Then his eyes meet mine, and I know I made a mistake. He doesn’t want me here.
Chapter 25
Nash
It takes everything in me to steel my features. Every muscle flexes, forcing me to stand there and look unfazed at the sight of Betty. She’s here on my property, waltzing up to my front door, arm in arm with River.
Her shoulders roll forward as a sure sign of defeat, averting her gaze from my face. I haven’t seen her since the rodeo. My life seemed to fall apart overnight, and I needed to handle it all. I had to shove her to the back of my mind, or I would have said, fuck it, and handled none of it.
I haven’t been accountable to someone in over eight years, and even before then, in my marriage, I wasn’t accountable to Katherine. I told her I had something to handle, and she waved me off with a smile. There was no explaining myself or checking in. Betty isn’t the same, though. It’s written in her eyes how much the distance has hurt her.
I did not intend for my actions to hurt her, and when Gray said they were bringing her, I finally had to sit down with myself.At first, I tried to lie to myself. We’ve been texting over the past few weeks. Then, scrolling through my text messages, there were only five from me and a dozen from her, most of which I didn’t even answer.
So I tried to lie to myself some more. Someone surely told her I was out of town on business and that my mother’s failing heart landed her in the hospital. It was no one’s responsibility but mine to be honest with her. I’d asked that woman to choose me, and then I disappeared. I’d hate me too. In fact, I do. Betty is the last person I would ever want to hurt.
“Come in,” I gesture to her and River, while Gray juggles their luggage. Shaking my head, I jog down the four steps, taking the smallest suitcase from him. I remember her stashing it in the corner of her room at the Miller house.
“Thanks,” Gray grunts, hiking his duffel over his shoulder, then rolling what must be River’s suitcase.
“Glad you guys made it,” I clap him on the back in a half-hug as he steps into the entryway, dropping the bag. My insides twitch having people I care about in my home. Other than Hunt, no one has ever been here. Not my parents or my sister’s. It was too far for my parents to get away from the farm, and my sisters had no interest in carting their families to the other side of the country.
Anyone else who has been here was nothing more than an acquaintance. Self-consciousness tightens my stomach now. This house is so impersonal. There aren’t photos or trinkets anywhere. It’s meticulously clean to the point it could be considered clinical.
There’s not an ounce of me inside these walls, and that’s just sad.
“I had plenty to keep me awake,” he chuckles before River swats his arm.
“One more time, Gray, and…” She doesn’t have to finish the sentence before his spine snaps straight. His eyes flare wide,pleading with his wife to take it back. It’s great seeing the guy’s fun side alive again, but his wife has him by the balls, and I think that’s even better.
“Uh, where can we put these?” Gray clears his throat, his words escaping at a pitch he probably hasn’t hit since his prepubescent years.
“Follow me.” Picking up Betty’s suitcase again, she reaches for it, her fingertips grazing the back of my hand.
The electricity that has always sparked beneath my skin at her touch nearly brings me to my knees.Fuck, I’ve missed her, but what do I say? She looks so dejected, and after pushing her away so many times, I can’t imagine she’ll take me back again. Maybe she’ll at least hear me out. Accept my apology. Even if she’s not mine, I refuse to lose her in my life. The Hugheses are part of home for me.
“I can carry it,” she whispers, avoiding my gaze.
“Not in my house,” I retort, picking up the pace down the hall to the rear stairwell.
Gray remains at my heels as we ascend the stairs. This house is usually so quiet. Any noise comes from me. It’s as unsettling listening to Gray and River playfully bicker about something I’m not paying attention to as it is inviting. That could have been Betty and me, but I fucked up.
“This is you,” I point to one of the guest rooms on the opposite end of the house as my bedroom. From what I know about the two of them, they’ll need the privacy, and so do I.
“Thanks, Nash,” River pats my shoulder before entering the room. “I need a nap.”
Then Gray grins my way and closes the door.
We haven’t even turned away from the door before River giggles, and the sounds of them making out filter through the door.
“Come on,” I wave Betty behind me.
She follows silently. I can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking. It’s as if I can sense her coiled shoulders at my back, surely staring down the many doors we’re passing. Three of them were additional guest rooms, but I lead her to the opposite side of the house. My end of the house.
There’s one bedroom next to the master. The architect insisted we’d want a room for an eventual nursery since we were a young couple who would surely want a family. We’d barely unpacked our boxes before Katherine furnished the room as just another guest room. That was my answer.
We’d talked about kids, and though it wasn’t something she wanted anytime soon, I had hope moving into our forever home might open her up to the idea more. The moment she decorated that room first, I knew it wouldn’t, so I cast that dream aside and forgot about it.
The aesthetic is a match for the rest of the house, done up in dark shades and muted whites and creams. Once again, the term clinical comes to mind. It’s decor you’d find at a hotel, not a home.
