“Wrong,” I said. “Though, she doesn’t know it.”
“Explain.”
I did.
Koen looked pissed as hell when we were finished. “Boone’s mother?”
“Boone’s ‘mother,’” I agreed.
“What a fuckin’ shit show.” He shook his head as he pressed a button on his car’s steering wheel. “Call Boone.”
“Ruh-roh.” I rolled my window up and started the car.
As we pulled away, both of us were fairly quiet until I pulled up to her cottage.
“I wasted eight years denying the feelings that I had for Sol.”
I released my seat belt then turned to look at her. “Yeah?”
“I hate myself for those wasted years,” she reminisced. “I despise that I ever thought it was a good idea to wait until he was out of the military. I hate that we missed exactly 2920 days that we could’ve been together. Could’ve started a family earlier. Could’ve laughed and cried together. Could’ve made so many more memories.”
I looked down at my lap, knowing where this was heading.
“What if he died tomorrow, Nettie?”
My stomach cramped.
“What if you woke up tomorrow, walked into his room to find out where he was, and he was dead?” she asked. “What if he goes through a bear attack like your own sister did while at work? What if he gets in a car crash and dies, and you’ll never know what it’s like to call him your husband?”
Bile burned its way up my throat.
“I’m dying, Antoinette. And it’s my dying wish that you’ll pull your head out of your ass and finally put my grandson out of his misery,” she said. “It’s not his fault that he loves with all of his heart. His worst sin is thinking his mother was a good person. You can’t hold that against him. Not and look your baby in the eyes and tell her that you’re a good person, too.”
Boone called right then, making my belly twist.
“He won’t be mad at you,” Margery promised.
Except, that was not the case. He was mad.
Big mad.
Thirteen
That awkward moment when you sing the wrong part of the song with confidence.
—Boone’s secret thoughts
Boone
Anger was my constant friend the rest of the day.
That anger morphed to rage as I pulled into my driveway and saw the text message from my mother.
I didn’t bother looking at it until I got inside and collapsed onto the couch, exhausted and soul weary.
I wanted nothing more than to delete that message from my mother, but the thumbnail of the video had me frowning and clicking on it despite my better judgment.
Terror clawed its way through my veins as I sat watching the video from our past as Nettie stood with her body in front of the players. Protecting them from a gunman with the only thing she could wield—her body.
