"Tell me everything, Sabrina. And tell me right shitting now!"
10
Beau
It's freaky seeing Rein's name pop up on my phone, like someone long dead trying to reach me.
We exchanged numbers before going our separate ways after our chat this afternoon. He said he was going to speak with his dad and get back to me. Looks like he wasted no time doing that. Makes sense. Corey's offer expires at 4 p.m. tomorrow.
Rein:You free to meet now?
I'm both free andveryinterested to hear what the old bastard had to say. Or, rather, what lie he concocted because while I may have suffered a severe concussion, I know for certain I didn't send Rein any damn letter.
I message back, saying to meet me at a diner in Clovelly so we can talk without any gossipy Gilbertonians eavesdropping.
Half an hour later, we're sitting across from each other at a booth in a near-empty diner.
"I take it you spoke to your dad, then?" I say, taking a sip of Coke. I can only imagine what sort of bullshit story I'm going to be met with.
"Actually, no. I couldn't get hold of him. But I spoke with Sabrina, and she…enlightened me."
"About the letter I never gave your dad?"
He nods tensely. "You're right. It never happened."
Now is not the time for me to pull my customary duh face, so I listen with raised eyebrows as he explains. "It's no secret there's no love lost between our families. You, me, and Granny are the only ones immune to it."
"That's because we're the only three normal ones," I mutter, taking another sip.
He cracks a nervous grin and keeps talking. "I knew my parents disliked you, but I always processed it as them not hating you personally, that it was more because of the family you belonged to. My way of compartmentalizing it and making it less personal, I guess." He scratches his arm. "That was wrong of me. I realize that now. Especially after what Sabrina told me they did."
"Which was?"
"They used our accident to drive a wedge between us. They forged two letters, one from you to me, the other from me to you. My letter from you said you hated me for what happened, couldn't forgive me for ending your career, and never wanted to speak to me again. My letter to you asked how much would it take for you to drop the matter and not sue. That sound right?"
"Correct," I whisper, thinking back to reading that letter and how completely it shattered me. The best person in my life had turned on me, succumbing to a version of himself that was just like the rest of his greedy, heartless, shallow family. Fuck everything and everyone, all that matters to any of them is money. Pure, simple, and disgusting.
My parents, Mom especially since the feud comes from her side of the family, are, for the most part, over having lost out on what was rightfully theirs. They see it as more of her grandparents' fight than theirs. Doesn't mean they like the Winkelmanns, though, and the way they flaunt their wealth and give so little of it back to the community they've benefited so much from. It still rubs them, and a lot of people in town, the wrong way.
I have a ton of questions, including one very practical one. "What about my handwriting? You said you could tell by looking at the letter it was from me. How do you explain that?"
"Apparently they hired a professional to recreate your writing and mine," he says, sounding and looking like he's hadthe wind knocked out of him. "I swear on my life, Beau, when I reach them, I willunleash. This is—" A gust of air whooshes out of him. "Unforgivable. The type of shit that makes people cut all ties with their family forever."
His words drop like a weight. I wish I were the type of man to counter with something like 'This isn't worth losing your family over.' But I'm not, because one, his parents are legitimately assholes, and two, they fucked both of us over supremely. What they did cost us our friendship, which is precisely what they wanted.
And why? Because of some grudge against my family? Then again, why am I surprised? They're exactly the kind of people who put money and power and ego above all else. Including, it seems, their only son.
"You have every right to be mad at me?—"
"I'm not mad at you, Rein. Not anymore. Not now that I see you were played and manipulated by them just like I was."
"But they're my blood. I can't help but feel responsible."
I take a minute to steady my racing heart. "I've learned that in life we have no control over what anyone else does. All we can do is control how we behave and how we respond. That's it. The rest you have to find a way to let go of."
"But how?" His left eye is twitching, and my chest aches seeing how much this revelation has hurt him. "How do I ever forgive them for what they've done? I've never loved anyone as much as I love you, Beau, and they took you away from me for fifteen shitting years. I-I-I don't even know where to begin processing this."
A tear slides down his cheek.
