“You could’ve gone after her. Could’ve cornered her and told her all this.” He shakes his head, disapproving but not angry. It almost seems like he’s trying to tell me I still have a chance instead of telling me to get lost. “You said you were too scared to say anything before because you didn’t know how she felt. You know how she feels now. Why are you still being a coward, Cross?”
That’s the truth of it, isn’t it? Even after all of this, I’m still too scared to ask for anything I want. Terrified to drag Jenny down with me, undeserving of a chance to do this right because I know I’ll still be the same chicken-shit kid who can’t get his life together.
“I don’t deserve it,” I say quietly, dropping my eyes back to the ground. “I don’t deserve her. She’s got so much going for her. She could do better. She deserves better.”
Wayne hums thoughtfully, leaning back on the bench. “Awful funny way of saying that you don’t care enough to change for her.”
I jolt upright, my brows drawing together in fury. There’s a challenging spark in Wayne’s eyes, and my blood boils at the thought that there’sanythingI wouldn’t do for Jenny.
“That’s not what I fucking said,” I snap, shoving off the bench to glare down at him. “I could be the best person in the world, and she’d still deserve better. I’d work myself to the bone, change everything about myself if that’s what it took, and I still wouldn’t be enough. Ihurther, Wayne. I’ll never forgive myself for that. She should have someone who makes her happy, not… not a fuck-up who’s hurt her twice now. I love her, I’d do fucking anything to fix this, but what if that’s not enough?”
A heavy thud sounds from the mouth of the barn, and I whirl on my heel reflexively.
Barely thirty feet from me, a broken bag of grain spilling over the concrete at her feet, Jenny stands silhouetted by the early evening light. Her mouth is open in shock, eyes wide and locked on me.
The realization that she heard me slams into me like a freight train. Howmuchdid she hear?
Fuck, I wanted to tell her properly, this can’t be how it goes. I have to do this right.
She dashes off before I can get a single word out, disappearing around the wall, and I drop my half-full beer to the ground. Wayne will have to clean it up, I’ll make it up to him later. I can’t let Jenny walk away this time.
I can’t lose her.
Wayne reaches out and grabs my elbow before I take more than a step, and I turn to lash out at him, but he stops me before I can start yelling.
“I’m not telling you not to go after her, but don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lucas.” He looks me over, his eyes hard and unforgiving. “You’re right that you hurt her. You fucked up. I didn’t sit you down so you could go running back to her and fuck up again. Go into this with a plan or not at all, you hear me?”
My frenzied panic deflates, and I nod slowly.
As much as I want to run out the door and get down on my knees and swear to do anything she asks, he’s right. I can’t throw promises like that around. If I can’t do right by her, I don’t deserve to have her.
It’s time to make the changes I need to and become someone who deserves her. No more excuses. No more mistakes.
If I don’t want to lose her, I need to get my ass in gear.
I’ll do whatever it takes. No matter what happens, from here on out, I won’t hurt Jenny again.
JENNY
My plans to ignore Lucas entirely are going great this time around.
All I had to do was get my heart ripped to shreds.
It was bad enough thinking he didn’t care at all, but overhearing him with Wayne only made it worse. Even after the spiel he gave my brother, hestilldidn’t come after me. It shouldn’t surprise me that he’s all talk, but I can’t pretend it’s not a knife to the gut. Whatever, add it to the rest he’s left there.
It’s been two days since I stumbled in on them in the barn, and he hasn’t said a fucking word to me.
I’m eagerly awaiting another day of avoiding eye contact and fighting back tears every time I see him in the fields, which is why I’ve been sipping on my coffee for the better part of an hour instead of getting a start on my day. Ilikeincredibly bitter room temperature coffee. Swear. I’m not hiding from anything.
Thankfully, Dad and Mary are too wrapped up in their usual morning routine of being sickeningly in love to pay much attention to the way I’m brooding.
They move around each other in the kitchen like they’ve been at it their entire lives. Soft touches linger on arms and hips, softer kisses shared as Mary gets cups down and Dad fries themup a few eggs. He glances over at me and nods toward the pan, silently asking if I want one, too, but I just grunt and shake my head. I’m not in the mood to talk, and I’m certainly not in the mood to eat.
He and Mary start up a quiet conversation, nothing particularly important, and I zone out, watching a few bubbles float around the surface of my coffee. I fall into an endless spiral of hurt and anger, my brain torturously reminding me of every moment I’ve spent with Lucas since he got back. It’s not until they’ve finished their breakfast and are cleaning up that I come back to reality.
“I’ll see you for lunch, sweetheart,” Dad says, kissing Mary on the cheek as she’s rinsing dishes off. “Have to go make sure the kid’s not getting up to too much trouble. He’s picking things up fast, might actually be a good addition to the team if he keeps it up.”
The kid.
