Keeping Him

by Kennedy Fox

  I force a smile. “Truthfully? No.”

  Stepping aside, Addie opens the door and lets me in. Her house smells like cookies, and I see Stranger Things paused on the television. I sit on the couch, and she immediately comes to me and stares at my black eye.

  “Jackson and Trent got into a fight. I got into the middle of it.” I motion toward my face as an explanation.

  Her mouth falls open.

  “I know.” We sit in silence for a moment.

  “Why were they fighting?” she asks.

  “Because I was touching Jackson when Trent pulled up. I guess. He’s been so jealous and insecure when it comes to Jackson. Now it’s just getting out of hand.”

  She lets out a huff. “Do you blame him, though?”

  I glance over at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” She laughs. “You look at Jackson like he’ll rope the moon for you. Even after everything, even with that ring on your finger. I’m sure Trent notices it, too, because everyone else does.”

  “Jackson and I aren’t anything. You know that.”

  She nods. “I know. But switch positions with Trent. What if there was a woman who everyone knew he had a thing for, and he was constantly around her, touching her, seeing her every week. Don’t you think you’d be pissed about it too? I can’t blame him. Add in some testosterone and fighting over you is the only solution.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “Whose side are you on anyway?”

  She chuckles. “You didn’t deserve to be punched in the face, but I’m sorry, I kinda have to take Trent’s side on this one. Play devil’s advocate a bit.”

  The silence draws on, and I think about what she said. I try my best to put myself in his shoes, to reverse the situation, and I do understand where he’s coming from, but there’s more to it than just that.

  “The fact that I’m marrying Trent and will spend the rest of my life with him should overrule anything else. It should be enough. I don’t ever plan on getting a divorce. I want to have kids right away. When things are good between us, they’re really good, like the stuff fairy tales are made from. But when they’re bad, it’s like a nightmare, because it’s to the extreme.”

  Addie gives me a small smile. “Who are you trying to convince here? Me or yourself?”

  I need to hear this, all of this, because I’ve been so caught up in my perspective that maybe I haven’t given Trent’s a second thought. Guilt washes over me.

  “What should I do?” I look around the room at the pictures of her and Landon together. They’re happy, carefree, and the love and admiration they have for each other just oozes from the frames. What she has is relationship goals.

  “Girl, I have no idea what you should do. Maybe think about Trent when you’re around Jackson. Remember why you’re marrying him in the first place. If you two keep on down this path, there’s no way this marriage will end happily. Trent isn’t a monster. He’s a nice guy, good-looking, has his shit together, and not too long ago, he was everything you ever wanted. So my question to you is what happened between now and then?” She stands up, goes to the kitchen, and comes back with a plate of cookies. I smile and grab one, though I feel like I’ve been eating sugar all day. But it’s definitely what you do in the South. Offer cookies and cake. Though what I really need right now is a drink.

  I think about her question and replay everything that’s happened this year.

  “A lot,” I answer truthfully, taking a bite. They’re still warm. “I haven’t told a single soul about this. But he apparently had a kid with another woman, and I just found out about it, after being together for two years. I honestly don’t think he would’ve told me if I hadn’t stumbled across some things. I thought he was living a double life. Money was disappearing every month. I’d overheard strange phone conversations. So I’m still having a hard time dealing with the secrecy of it all because now it’s created trust issues. We were working through that, and then this happened.”

  Addie stops chewing. “What?” she asks with her mouthful. “A kid? Oh my God. So does he see his kid at all?”

  “No. He just writes a check each month for child support. If it were up to him, he’d rather pretend it wasn’t a thing and just ignore it altogether.” I watch her face contort from confusion to anger.

  “Now I’m speechless.” She hands me another cookie. “It’s like everything I thought about him—”

  “I know,” I interrupt her, not wanting to hear the rest of her sentence. I’ve been feeling the same way, that maybe everything I knew about him is a lie, an act, that maybe the man I fell in love with isn’t reality, and I’ve been blinded by his charm all this time.

  “Do you still love him?” she asks.

  Reluctantly, I nod. “Yes, without a doubt,” I say. “Even through all the deceit, lies, and fighting—I do love him. We have history, and I care for him deeply,” I admit. “We’re going through some rough patches, but I think we can get through them. I hope at least.”

  She smiles sincerely. “No relationship is perfect. You just have to decide if it’s worth fighting for.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. It’s a lot to process.” I grab another cookie and know if she doesn’t take them away, I’ll eat them all. I think back to the night of our fight when I learned about Maggie. It still hurts, knowing he kept it from me, but I also know he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me that way. The past few months have seriously tested our relationship, and with each test, I can only hope it brings us closer at the end. We’ve been together for two years, and there will still be things to learn about each other for months and years to come.

  The day after our big blowout, I told him I needed time to trust him again. We waited until we were both calm to sit down and talk it through without getting angry with one another. I asked him to tell me everything, and he walked me through all the events from how he found out about his daughter to why he never tried to have a relationship with her. It’s hard for me to comprehend, so it’s something we still disagree on, but I have to let him live with his own choices on that one. It’s something we’ll have to continuously work through, and I’d hoped we were moving forward, but now that he blew up on Jackson for just being around me, I’m not sure where this’ll take our relationship.

  Eventually, Addie changes the subject, noticing I don’t want to discuss it anymore and turns on the TV. We sit and watch an episode of Stranger Things though I have no idea what’s going on. As soon as the baby starts crying, she stands, and I do too. I give her a hug, and she squeezes me tightly.

  “Thank you so much for listening and talking it out with me.”

  “Anytime.” She releases me and smiles. “If you want to do another wax session before the wedding, let me know. My treat.” She winks, and I snort in response. Fat chance of that happening.

  “I’m going to head out. I need to talk to Trent. And hopefully, he’s cooled down by now.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  On the drive back home, I take in everything we talked about. Addie’s smart, levelheaded, and doesn’t always take my side. If I want Trent and me to work out—which I do—I’m going to have to meet him halfway on his feelings, and I realize I haven’t been.

  His truck is still parked in the driveway, and my nerves get the best of me. I swallow hard, gaining the courage I need to walk up the porch and go inside. As soon as I open the door, I see him on the couch sleeping. I go to him, bending down until I’m close to his body. His eyes flutter open, and he just stares at me.

  “I’m so sorry.” My voice seems small and insignificant.

  “I am too,” he says, opening his arms and pulling me into them. “I’m so damn sorry. I love you so much and am afraid of losing you.”

  “I love you too.” A sob escapes me, and I look up into his eyes and kiss him. He pulls me onto his chest and holds me.

  “I’m not giving up on us,” he says, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

  I lay my head against hi
s chest and listen to his heart beating. “I’m not either.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jackson

  A few weeks have passed since the fight with Trent, and I haven’t seen Kiera since. I can’t help but think she’s written me off for good, and Dr. Douchebag has finally gotten his wish. Things between us are tense, and the last horse that was supposed to be delivered was brought by Alexis. She’s avoiding me at all costs, and I’m half tempted to drive over to the Lazy Y Ranch and see what’s going on, but I don’t. If this is what she wants, so be it. I can avoid her too.

  After my workday is over, my mind is all over the place. Knowing I can’t sit around, I grab a bottle of whiskey and tuck a few logs into a backpack. I hike the mile to our secret spot, drop the wood into the metal fire ring, and light it. Once the wood is popping, I sit on the ground, crack open the whiskey, and watch the flames dance.

  My mind wanders back to a different time, and I replay the memory like it was only yesterday.

  * * *

  Kiera is dancing and singing as loud as she can to a Dixie Chicks song talking about a runaway bride. Lately, she’s been bringing a little radio with her out here to help drown out the silence. I actually like the sound of nothing; it relaxes me, but she insists it gets boring, and I always agree to whatever she wants—which is why I’m listening to this crap. It makes her happy, so I can’t complain. She’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt and her favorite cowboy boots. As she dances around, I can’t take my eyes off her. The song finally ends, and she plops down next to me.

  “That song is horrible,” I tell her.

  “No, it’s not. It’s my favorite song in the whole wide world,” she says, smiling.

  “But have you listened to the words?”

  Kiera giggles. “Yep. She’s gonna be ready to ditch that weddin’ and have some fun. Every girl’s dream.”

  My face contorts. “Whatever. When I marry someone, they better not run away like that. Can you even imagine?”

  She snort-laughs. “I don’t see you ever getting married, Jackson.”

  “Same about you, Pippi. Not with how gross your farts are!” I lift her braid and let it fall down against her back.

  Kiera rears back and socks me in the arm, and it actually stings. “Ow, fuck.” I rub the spot.

  “You deserved that one!”

  “I’ll hit you back.” I joke with her, but she knows I’d never do that. I’d never hurt her, and I’d beat up any boy who does. I’m protective of her, just like I am of my sister, and everyone at school knows it, too.

  “Whatever. When I’m older, I’m going to marry a rich guy who can buy me everything I want. Expensive barrel racing horses and real leather boots that match my saddles. I’ll have a minimum of one hundred horses, and I’ll hire all these trainers to live on my property to train them and keep all my horses fit and in good shape. Then I’m going to have a huge horse trailer with sleeping quarters and travel around America winning championships and beating records with all my horses. And I want like six kids when I’m old, like twenty-five.” She laughs. “I hope he’s a doctor and really hot. And mega rich. Wouldn’t that be cool?” Her eyes light up, and she seems as if she’s lost in this make-believe dream world.

  Even though I’m fourteen, I know I’ll never be a doctor or have tons of money. I plan to work on the ranch just like my dad and maybe train horses when I grow up. It’s my future and what I was born to do.

  The sun is starting to set, and I put some more wood on the fire to keep the area lit. Kiera glances over at me, and I feel something in my body. I swallow hard, thinking how pretty she looks, but I know I shouldn’t think those things. She’s supposed to be like my sister, but my thoughts about her aren’t very sisterly.

  “What about you?” she asks. “What kind of girl do you want to marry?” Kiera takes her hair out of the messy braids. She tucks the waves behind her ears and stares at me.

  “I’m never getting married,” I joke. “But when I meet the girl of my dreams, I’ll know.”

  I already do.

  She playfully rolls her eyes. “Well, if for some reason, when we’re like forty and if both of us are single, we should just get married to each other. That way we won’t be old hermits with all of our horses. Deal?”

  I smile. “You’d marry me?”

  “Only if I were old and desperate,” she says, giggling. “It’d be like marrying my brother or something, and that’s kinda gross.” She doesn’t even have a brother.

  “Gee, thanks.” I place my hands behind my head and lean back and watch darkness fall. Kiera does the same. We lie there until the fire dies out, listening to the soft sounds of the country music playing in the background. When we finally sit up, I can’t help but feel like I’ll never be good enough for Kiera. I’ll never be able to make her happy, and she deserves every silly thing on her list.

  * * *

  I take a huge gulp of whiskey, trying to push the thoughts away. I’ve always felt like I wouldn’t be good enough for her, and her being with Trent is proof that I’m not. I guess she got her doctor after all.

  Leaning back, I place my hands behind my head and stare at the bruised sky. Soon it’ll be dark, and hopefully, I’ll be drunk enough for all these thoughts to disappear.

  I close my eyes, and Kiera’s face is all I see. And the thought of her hurts.

  “What the hell are you doin’ out here?” I hear a voice behind me. I sit up on my elbows, realizing how much whiskey I had when the world slightly shifts.

  “Shut up, Colton,” I say, but my speech is slightly slurred.

  “I’ve been lookin’ for ya everywhere.”

  “Why?” I ask. “I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”

  He stands over me. “Looks like you’re drinking yourself stupid thinking about Kiera.”

  “Pfft.” It’s all I can say.

  “Wanna talk about it?” Colton genuinely asks, but over the years, I’ve found it better to just pretend there’s no issue.

  I smile and wave him away, but I think he sees through it.

  “Come on, let’s go out,” he suggests.

  I look up at him and let out a huff.

  “It’ll be fun. And I’m buying.”

  He tucks his hands in his pockets, and I feel bad for not wanting to be his wingman tonight. “Fine. But you have to swear on your balls that if you do decide to go home with some chick, you’re bringing me home first or getting me a hotel room to sleep off the hangover.”

  He chuckles. “That’s a lot of damn demands.”

  I stand and stumble. “My way or the highway.”

  Colton steadies me, so I don't fall. “Fine. That’s a deal, boss.”

  “Then let’s go. I’m ready to drink your entire paycheck.” I point toward the sky and let out a loud yeehaw.

  “Fuck,” Colton whispers under his breath, realizing what he just agreed to.

  After throwing some dirt on the fire, we walk back to my house. I change out of the clothes I’ve been wearing all day, then I grab a beer out of the fridge and chug it before Colton leads me out the door to his truck.

  “Where we goin’ exactly?” I ask.

  “To the Honky Tonk. Apparently, it’s ladies’ night. And I’m looking for a lady.”

  I groan. “That’s all the way in San Angelo. You might as well go ahead and rent two rooms in the motel next door.”

  Colton smirks. “Probably will.”

  It takes almost an hour for us to get there, and by the time we arrive, I’m hungry. But as soon as I see all the pretty ladies wearing blue jean skirts, I couldn’t care less about food.

  “I knew that’d get your attention,” he tells me, opening the door to his truck and stepping out. I follow him into the bar, and the place is packed. Instantly, coming here doesn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

  Colton grabs us two beers, and we scope out the place. The dance floor is full of couples, and so is the bar top. Eventually, some people leave at the end of the bar,
and I walk over and take a seat. Colton joins me, but soon, he’s approached by a pretty redhead, which seems to be his weakness these days.

  I’m left alone to my thoughts until someone comes up beside me and takes Colton’s seat.

  I look over at the blonde who’s showing enough cleavage to be scandalous and classy at the same time. She smiles at me. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” I tell her and look back at my drink. She reminds me of Kiera with her strawberry blonde hair, and I hate how the thought crosses my mind. I must be broken because I don’t even feel like chatting with her because their features are so similar. Why couldn’t she be a brunette?

  “Why so sad, cowboy?” she asks, then orders a drink from the bartender.

  “Who said I was sad?” I ask.

  “Are you?” She gives me another smile.

  “No. Just tired and hungry, and I’m playing wingman for my friend.” I turn around and spot Colton on the dance floor, two-stepping.

  She shrugs. “Do you dance?”

  “Not really,” I lie. The last time I danced with someone was Kiera at Emily’s wedding. I swallow hard, thinking about how she looked at me and how she felt securely held in my arms. Fuck, I need to get her off my mind.

  “A cowboy who doesn’t dance. You’re a rare breed.” She takes a sip of her pink drink and looks at me with sparkling blue eyes.

  “I might dance.” I smirk, remembering my old motto of the only way to get over someone is to fall into someone else's bed. Maybe this woman is exactly what I need tonight after all.

  “Change of heart. I like that.” She stands and goes to walk away but then stops. “Are you comin’ or not?”

  I smile, chug the rest of my drink, then follow her onto the dance floor. Within moments, she knows I was lying about dancing. I pull her tight little body into my arms, and we two-step across the room. She holds on to me and allows me to take the lead, and I realize she’s not too bad of a dancer herself. The song ends, and she’s gleaming at me.

  “What’s your name, cowboy?”