It’s a photo of Bentley. Bentley James Evans. Born eight am this morning. Six pounds even.
And the tears come like rain all over again.
I tap out a “congratulations!!” with plenty of emojis and even send a bunch of hearts.
He’s cute and looks identical to Sarah when she was born. I quickly pull up a local florist and order a gift basket full of candy and cookies along with flowers to be sent to her room. I know how much she loved the cookies last time, and I’m sure the girls won’t mind the candy. Part of me wants to go visit her, but I’m not sure I could handle it right now. Not with feeling as badly as I do. I don’t want to bring my black cloud bullshit into their happy moment.
So I tell myself and Britt I’ll see them when they get settled at home.
She sends me a stream of photos with the girls holding their little brother, and I can’t help but think about Jordan.
About the words that stopped my heart from beating. I don’t know how we got onto the topic of weddings and marriage, because I barely heard any of the conversations. All I could focus on washim.
I told myself it was what needed to happen. I needed to rip off the band-aid.
His girlfriend raved about the two of them wanting to get married, have kids. All that white picket fence bullshit.“Isn’t that right, honey?”she’d asked him.
But he didn’t answerher.
He stared at me with those deep, amber eyes and he said,“Yeah, that’s right.”
I know he was just answering her. Trying to play the part. Not be a dick, all things considered.
But my stupid fucking heart wanted to believe he was saying it tome,even though I knew it was a lie.
For the briefest moment, hope reared its vicious head, and I couldsee it.
Jordan looking hot as fuck in a tux, waiting for me. I already know he looks fine as hell in a suit, so it’s not hard to imagine. But the other stuff…
Building treehouses in the woods and painting the nursery in my house that remains empty because Britt told me tomanifestmy dreams…
It’s the only room in my house I never finished because it didn’t feel right. So I shut the door. It’s been shut for nine years.
It’s why I hate coming home to my fucking house. It’s why I avoid it as much as I can.
No one but Britt knows I bought this house because I thought one day I’d fill it with the things I wanted more than anything. But those dreams died when I left Ashbourne, and now they’ll never come true.
Because love, marriage, a family…
It’s not for guys like me.
It’s for guys like Jordan and Austen. Guys who areworth it.
I told myself I could handle this. I’ve been here before. But this hurts so much worse than it’s ever hurt before.Because I never loved those men.
I realize I have a couple missed texts from my Dad and a few from Austen.
Dad asks if I’ve heard from Austen. I groan, knowing Austen’s in New York, but he doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s up to. Apparently, he’s buying a building for his video game thing he’s been working on for years.
I swore to keep his secret, but that was before I ruined my fucking life.
Again.
When am I going to fucking learn? Probably never.
I shoot a text off to Austen and tell him to text Dad so he doesn’t have a fucking heart attack. I can’t deal with him right now.
My mother texts me too.
