Page 75 of The Nice Guy
I open and close my fists at my sides. “Why are you still here?”
“You realize how you look, right? With him?”
“What? Happy?”
“You look as ridiculous as you sound right now. You’re too good for him, Brynlee. You know it, I know it, these two chimneys enjoying the little show you’re putting on know it,” he says and nods to Tim and Everett. “And Rhett knows it.”
I just glare as I contemplate what problems would come from reaching out and bopping him. He wouldn’t sue me, would he? Would I care?
“My looks will fade, Kevin. So will yours. I want someone who wants me for more than how good I look on their arm. That’s all you want from me. You don’t see me for anything other than that, and you love theatta boyadoration from everyone when you tell them I was a beauty queen. I don’t care about any of that. And I’m so tired of the fake life you call your life. I don’t want to be part of it ever again.”
“I love you.”
Tears sting at my eyes again, and I don’t know how long I can hold back the angry waterworks. “No, you don’t. You love what being with me means to you, but you don’t love me. And that’s okay because I don’t love you. I never did. We were together because Mama wanted us together, and she’s not here anymore. I choose Rhett, and I choose this town. I don’t choose you.”
Rolling his eyes, he reaches out and takes my arm. “I’m done with this. It’s enough, Brynlee. You’re coming home, and that’s the end of it. We’re going to get you into therapy because you clearly need some sense talked into you. I think you may need medication, too, but I’m willing to push past all of this nonsense with you.”
I pull my arm from his grasp and try to step backwards. “I will not end up like your mother!”
My ankle twists and scrapes the curb, and I fall backwards, my arm finally free. Kevin reaches out to help steady me, but in our clumsy exchange, he smacks my mouth. Falling to the ground, I touch my lip where the metallic taste touches my tongue, and my backside smarts from how I landed. But my ankle hurts worse than anything. The top layer scrapes always seem to do that.
His face pales as he sees the blood, and he backs up. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to.”
I have blood on my fingers, and Tim and Everett run towards me while Kevin continues to back up.
“Are you stupid? Hittin’ a woman,here?” Tim shouts. “Brynlee, are you okay?”
Everett runs inside the bar, and I know he’s getting Rhett. Looking up at Kevin, I just say, “You need to go. Now!”
He runs to his car and peels away as everyone rushes outside. Tim helps me stand, my ankle wobbly from being twisted, but I know it’s not broken.
“You’re bleedin’,” Rhett says, his eyes wide as he takes over from my helper.
“It was an accident,” I say. “On the bright side, he finally left.”
“You let him go?”
“It doesn’t even hurt. My ankle hurts more,” I say and look down at it. Not only has it already started to swell, I have blood dripping onto my wedges.
Rhett steps back and stares at me. “You need to press charges.”
“It was an accident. He’s not a violent person, and I just wanted him gone. Now, he is.”
Hopefully this means we can finally get back on track. We can figure out whatever the issue is we have hanging between us and move on. With Kevin out of the picture, things should get better.
“You know, maybe you should have gone with him.”
Everyone gathers around us, and I don’t want to have this conversation in front of the entire town. It’s humiliating enough getting smacked by an ex-fiancé who stormed in trying to drag me back to Chicago kicking and screaming. “I didn’t want to.”
“I don’t think you know what you want, Brynlee.”
I want you. The old version of you I had days ago.“Okay,” I say instead, hoping he catches on that this isn’t the time or place to have this conversation. Maybe he’ll offer to bring me home, and we can decide where to go from here without prying eyes on us. If he’s going to break up with me, I’d prefer he do it in private.
Clenching his fists, he looks at the ground. “I don’t think this is goin’ to work. I don’t think what we have is enough. For either of us.”
It’s not enough. The words spin in my mind, and I fight back the vomit rising in my throat as the tears fight to stay at bay. I look away and try to figure out what to do. He wouldn’t let me drive here, so I can’t just take off. I’m stuck. “Oh.”
“Rhett, let’s just take a step back and think about this for a second,” Darla says.
