
His footsteps are slow and deliberate as he makes his way down the hall. When we were kids, Saturdays brought this place to life with Gran making a special breakfast and Pop singin’ along with the radio. This Saturday is different, but I know he can sense me here just like I can him. We’ve always been like this—in tune with each other—and even if we haven’t spoken much since he came home, I can stillfeelhim in the silence.
“Can we talk?” Sorren’s voice is somewhere to my left, but it takes me a really long time before I’m able to meet his gaze.
“Sure.”
I’m so tired. Between my brother and Waylon, I’m exhausted. I mean, I’m tired from Waylon for an entirely different reason, but I’m not about to tell Sorren that.
My brother sits in the chair across from me so I’m forced to look at him. He looks tired too. His hair has an abundance of grays that weren’t there before. The stress he’s carrying can be seen in the flat line of his mouth and the slight twitching of his jaw muscle as his teeth clench.
My heart hurts.
“I want you to go back to Nashville.”
I blink.
My mouth opens to speak, but nothing comes out. I close it and then try again.
“What?” There’s no hiding the disbelief in my tone.
“You left your life in Nashville to come here to be with me, and while I appreciate that, I don’t want you upending your life for me.”
We stare at each other for a really long time as I attempt every deep breathing exercise I can think of, because if I don’t get my shit under control I’m going to throttle my brother.
“I don’t want tobein Nashville.”
“Your life is there. Your friends, your job—that’s your home.”
“Clementine Creek is my home!” The words are loud and harsh, but I can tell in the way he doesn’t react that he’s not hearing me.
“I’ve visited you there. You were happy.”
“I was happy foryou,Sorren. I was happy you were there. I was happy I was making you proud, but Nashville wasnevermy home.”
His features soften ever so slightly, and he looks a little more like the brother I knew.
“Then why…” The words trail off as he stares at me. Taking a breath, I brace myself because what I’m about to say isn’t easy.
“I would do anything to make you happy, Sorren. You’ve sacrificed so much for me that the thought of you being disappointed makes me physically sick.”
Elbows on the table, he scrubs his hands over his face, emotions pouring off him in waves.
“Everything I’ve ever done has been to give us a better life, and I don’t regret it.” His voice lowers. “You’ve never disappointed me.”
“Even Caleb?” I say, trying to bring some levity into the conversation.
