It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 2

LEX

I roll over and smack my vibrating phone. I have no idea what time it was when I crawled into bed, but when sleep never comes, you can’t blame it all on a bad dream. It’s all real, and with daylight, I have to deal with it.

I want to hide in bed and bypass the day, especially talking with Seth. It’s going to suck, and that’s a vast understatement.

I prefer to reserve confrontation and difficult conversations for someone else. I’m an avoider, which is precisely what got me into this giant shame-ridden mess. But now, I have to strap on my big girl boots and deal with the consequences.

I push myself up, my body springing to life with anxiety.

“How in the hell did I let this happen?” I whisper, shoving my hands into my messy, tangled hair. I pull my knees to my chest, needing the morning air to cool me.

Two years. I’ve dated Seth for two years, and it’s taken me all that time to wake up. I told myself I could marry Seth and let him believe I wanted to. Grandpa said no one was forcing me to do this, but I was forcing myself.

For two years, I’ve been going through the motions, allowing myself to get wrapped up in an idea of what my life should look like. I dated a stable guy and molded myself into his life, but all I’ve been doing is running from the past by planning a future that shouldn’t be mine. I told Seth I would marry him because that would mean I’d finally moved on like it was some kind of proof that I’d actually been able to let go .

I rest my forehead on my knees as my empty stomach twists into a giant knot, heaving bile into my throat. I fill my cheeks with air and blow it out slowly.

I’ve lied to myself, my family, my friends . . . Seth. I’ve pretended to be someone I’m not. To love a man simply because I’ve never been able to stop loving another.

I pretend. It’s what I’m good at. I pretended and made it through school. To be ok when life is hard, disappointing, and full of hurt.

I can’t keep lying to everyone. To myself. I can’t keep trying to convince myself that I’ll somehow be able to move on because I won’t. All this time, all these years, and I haven’t been able to. Maybe I haven’t tried hard enough, or maybe sometimes, when someone steals your heart, you just don’t ever get it back.

I’m tired, and my heart aches with years of grief I’ve tried so damn hard to ignore. It’s time to face it and accept I will never rid myself of him. The one person who will forever linger within me but can never be mine.

I inhale, filling my lungs as I run my fingers over the bags underneath my eyes. I have to drag myself from this bed and get to it. Seth should be relieved, but he may not see it that way.

Still curled into a ball, I let myself roll to the side, hitting the bed. My phone vibrates on my nightstand. Reluctantly, I grab it to see who it is. Seth.

I ignore it. I can’t talk to him right now. The longer I wait, the worse it’ll be, and I should have done this long ago.

I force myself right side up again, pulling my hair back into a loose ponytail and straightening my T-shirt. It’s tattered and holey, but the most comforting possession I own.

I tug the neck up over my mouth. I wish everything was different.

My phone buzzes again, but only once this time, followed by a quick second. I grab it from my nightstand, focusing on the words.

SLADE: U ok?

SLADE: Krissy’s on her way.

I haul myself the four feet to my dresser, needing to get downstairs and make coffee before the house fills with questions about why I left the party. I know my mom will be here any minute, but Krissy will be a good buffer.

I tug the shirt over my head, tossing it aside, and pull on a sweatshirt. I force myself down the stairs, not even bothering to stop in the bathroom, even though I know I look like I’m in need of a rehab facility—one that specializes in compulsive lying. I wonder if it would be an in-patient facility. Maybe then I’d be excused from having to tell Seth our engagement was off.

“Well, you look like you’ve been dragged behind a truckload of shit. Are you hungover?”

Grandpa sits at the table with his coffee and newspaper, as he has every morning since I can remember.

I shove a single-serve coffee pod into the machine and hit the button. “No.”

I’ve not been hungover often, but I’d trade a good case of too much liquor for the emotionally sick feelings swirling in my belly. I shove a mug under the spout, and it clangs.

“Something crawl up your ass, then?”

I rest my back against the counter, turning to face the man who stirred the pot and left me to deal with the boilover. I slump in surrender, knowing he’ll understand. He might be the only one, so I need to spill it before my mom and Krissy get here.

“Grandpa, I need to tell you something.”

His gray eyes move to mine over the rim of his reading glasses. I slide my hands in the front pocket of my oversized sweatshirt. I know this man will support me, but it doesn’t make my admission any easier, so he’s the best person to test it out on.

He folds and closes his newspaper, waiting patiently.

“I’m not marrying Seth.”

I might be wrong, but I’ve known this man my whole life. Unless I’m losing touch with reality, I think I see the slightest hint of a smile.

“Ok.” He clasps his rough and worn hands, resting them on his paper. “Is that it? Anything else you want to tell me?”

I focus on my neatly painted pink toes, wishing I’d picked purple. “I’m not sure.” I don’t need to look at him to know that one of those overgrown eyebrows creeps upward again.

“Does Seth know? ”

“No. I’m telling him this morning.”

The coffee maker spurts and sputters beside me as it finishes its task.

“Well, shit. That’ll be fun. I guess you’ll need the morning off?”

I can’t help my soft smile. “Yes, that would be appreciated. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I never thought you should marry him.”

My head pops up. “You didn’t? Why didn’t you say something? You waited until last night to fill my head with all that Buick-Mustang talk, but didn’t think to say something before.”

“Would you have listened?”

My head falls to the side. “Maybe.”

He laughs his boisterous, low chuckle. “Pal, we both know you needed to see this. I’m just glad you opened your eyes.”

He sips his coffee while I stir enough caramel creamer in mine to double the quantity.

“Anything else? Hurry up before you have to break your mother’s heart with this news.”

I dread telling her about as much as I dread talking to Seth.

“Isn’t this enough?”

His eyes peek at me from the corner as he picks up his paper and pushes out of his chair. Oh, man. Here it comes.

He sets his mug in the sink, standing beside me. “Pal, you get yourself out of this little mess, and then it might be time to shit or finally get off the pot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His fingers run over his scruffy jaw. “It’s been long enough.” His voice is softer now. “I know you might need a little time, but you’ve got to stop this . . . just checking off the days. One way or another, you’ve got to start living, and there’s only one way you’re going to be able to do that.”

I stare at the floor, not needing this today. “Too much time has passed. He’s long gone, and after what I did . . . ”

He pats me on the shoulder, stepping away. “Maybe, but you’re never gonna know what time can do if you keep this up.”

He opens the back door, leaving me with his profound words of wisdom .

My lips tip upward, barely. They quickly fall when I hear him holler over the rumble of his truck. My mom walks in the back door in her daily black scrubs with her light brown hair twisted up in a clip.

“Hey, honey. I’m so sorry I didn’t catch you last night. One of the residents was having a bad night, and I got caught up. By the time I got there, Gail was making rounds and telling everyone goodbye. Seth said you left.” She frowns as she deposits my used-up coffee pod in the garbage and reloads it with a fresh one.

My mother is beautiful and vivacious. She has an addicting personality, and people gravitate toward her. She’s youthful, vibrant, and has a knack for attracting the wrong men.

She works at a long-term care facility, caring for those who can’t care for themselves. She’s amazing at her job. How she looks after the people assigned to her is inspiring. She’s just never been that attentive to me.

“It’s ok. I needed to get out of there. It was all . . . too much.”

She crunches the pod in the coffee maker and pushes start. “You feeling ok? You’re looking a little . . . ”

I sit at the table, preparing to destroy another one of my mother’s dreams. Before I can, Krissy steps through the door.

Slade has worked at the garage for as long as I can remember and is the big brother I never had. His sister, Krissy, is sweet and perceptive, and I need her to be on her game this morning. I’m sure he sent her to check on me, wanting to avoid any ‘girly shit.’ I’m thankful knowing how my mom will take this news, and I need backup.

“Morning, ladies.” She glances at me, raising one meticulously groomed dark eyebrow before setting her travel mug on the table and sliding onto a chair. “How are you?”

I pull my mug close again, needing the warm comfort and wishing I’d left my security shirt on underneath my sweatshirt.

“Oh, nerves are just getting the best of her. It’s only a few months, and you’ll be off relaxing in the sand.” My mom busies herself straightening the kitchen as if she’s speaking from personal experience.

“Actually—” I start, but Krissy jumps in.

“Slade and I looked for you last night.” She eyes me like she’s hunting for a hidden clue.

“I had to leave.” I peek at her carefully while she continues to study me. “I didn’t want to be there. ”

My mom’s entire body turns to face me. “Did something happen? Was Gail overwhelming you with details? I’ll talk with her and tell her that you’re nervous and—”

“I’m not nervous.” I blurt. “I’m just . . . not marrying him.” As the words leave my mouth, both women gasp, and it’s as if I can feel the oxygen being sucked out of the room. I force my gaze up. Krissy’s glossy lips hang open, and my mom stands frozen at the sink, disbelief written all over her face.

“What?” My mom’s question is clipped, and I close my eyes. “You’re just nervous, honey.” She sits next to me, placing her hands over mine. “It’s completely normal. It’s a big change, and lots of decisions are being thrown at you.” She pushes a strand of hair out of my face. “You need to get some sleep and—”

I cut her off. “No. This isn’t nerves. I can’t marry him. I should’ve never even been dating him.” The truth punches me in my stupid face. I rub my forehead.

My mom grips my hand tighter. “What are you talking about? Seth is perfect. How can you possibly think you don’t want to marry him?”

He’s not Mark. My hand slides over my mouth like I admitted it out loud. I slip my other hand from hers, resting it in my lap. Not making eye contact is easier, while everything Grandpa said consumes my mind.

“Well, ok,” Krissy says calmly, but I roll my head to the side to see her perfectly lined eyes as wide as saucers. “I didn’t see this coming.” Her eyebrows fall. “Or maybe I did.”

My mom ignores her, running a hand over my hair. “Honey, you to need rest and—”

I stop her, unwilling to listen to all the reasons why I’m not thinking clearly. “I know you think Seth is perfect, and he might be, but I can’t marry him. I don’t feel for him the way I should, and if I’d been myself with him instead of pretending to be someone else, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want to marry me either.” I hold my mom’s hand, comforting her now. “I should’ve realized this all sooner, but . . . ”

I stop myself because she won’t get it. My mom’s idea of success in life is finding a man and setting yourself up with money and security. Love is optional. This belief led her to the other side of the country while I was in high school, and it wasn’t until it all fell apart that she came home .

“Have you talked to him?” Krissy jumps in with a sympathetic tone.

“No, I’m going to see him this morning.”

My mom stands, moving back to the sink, frantically scrubbing Grandpa’s mug. “It’s too late for this. Things are being booked and arranged. What are people going to say? You’ll wake up tomorrow and realize it’s just the pressure getting to you.”

I can’t think about what everyone will think and say. Most of them don’t know me anyway, but still. My eyes meet Krissy’s understanding gaze, and I’m so grateful she’s here.

“Better now than after.” She pats my hand in comfort. “Anything Gail has arranged can be canceled. There’s still plenty of time.”

Gail is going to blow a gasket. I take a deep breath.

I push out my chair and stand. “I have to shower and talk to Seth. I’ve already let this go on far too long, and he needs to know.”

My mom reaches for my arm. “You don’t know what you’re doing. Seth is everything you could ever want. This is a huge mistake, and you’ll wake up a week from now and realize everything you could have had.” She grabs my hands, pleading. “This is your chance to have a life and future. With your issues, an opportunity like this doesn’t just come along every day.”

There it is. A quick jab in the gut. I inhale, pulling myself up despite feeling an inch tall. “That may be true, but I can’t marry him.”

“Alex, this is your chance. He’s perfect.”

But not for me. He’s not the one I want. He never has been.

“I know you don’t understand this, but he’s not . . . at least not for me.”

I leave her disappointed stare and carry myself upstairs to shower, hoping I’ll find the courage to face Seth and then figure out how to keep going when pretending isn’t an option anymore.

______

The glass door reads Chambers, Macavoy, Dunn & Associates , and I tug it open, entering the elegantly styled waiting room of the law firm. Thankfully, the receptionist, Marcy, isn’t at her desk, so I head down the hall to Seth’s office to make this as quick as possible .

Seeing his door open, I approach only to find Marcy resting her butt and thigh on the desk next to him as she leans toward his computer. It should irritate me, but it doesn’t. I don’t even care, which is exactly why I’m here.

My shaky hand knocks and Marcy quickly removes herself from his desk, redness tinting her face.

“Hey,” Seth says. “I tried to call you.”

“I’ll go check on that.” Marcy scurries out, and I step aside, letting her pass.

I shove my hands in my pockets. “I wanted to talk to you in person.”

He frowns and rolls his chair back. “Everything all right? You left so early last night.”

And you didn’t even call or come by to make sure I was okay. The thing is, I knew he wouldn’t, and I didn’t want him to. How did I let this happen?

My mouth feels dry as guilt creeps up my throat. “I can’t marry you,” I blurt out in a rush, scrounging for the courage I desperately need.

He laughs, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk. “What?”

My eyes meet the gray carpet squares. “I’m sorry. When you asked me to marry you, I shouldn’t have said yes.”

His chair creeks, and I peek up to see him leaning back, arms crossed now. “You just realized this?” He looks slightly amused, as if this is some kind of joke.

“Yes.”

His phone beeps and Marcy informs him that his buddy, Jeremy, is on the phone. He reaches forward and picks it up. I wrap my arms around myself, seeking security while I wait for him to finish his conversation about their tee time.

When he hangs up, his eyes meet mine again as he rests back in his chair, getting comfortable. “Sorry, I’m meeting the guys at the golf course this afternoon.”

I stare at him, wondering if he remembers what I just said. I inch closer, dropping my arms and giving my sweaty hands some air. “Seth, I’m not marrying you,” I say, feeling more confident.

His light brown eyebrows pull together. “And that’s it? We’re . . . not getting married.” His voice is calm but firm .

I cross my arms over myself again. “I can’t marry you, and I don’t think you want to marry me . . . at least the real me.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I risk another glance at him, and he’s staring.

“What does that mean, Alex?”

I don’t even know how to explain it, but I try. “I hated school. Did you know that?” I ask, knowing the answer. “It was really difficult for me, but cars make sense. I like working with my hands, getting dirty, and making broken things new. You think because I’m a woman, it’s silly or a hobby. Sometimes, I think you’re embarrassed by it. You try to explain it away as if there’s something wrong with me working in a garage.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear. My fingers land on my stud earring to twist. “It’s what I want to do for the rest of my life. I won’t ever hold an office job or something you find more . . . suitable. I won’t ever be a wife who sits at home, prepares meals, shops, or plans parties. I won’t be golfing.”

“I know you love working on cars, but our life will change once we get married. You won’t have to do that anymore or work at all.”

I inhale, frustration rolling through me that he’s not hearing what I’m saying. “I don’t like fancy dinners or clothes.” I peer down at my stained jeans and boots. “I’m terrible at socializing. You know this. Especially with strangers, but that’s part of your life and what you want. You love it. I hate it, and when I go out, I want to sit in a quiet bar and watch a ball game where talking is optional.”

He stares at me, unmoving.

“Those are all the things I should have told you on our first date and so many more. If I had, I’m pretty sure you would’ve never asked me out again.” When he still doesn’t say anything, I channel Grandpa. “Seth, why do you want to marry me?”

He sets his chair in motion, rocking slightly, and I assume it means he’s thinking. It shouldn’t be this hard.

“You’re beautiful and . . . different. You never expect anything from me. You’ve always been there, supporting me and encouraging me. You understand my long hours and when things come up. You let me hang out with my friends and never complain when I don’t make it over to see you or I have to cancel. You . . . ”

He stalls, and I give him a second to hear what he doesn’t say. “Don’t you think it’s weird we don’t spend that much time together? Last night was a party to celebrate our engagement, and we weren’t even together. When I left, did you even wonder why?”

He comes to his defense. “I was with my friends.”

My heart picks up pace as a heat wave washes over me. I speak softly. “I know, and that’s ok, but that’s probably not how two people who love each other would behave.”

“So, this is it, then? We’re just done,” he snaps, straightening in his chair.

“Seth, it’s been two years, and you don’t love me. You love the person you want me to be or who I let you think I am. You love that I’m around. Isn’t there a part of you that picked me because you knew it would drive your mom crazy, and I’m as low maintenance as they come? You like not having to be around me if you don’t want to.” He pushes his chin out but doesn’t say anything. “I should have seen this before now. I’m sorry.”

His eyes narrow, and the long moment of silence makes me itchy. I shove my hands back in my pockets, knowing I don’t have anything more to say.

Eventually, he leans forward, sitting tall and resting his arms on his desk. He clears his throat, his jaw set and jetting out. “I guess you’re right. I should be a whole lot more hurt than I am.”

I can’t tell if he’s being a jerk or having a revelation, but it doesn’t matter. I pull his ring out of my pocket and set it on the edge of his desk.

“I’m very sorry that I let things get this far.”

He scoffs, averting his eyes. “Me, too.”

I turn but stop in the doorway. “It’s my fault. I’ve spent years trying to be a lot of things. I didn’t mean to mislead you. You deserve a wife who is exactly who you think she is and doesn’t want to be anywhere else.”

I leave his office and walk straight out of the building, shame creeping up my throat and into my eyes. I climb into my truck and start the engine, but I sit, taking deep breaths to calm my shaking body. How did I get here?

I know how. I was trying to fool myself into believing I was over Mark and forcing myself not to love him. I couldn’t do it.

I said goodbye once, but I’ve never let him go. Grandpa is right. Somehow, I have to.