“What do you mean, that’s it? Is that why y’all lost touch? Have you talked to him since? What’s he doin’ now?”
“Uh-uh,” Mac said, shaking her head. “I held up my end of the deal. It’s your turn.”
Rory huffed. “That’s hardly fair.”
“Consider it payback for you not tellin’ us a damn thing about what’s goin’ on.” Mac lifted her chin toward Rory’s wineglass. “Drink up if you need to. Your time for secrets is officially over.”
Rory drained the rest of her liquid sanity and closed her eyes, sure it’d be easier to say if she didn’t have to look at them. If she couldn’t see their reactions. On an exhale, she said, “I’ve been sleepin’ with Nash since July.”
When nothing but silence greeted her, Rory cracked one eye open, then the other, and glanced between her sisters. Will stared at her with an open mouth, and Mac smirked.
Mac reached around and held out her hand to Will. “Pay up.”
“Dammit.” Will leaned back and pulled a twenty from her jeans pocket before slapping it in Mac’s palm. “Next time, tip me off or something, Rory, will you?”
“What the hell?” Rory split a look between them. “Y’all bet on my misery?”
Mac snorted as she pocketed the cash. “It was real miserable fucking him, was it?”
“That part? Not in the slightest.” Nothing at all had been miserable about that. It’d been enlightening and nothing short of life-changing for her. And it hadn’t been only the sex that’d done that. Rory took a shaky breath and pressed her hand to her chest. How could it feel tight and hollow at the same time? “It’s the aftermath that hurts so bad.”
She hadn’t cried. Not once since Nash had walked away had she let the tears fall. But as her sisters wrapped their arms around her, she couldn’t stop the tears now. She let them flow down her face as she told Mac and Will everything. From that night last year at The Willow Tree when Nash had sat by her after she’d found Sean cheating, until the night he’d stood right here on her porch before walking away.
On a quiet, shaky whisper, she admitted something aloud for the first time in her life. “I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you want to do?” Will brushed a hand up and down Rory’s back.
Rory shook her head. “It’s not that easy.”
“Says who?”
“Says life. Things don’t just happen ’cause I want them to.”
Mac raised a brow. “I legitimately thought that’s how things worked for you until I was about fifteen.”
Rory breathed out a watery laugh. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen here.”
“Okay,” Will said, “if there weren’t any obstacles standing in your way, what would you want?”
The answer came to her without thought. She’d want Nash in her life. She’d want him there to watch scary shows with and then join her in bed, where he’d wrap her in his arms and keep her safe. She wanted him there to teach Ella how to build furniture and repair sinks and encourage her curiosity instead of stifling it. She wanted his tips on how she could find a knock-off of the dream bed Ava wanted that would fit in her budget. She wanted his arguments and his challenges and his smiles and his dirty, dirty words. She wanted to never ask him for help, but to know he’d be there anyway, reminding her she didn’t need him because she could do it herself.
She wanted him. By her side. For always.
“Him,” she said simply. “I’d want him.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Mac asked. “He’s into you, Rory. I think that’s pretty damn clear.”
“That’s not what the issue is.”
“Then what is?” Mac held up her hand in question. “Because from where I’m sittin’, it’s a case of you lettin’ everyone else in Havenbrook decide if you get to be happy or not. I figured you’d gotten enough of that between Daddy and your ex-husband, but maybe I’m wrong.”
“Mac,” Will said, a warning in her voice. “Don’t push.”
“Fuck that.” Mac shook her head. “I’m pushin’. Because if the tables were turned, she’d push us.” Mac slipped one leg under herself and twisted to face Rory. “I’m not tellin’ you what to do or how to do it. I’m just tellin’ you maybe you should stop lettin’ other people dictate your life and go for what you want. How many times have you given up something because of someone else?”
Ballet. Her major in college. A career. Interior Design. Nash. Plus a million other small decisions that hadn’t even registered because it’d become so ingrained. For more than thirty years, she’d done exactly what everyone else expected of her because she’d thought that was what she had to do.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mac said. “If he’s what you want, I say fuck everyone else. Fuck the people who say you’retoo. Too old, too much, too demanding, too whatever.” She waved a hand in the air. “It’s all bullshit. You’re exactly the right amount. And Nash was the first man in your life to actually appreciate every ounce of that.”
