Page 90 of The Nice Guy
I’ve rarely laughed through tears before. I really wish things were different because I really love Lydia. We may have only met once, but she’s more motherly than Mama was. Even after Daddy left, she didn’t try to fill the void. Things continued on as though he hadn’t walked out on us. Which is probably why I fell in love with Lydia immediately. That and the fact she wanted dirt on all the rich families.
“Rhett’s miserable, as he should be, and he knows how big of a mistake he made. Probably the biggest he has and will ever make. I guess I’m hopin’ there’s a way for you to find it in your heart to give him a second chance. We miss you, sweetheart. This is your home, too. It’s where your dad and his family were raised.”
Pause.
Give him a second chance? It’s the only way I could go back. Every breakup has sides being drawn, and everyone in Copperwood has known Rhett his entire life or is related to him. I have no one on my side, and I don’t think I’m strong enough to just be his friend. I might not ever be.
“Even if you can’t forgive him, it just breaks my heart thinkin’ of you alone for the holiday. At least, I think you’re alone. I refuse to believe you’d go back to that terrible city boy. Anyway, you are always welcome here. Whether you decide to come homeor not, I’m thinkin’ of you. We love you, and we hope to see you soon. If we don’t, Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
“Well, if that didn’t just kill me a little bit inside,” I mutter as the tears start again. “It was easier when I thought they hated me.”
Mama would be so disappointed in my ugly girl crying right now, but I don’t care. I hate this pain. It feels like it’ll never go away.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rhett
Kids screaming. Adults complaining about screaming. Too much food. It may be Christmas, but nothing feels particularly festive for me this year. I still haven’t heard a peep from Brynlee.
At the very least, I hoped she’d text me to let me know she’s safe. Not knowing where she is and if she’s okay feels like theslowest form of torture anyone can imagine on top of a broken heart I caused myself. Merry Christmas to me.
“Were we like this when we were their age?” Hardy asks, leaning over the arm of the couch.
“Like what?”
“Feral?”
I laugh and nod. “Probably.”
The only way to quiet them down is to let them open up presents, but we can’t do that until the food is put away and the dishes cleaned up. Even though I offered to help move things along, I was banished to the living room with the rest of the men to suffer with the screaming kids. Which is because the women of my family want to talk about Brynlee, and she is a no-go topic around me. Their decision, not mine.
All I want to do is go home and drink away the ache in my chest while I stare at the few pictures we have together. I wish we’d taken more. More mementos of our relationship when we were happy. Before I screwed everything up.
But going home is almost more depressing. The shirt she gave back stopped smelling like her weeks ago. It doesn’t stop me from wrapping it around a pillow and pretending it’s her next to me. Pathetic, I know.
As I look around the room, I realize I need a better coping mechanism than drinking my sorrows away with Everett every night. I’m going to end up with a problem soon if I don’t. Then what will everyone think? That I’m an alcoholic and an asshole, not just an asshole.
If we don’t get the presents opened up soon, the headache I planned to fake to leave early won’t be quite so fake. I’ll need an aspirin if I stay seated in this recliner too much longer. The best I can do right now is pray my eardrums don’t burst while I continue to talk to no one.
“Okay, I can’t take this any longer,” Pop says. “Rhett, have you heard anythin’ from Brynlee?”
My brothers and brothers-in-law look surprised but also intrigued as they focus on me for my answer. Apparently, Pop is the only one not abiding by the unspoken agreement like everyone else.
I shake my head and stare at my buffalo-plaid socks. I’d say something, but he wouldn’t hear me. Besides, what can I say? I freaked out, got jealous over nothing, made the woman of my dreams believe she wasn’t enough for me, and then stubbornly stayed at the bar while she left town when I could have stopped her? And now she won’t even text me that she’s safe when I asked her to let me know because she hates me? It’s not like he doesn’t already know all this.
“Have you tried callin’ her?” Hardy asks.
“Well, that’s a new idea,” I snap and immediately shut my eyes. Luckily, he’s one of the only ones who can hear me over the kids. “I’m sorry. I’m crabby, and I didn’t mean to snap at you. Yes, I’ve tried. More times than I should admit. She never calls back. Won’t even text me.”
Clint sits next to him and looks shocked. “She has conviction.”
“She did the same with Kevin. When Brynlee’s done, she’s done.”
Something I clearly didn’t put together before it was too late. If I’d just asked her about the wedding countdown, she would have had the conversation with Kevin in front of me like she offered. We’d be here, together, having our first Christmas together. Instead, my heart is off wherever she is.
“Kids, stop it!” Pop shouts, putting an end to the running and screaming. “I can’t hear myself think, and we’re havin’ a conversation. If you have to run and scream, go out back.”
“Why didn’t he do that thirty minutes ago?” Darwin mutters as the kids all sit on the floor and lower their voices to a reasonable level.
