Page 48 of Where Love Lies

His Adam’s apple bobs.

“I think it’s for the best. Owen gossips too much. The entire block would think I beat you within an inch of needing an ambulance.” The way he says that unsettles me, it comes out so easy and without concern. He looks up and smiles, my apprehension lifting.

He’s right; Owen is a drama queen. Which is one of the many reasons he’s my best friend, but I don’t want everyone looking at Heston and me and trying to fix us. The therapist will tell us one thing and then the neighbors will give their two cents, which may cause us to derail before we even have a chance to fix things. It occurs to me that I might care about what the neighbors will think of me too. I’ve been doing that since I moved here. I might love the houses, the freedom, and the companionship, but I’ve been living my life by the book of living in the suburbs and not how I truly want. I want to check my mail in my pajama’s and make a sculpture for my yard. Things I couldn’t have in the city, but could have here if I just stop thinking what people would think of me.

“How do you feel now?” Reaching forward, he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, and I flinch. Our eyes lock.

“You don’t trust me?” Disappointment is thick in his voice. My trust in him was slapped out of me yesterday and I don’t know if he can gain it back. Do I want to trust him again?

“Can you blame me?” Silence falls between us for a few seconds that seem like hours.

“No, not at all. I’ll show you that you can depend on me, Rain.” He promises and it makes my bottom lip tremble with emotion. Wanting to change the subject and move on with the day, I ask, “What do you want to do today?”

His eyes take on a deeper shade of blue. “You,” he replies, and I swallow, crossing my legs at the knees.

“I’m on my period,” I lie, and he exhales.

“Really?”

I nod, and he stands up from the bed. “When is Paige coming home?”

“Noon. That’s what Cam said anyway.” I roll over and reach for my phone to see what time it is. Eleven.

“I’ll wait until she gets home before going to work then,” he informs, his tone casual, as if we’re magically fixed. Heston steps into the bathroom, and I raise my hand, looking at the ring on my finger. I still want to get married, but I also don’t. He’s convinced me it’s the thing to do—people fall in love and get married—but the conviction is missing. The belief that it’s really what we need as a couple is not quite there, and after what happened yesterday, I want to run far away from any altar.

The faucet turns off, and Heston comes out, wiping his face with a blue towel.

“You like it?” he asks.

I glance at him, then back to the ring, knowing what I’m about to say might be the end of us. “I think we should wait.” The words come out softer than I intend. I hoped to be strong and confident when telling him.

“What?”

Dropping my hand, I sit up on my elbows and look at him.

“I don’t like the idea of getting married right now. It’s too soon. We have so much to learn about each other. And besides, it’s just a piece of paper. It doesn’t change anything between us.” He swallows, looking at anything but me.

“You’re saying you don’t want to be with me anymore, Rain?”

“No, I’m not saying that. I just don’t want to marry you. I mean—look at us!” My voice rises, along with the pounding in my temple. Adrenaline shoots through my veins at such a high rate, my heart can’t keep up.

He slides his hand through his hair, slicking it back. His eyes cast down to the floor, and I bite my bottom lip.

“You aren’t even going to give my going to therapy a chance?” His words hit me in the chest, and I feel bad. “After you have been going for a while, let’s see where we are. Maybe without the added pressure, we can get back to where we were and move forward.”

Without another word, he opens the dresser drawer, pulls out the ring box, and tosses it on the bed next to me, before walking out of the room.

Pulling the ring off my hand, I take one last look before placing it snugly back inside. Why do I feel like the jackass here?

25

Drying my hair from the shower, I walk into the living room. The TV is on, the blinds open, and Heston is standing at the kitchen island with a piece of toast. He glances at me, tension and fresh-cut pain filling the space between us. I sit on the couch and pull my legs up beneath me. I want to say something, to try to smooth things over, but it’s a weight hovering above me I can’t get out from under. Maybe this is it for us. And if it is, I definitely chose the right path. If we truly love each other, this shouldn’t set us back that much.

Cam’s muffler sounds from the driveway, and I stand up. My eyes lock with Heston’s for a split second before I look away and go to open the door. I lean against the jamb, crossing my arms, watching Paige get out of her dad’s truck. Her eyes are red-rimmed like she’s been crying. When she sees me, she quickly looks down. Her usual happy-to-see-me look isn’t there, instead it’s replaced with one of sorrow. Instantly, I look at Cam for an explanation. He doesn’t look any better. His face is red, shoulders tense, hands clenched in fists.

“What is going on?” I finally ask.

“Where is he?” Cam barks, stomping up the walkway.

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