“Yeah, personally, that remains to be seen.” I’m not trying to be mean, but I’m not ready to just forgive him yet.
“Well, I’ll be around if you want to get lunch or dinner, or ice cream.” She turns toward her truck, and I watch her drive away.
Sleep. I just need to sleep and wake up in the morning with a better idea of how to handle everything. Hopefully, I can deal with it and not have to look for a new job because I don’t even know where to start with that.
Chapter 13
Ledger
What a fucking nightmare. I knew it would be bad news when it eventually came out that I had been lying, but I somehow convinced myself it would all be okay in the end. That she would already be madly in love with me, and it wouldn’t be a huge deal.
Jesus, how delusional am I?
The problem is, I didn’t think. I didn’t consider what would happen if we got closer and how she would feel knowing I’d lied to her. I didn’t think about anything except the fear of rejection and my own insecurities.
And here I thought I was past all of this bullshit.
Nope. Instead, here I am, sitting on my front porch trying to figure out how to get Ainsley to just talk to me again. Forgiveness? I’m not holding my breath. I certainly don’t deserve it.
Now, I just have to figure out how to make her comfortable with me enough to stay on as my assistant. I don’t want her to feel like she needs to quit because of my stupidity.
A truck pulls down my driveway, and I see it’s Rina again. I already said my piece earlier. Talking to her again is just going to fray my already fucked-up head.
She parks and climbs out of her truck.
“Not tonight, Rina.” Isigh.
“I know. But I brought beer.” She holds up a six-pack. “Can I just sit with you?”
I motion wordlessly to the rocking chair next to mine. She plops down next to me and cracks a beer, handing it to me before doing the same for herself. We sit in silence for a while. That’s the nice thing about the two of us—although I took on a lot of the responsibilities when our parents died, Rina really kept the younger two from going feral. She helped with routine and getting them places on time. Lord knows I couldn’t have done any of it without her, but sometimes it was just overwhelming. So we would sit outside, drink a beer in silence, and internally reflect on the hard-ass days.
“I’m sorry, Ledg,” she whispers, barely audible over the sound of crickets chirping in the field next to my house.
I sigh again, trying to figure out how to put how I’m feeling into words.
“It’s not on you, Rina. Should you have taken it upon yourself to set this up? No. But the bigger issue is me not telling Ainsley who I was from the get-go.”
I think about how I thought Ainsley was the ultimate girl back in high school. She was smart, pretty, and the limited times I interacted with her made me feel like I wasn’t just some outcast. Made me feel like my shyness and awkwardness weren’t going to deter me from having a life I wanted. I connected this idea of dating Ainsley with turning me into the man I wanted to be. And I clung to it. I fell into that habit when I realized she was back in town, and I fucked up. This isn’t on Rina—it’s fully on me.
“I just … want to see you happy. You’ve taken care of everyone for so long, sometimes I think you’ve just given up on yourself. Ainsley is the first person since the nameless wench who’s lit up your entire face. You’ve smiled more in the past few weeks than I can remember in the past fewyears.Willow and Lennox don’t see the toll everything has taken on you,but I do. I just wanted to do something for you for once.” She tips her beer can back and takes a long draw.
You know what’s scary? Having your younger sister see so much of you. The parts you’ve tried to push down and not allow your siblings to see because you never want them to feel like a burden. The weariness in every decision, trying to make sure you don’t fuck them up beyond repair.
Yeah, Rina’s not the fuck-up here, I am.
“I don’t know if I can fix this,” I finally say.
“If it helps, I just spent a couple of hours at her house, and she forgave me.”
I laugh at her sing-song tone. “Yeah, somehow, I don’t think what I did is as forgivable as what you did.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” I down the rest of my beer.
“You know, this closed-off act isn’t going to win any awards. You want my advice?”
I don’t, but she’s going to tell me anyway.
