Page 84 of The Right Kind of Wrong

Even before they’d kissed, she’d known that Blake was miles out of Noah’s league. And it pained her, viscerally, that Blake couldn’t see that, too.

She turned toward Blake, catching her stare, imploring her to really hear her words. “Don’t do that. Don’t minimize your accomplishments or the things that make you you. The world will do enough of that for you without you making it easier. Just because Noah’s a jackass and your family’s drunk the Cypress Falls Kool-Aid doesn’t mean that you need to prop up their delusions.”

There. That was a great thing that a friend would say. Monroe didn’t have many of them, but she felt like she’d sort of nailed it.

She was congratulating herself on that fact when Blake’s lips turned downward, and a somber, serious look settled on her face. She bit her lip and took a deep breath, like she was trying to force herself to say whatever she was holding in. “The biggest accomplishment in this town is popping out babies, and that’s something I’m never going to be able to do. I can admit that I was probably never really, truly in love with Noah, but I’d always wanted a family. Which is a whole fucked-up thing in and of itself, that I’d marry a man I didn’t even like all that much, most days, just to have kids.”

Monroe waited for Blake to keep going, even as the tone in Blake’s voice was cracking something inside of Monroe. The depth of Blake’s sadness flowed so strongly toward Monroe that she felt it like a solid thing.

Blake hadn’t told her that she couldn’t have kids. Or that it was something she’d wanted. And now, the loss that she’d suffered—was still suffering—felt so much more present. She wasn’t just grieving a marriage; she was grieving a life that she’d probably fantasized about since she was young. The entire foundation she’d built her self-worth around had been scooped out from underneath her.

For all of Monroe’s issues, to put them kindly, she’d achieved what she’d set out to do in her life so far, even if she hadn’t exactly done so on her preferred terms.

“Maybe that’s my punishment in this life,” Blake lamented, playing with a piece of popcorn to do something with her fidgeting hands. She glanced at Monroe before looking away again. “I stayed with a bad person to get something that I selfishly wanted, and as a result, I’m never going to have it. And he got his mistress pregnant to boot, and now they’re living some charmed life.”

“Well, she’s stuck with him, so it can’t be all that charmed,” Monroe pointed out mirthlessly.

Because . . . wow.

She’d already thought Blake had been dealt an unfair hand, but this catapulted things into a stratosphere she hadn’t been prepared for.

In any other situation, she’d have run from instead of toward, but she didn’t want to do that with Blake.

She made sure Maisie was still within eyesight, and then she turned her full attention to Blake. “Do you really believe that? That you’re being punished for something?”

Blake swallowed. “Some days,” she admitted in a small, defeated voice. “And I know it’s irrational, but I’m so sick of being strong. Of pretending like I’m okay while people try to make me feel small. I hate that I let it get to me, but I can’t help it sometimes.” She wiped a lone tear from her eye and let out a steadying breath. “I heard through the grapevine that Noah’s wife had her baby last night. A boy, which I’m sure that he’s thrilled about. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this. Some days, the reality of my situation just hits me harder than others. I’m sorry that today happened to be one of those days.”

Monroe took a small step closer, into Blake’s personal space, so that the only distance between them was the bucket of popcorn, which was pressed into both of their chests. “It’s bullshit. I can tell you that much. And your logic falls apart because if it held true that people actually got what they deserved, your and Noah’s places would be reversed. Maisie wouldn’t have lost all the family that she has besides me. My mom wouldn’t have died before she’d ever really had the chance to live.”

Monroe hadn’t expected to bring up Maisie or her mom—definitely not to make it about her own struggles with the unfairness of the world—but she needed Blake to get it.

To understand that, sometimes, the world was a really shitty place, and it usually had nothing to do with anything we’d done to cause it.

“When I think about your mom and Maisie, yes, I absolutely agree with you, wholeheartedly.” Blake bit her lip, like she was trying to find the right words. “I woke up one day, and everything was different. And at first, different felt bad. Hard. Some days, it still does. But now, there are moments, like earlier with Maisie. Spending time with you. Finishing my degree. And they objectively make me feel good and satisfied and like maybe this all did happen for a reason. I just feel . . .”

Monroe waited, trying to focus on what Blake was saying instead of how her words were making Monroe feel—a little bit like she wanted to lean forward and wipe all of Blake’s uncertainty away, even if only for a moment.

But a kiss wouldn’t solve their problems. It would probably only add to them, so Monroe reined in her ill-advised thought.

Finally, Blake spoke again. “Sometimes, I’m just so damn mad that I could scream and howl at the moon. Curse at a god I don’t even believe in anymore, just in case they’re up there. And I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to be angry.”

“Blake,” Monroe said seriously. She grabbed the popcorn bucket between them and placed it into the cocoon of blankets in the truck bed so she could scoot closer to Blake. “It’s completely normal to struggle with things changing so quickly. Doubly normal considering that the man who left you less than a year ago now has a new wife and a baby with her. Being mad doesn’t make you a bad person, okay? I like that you’re a kind person, but that doesn’t always mean that you need to be nice. It doesn’t mean that you need to let people take advantage of that kindness either.”

Blake sighed softly. “When you texted me earlier, I was over in my house, wearing holes in the carpet from pacing back and forth.”

“Well, I’m always here if you need to howl at the moon with someone, okay?” And Monroe meant it. Whatever they were to one another, it was bigger than a single kiss or an awkward conversation or complicated feelings. “And if it makes you feel better, I’ll gladly egg Noah’s house with you.”

Blake managed a laugh. “So that we can both end up with felony charges?”

“Maisie would bail us out, but it would probably be with Monopoly money,” Monroe said with a lopsided smile.

The moment shifted as Blake leaned a little closer. Everything in Monroe seized, and she held completely still, wondering if Blake was going to close the few inches of space between their lips.

Did she want that? In her heart—and other parts of her body—the answer was a resounding yes.

But a part of her brain was registering, dimly, that it was probably a bad idea.

Her indecision was resolved for her, though, when Blake shifted back, smiling. “I’m really glad that you came back to town, Monroe. I know it wasn’t exactly on your terms, but I’m happy that you’re here.”