“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I say in a small voice just as my phone starts playing an annoying techno beat from down the hall with an incoming call.
“It matters to me,” he softly replies.
Shaking my head in denial, I take one giant step back. Then another. The ringing stops and starts up again, and I know it’s Mason trying to reach me for our video chat.
“I need to get that. Please don’t be here when I get back.”
Jordan stands like a statue, still and unmovable, those piercing aqua eyes settling on me like an anchor and following me as I retreat from the room.
After all, running away is what I do best.
Chapter 14
Jesus. The broken way Douglass looked at me, like I had torn open her chest and ripped out her heart—like I had caused such irreparable damage, it would never function properly again—is something that will eat me alive for as long as I live.
And I still don’t know what I did to cause it.
Fuck me.
I raze a hand through my hair and glance around the small kitchen, feeling more lost than I ever have before. I just want answers. Something. Anything. It’s the not knowing that’s driving me bat-shit crazy.
Not wanting to upset Douglass any more than I have, I walk back out onto the patio to say goodbye to Natalie and apologize once again for dropping by unannounced.
“Your mama and I used to sit out here for hours on this porch, gabbing away about the most recent town gossip and drinking mint juleps,” Natalie says into the darkening dusk of evening as she rocks back and forth.
Caught off guard at the abrupt trip down memory lane, I collapse into the rocking chair next to her, needing a minute before I leave. I’m tired from a long day, too little sleep, and a good dose of emotional exhaustion.
“You two surely made quite a pair,” I comment.
She chuckles. “That we did. I miss her. Every day.”
“Me too.”
The serenade of cicadas buzzes loudly from the post oak trees, their discordant, deafening music advancing and ebbing like a physical wave.
As soon as I move to get up and make my goodbyes, Natalie says, “She was the love of my life.”
The hands I had braced on my knees, ready to push myself up to stand, lock in place and I freeze. Not sure I heard her correctly, I ask, “Pardon?”
Natalie turns to meet my confusion, giving me a slight, knowing nod. “I loved her.”
I take in the woman who I’ve known most of my life.
Holy shit. My mom and—Natalie? That revelation should shock me more than it does, but honestly, when I think about it, it makes sense. Mom never married. Never even looked at another man as far as I knew. She and Natalie were always together. Always laughing and hugging and smiling. But I’m confused about where my bio dad fits in. Mom clearly had sex with him or else I wouldn’t exist.
“But what about Phillip Montgomery?”
Natalie’s laughter is soft and husky. “There is a thing called bisexuality, Jordan. And Phillip was years before she and I decided to give a relationship between us a go.”
I think my mouth opens and closes a dozen times before I’m able to speak again.
“How did I not know?” I say more to myself than to her.
All that time and I never suspected.
“We were good at hiding that part of our relationship. Small towns. Small mindsets. And no one’s damn business,” she replies. “It didn’t matter. We accepted it.”
That’s the second time in the last half hour I’ve been told something very important doesn’t matter.
