The next hour we talk about Lake Spark town gossip and roses. We would love to stay longer, but Margo needs rest.
As we wrap up our time together, Brielle and I stand. This time our hands connect of their own accord, my free hand sliding down her spine as she leans in to hug Margo.
“You look so healthy and happy,” Margo notes to us.
“Thank you,” Brielle says. “I’m glad to have seen you again.”
“Me too, and I know Ford will treat you right, he’s been waiting to be your husband for years.”
Brielle laughs. “Why do you say that?”
“Before he upgraded your rock, he had a cheap little one when you two were kids, but you know this.”
No, she did not.
Brielle freezes for a second or two before giving me a piercing gaze.
I ignore her for a moment. “I’ll call you later in the week, Margo,” I promise.
“Don’t be silly. You two have a week to yourselves without Connor. Go wild and never leave your home.” She winks at me.
I keep Brielle close as we walk to the car. I open the door for her, and she slides onto the seat, clearly agitated.
When I make it to the driver’s seat, she is quick to slide the ring off her finger and hand it back to me. “Why does Margo think you got me a ring when we were younger?”
Yep, saw this coming about one minute ago.
My lips press together as I tuck the ring into my pocket, unsure what to say, but honesty is the best policy. “Because I did. Before the appointment, I thought it could be an option. But then Margo walked me through the reality of you not having your dreams, and the next day, when we decided to keep Connor, then something inside me thought our choice was right, so I returned the ring. We were young, confused, and none the wiser.”
She sits there quietly for a second. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’m a selfish asshole who realized that you having support would be better, and you already looked like you were breaking.” I heave a sigh.
“Drive back to the house,now.” She’s insistent, but I can’t figure out if she’s more mad or sad.
I know better than to push her to talk. Brielle is more open when you are patient and let her lead. This is why our car ride back is a stiff silence with an old Goo Goo Dolls album playing, but I make no mistake that I hear a sniffle or two as she stares out the window.
My veins are filled with remorse for how today is going.
I’m unraveling us.
Which up to now was hard to do, as we were tightly wound in what we thought was right.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to contain myself from saying anything else. The last thing I want is for her to break. Hell, I don’t want her shedding any tears.
The road ahead is winding around the lake, it’s dangerous if I’m not careful.
Much like us.
But I keep my hands on the steering wheel, in control.
As soon as we are back at the house, I park in the driveway, and she storms out of the car. I follow her at the speed of light. We both stop in the middle of my lawn, clearly about to face off.
“Ford Spears, why are you torturing us?”
8
BRIELLE
