Collie’s eyes soften as she shakes her head, urging me to continue. “You’re doing great, Easton. Keep going.”
“Right,” I exhale, building up the much-needed courage. “Like I was saying…I was engaged. And now I’m not. It’s all really messed up and a long story.”
“I figured something along those lines. But we havetime,” she tells me kindly. “You can trust me. I promise I’m like a vault. My mother made sure of it.”
I make note to ask her about that another time.
“Is that why you were in a suit at the airport? Not that being in a suit is off-putting, but it wasn’t exactly neatly tailored,” Collie asks, genuinely curious.
My lips quirk, remembering how fucking deranged I looked that day. My appearance was light compared to the conflict I was battling in my chest.
I nod. “The day before was my wedding day. It obviously didn’t happen.” I hold up my empty ring finger and continue, “But I almost went through with it. It just didn’t feel right. None of it did.”
I think most women would take this as a sign to pry and ask deeply personal questions about everything, but Collie makes it simple. Her question, although deep, doesn’t feel as personal as it probably should.
“Do you love her?”
A month ago, I would have answered yes as if it were scripted out for me. But today, the answer feels as easy as breathing. “No. I never did.”
“Then why marry her?”
And there it is.The question I’ve fought myself over for years. Since Ben died and every day after.
“Because I promised Ben I would.”
I see the surprise on her face, and I can imagine what she’s thinking. Collie sets her mug on the ground and lifts her folding chair to place it directly next to mine. She keeps a comfortable distance, but my guess is this is her way of showing me she’s here. She’s not invading or being forceful, but setting respectable boundaries with an openness for me to cross over if I choose to.
For someone who was deprived of so much love by her own mother, she’s incredibly empathetic.
It’s really fucking cool of her.
“What did you promise Ben?” her soft voice asks just above a whisper.
My head lifts, finding the most sincere woman looking at me, not like I’m broken glass, but like she’s the exact replica of my kind of shattered.
Collie’s putting herself in my shoes and allowing me to rest in her.
I’m not alone in this.
“I promised Ben I’d look after his fiancé.”
“Sydney?”
I nod. “Sydney and Ben were engaged before he died. She was going to be his wife.”
I know my situation is fucked and confusing, but watching tears fill Collie’s eyes makes me grateful I asked her to come on this trip. Her small hand reaches to grasp mine. “Can I ask how everything happened after Ben’s passing? I can’t imagine navigating that was easy for you. Or Sydney.”
Again, I nod, praying like hell talking about it helps me somehow. “Coming to terms with Ben’s death was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. He was my twin and best friend. It felt like losing a chunk of myself. But even though he loved me the same way, Sydney was his entire world. The three of us grew up together in Salt Hollow. We were best friends until things with them became more. Imagine loving someone your entire life and then suddenly that person is gone. Sydney and I both went through that together. At first, it was easy with her. I didn’t have to fake it because she was already someone I deeply cared about. But I was neverinlove with her. It makes sense when I really think about it.Loving her like a sister who was in love with my brother. Sadly, we got it twisted.”
“God. I can’t even imagine losing Capri. I’m so sorry you lost him, Easton. And for everything else in between.”
“The whole thing was unfortunate, and I struggled for a long time. So did Sydney. But before Ben died, he asked me to promise him I’d take care of her. I took that promise as bible and took care of myfriend. I’d mow her lawn, fix things around the house, take her to appointments when she couldn’t get out of bed some days. I helped her however I could. Eventually, everything started to blur. I realize now that I never processed my own grief until these past six months. I would be driving and randomly get these epiphanies out of nowhere. They threw me for a fucking loop and started to get more frequent, but again, I was too worried about breaking the promise I made to him. I was in too deep. Until our wedding day, when everything came to a head.”
“Did you promise Ben you’d marry her, Easton?”
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t.”
“Then why did you almost do that? Taking care of someone is much different than marrying them.” There’s no judgement in her voice, just curiosity as to how we shifted to the direction of marriage.
