“Ben—”
He brushed past her, his long legs carrying him to the door quicker than she could follow. The crowd had now noticed him, and her following him. They moved aside, but the murmuring had only just begun. It suddenly didn’t matter, though. She just wanted to make things right.
He slammed through the door, and she got to it just as it was about to click shut. The weight knocked her back, but she trudged forward, the night air a cool relief from the sticky heat inside.
“Ben. Please stop. My legs are much too short to chase you.”
He slowed until finally she caught up. “Don’t make jokes,” he said, lacking any of his usual good-natured humor. Finally, he stopped moving altogether. “You lied to me. Joe didn’t say you couldn’t have friends come by, did he?”
Ben wasn’t stupid. She didn’t have to spell it out for him to realize she’d kept him a secret. “No.” She hung her head. “I didn’t know how to explain why I didn’t want you here.”
“Do your best now, or you won’t ever need to.” Such a simple ultimatum, yet so complicated. She knew Ben’s standards. After being lied to and cheated on by his ex-wife, he’d made it clear on their first date that honesty was number one with him.
She sucked in a deep breath, knowing her words could very well end whatever it was they had started. “I fell in love with Chad when I was thirteen. He’s the only guy I’ve ever dated. The only guy I’ve ever even looked at. This town is where we grew up. Those people are his people, and they expect—in some cases even demand—that I spend the rest of my life waiting for him to come back. No matter how great you are.” She pointed her index finger back and forth between them. “They will never accept the two of us.” Her hand dropped listlessly to her side. “Maybe I’m a coward, but I just wanted to live in our bubble as long as I could.”
A breeze whispered across her neck, sending goose bumps down her arms and legs. Ben inched closer and ran his hands up and down her chilled skin.
“I guess your reasoning makes sense, even if hearing it stings a little.” He didn’t exactly smile, but his mouth showed less of a scowl than it had before.
She tilted her head up to look at him. “In Fairfield, Chad will always be a ghost between us. It doesn’t matter that he’s been gone for so long or that we’re divorced. To them, I will forever be his wife.”
He flinched. “Please don’t call yourself that.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not explaining this well.” She shifted on her feet, half expecting him to walk away.
But instead, his hand cupped her cheek, his palm a warm print on her skin. “So I’m the only other guy you’ve ever looked at?”
She chuckled. “It’s the glasses. They sucked me right in.”
Ben smiled too, but it wasn’t one she recognized. She’d hurt him, and that wasn’t fair. “I really am sorry I misled you. This is all very different for me, and I don’t know how to navigate this new world.”
“Well, let’s start with something easy.” His hand fell to her shoulder, his thumb brushing the bare skin of her neck. “I don’t want you to keep me a secret anymore. Your friends may not like it, but eventually, they’re going to have to get used to the fact that you’re seeing someone else.”
“I know.”
Ben leaned down slowly. “Thank you for telling me the truth, even though some of it was hard to hear.” His lips were gentle, like his spirit, like his patience.
It wasn’t their first kiss or even their second. But this one felt alarmingly significant. Maybe it was being in Fairfield or her proximity to Joe’s, but as he kissed her, she felt her throat close and her eyes burn with unwanted moisture.
She tried to blame it on her guilt for having kept things from Ben when she knew what it felt like to be lied to. But deep down, the feeling was more like grief. The loss of something she’d never find again.
CHAPTER 7
Laila watched Ben’s car until its taillights disappeared. She knew she needed to go back inside the bar. Joe was probably drowning in orders without her, yet she couldn’t seem to make her feet move.
Ben wasn’t the only one affected by her calling herself Chad’s wife. Ever since the cursed words had left her mouth, her mind wouldn’t stop replaying that day.
“Ugh. I do not want to go to class,” Katie moans from her spot under the tree. “Why even have it? We’re graduating in two months.” She’s lying on her back, and her black hair is spread out around her like a halo. There are four rips in her jeans, which is against the school dress code, but they stopped sending her home when the principal realized she was doing it on purpose for just that result.
“Two months,” Chad murmurs from behind me. I’m tucked between his legs, and his arms are wrapped tightly around my waist. He leans down to kiss my favorite spot behind my ear and lingers for a second. “Laila Richardson.” He says it with eager anticipation. We’re getting married soon—the Saturday after graduation—and every day he reminds me we’ll soon have the same last name. “I wish we could just go do it today.” His hand gradually trails down my arm to the gold engagement ring on my finger. It’s thin, with only three small diamonds in a row, but it’s by far the most beautiful thing I’ve ever worn.
“Why don’t we do it today?” Katie sits up, her face full of renewed energy. “You’re both eighteen. Let’s go.”
“We have class, and we need a marriage license.” As usual, I’m the practical one. The one who barely manages to keep these two from chasing rainbows and leprechauns.
“Mr. Tolver owes me a favor. Ten bucks says I can get you a license in an hour.” She’s on her feet.
“How does he owe you a favor?” Chad’s skeptical, but I can see he’s starting to catch her vigor. That’s how they always are. One idea, then another, until they’re both doing something crazy.
“Let’s just say, I was in the right place at the right time, and the woman he was kissing was definitely not his wife.” She grabs my hand and tugs me up. “We’ll meet you at the courthouse at four.”
Chad jumps to his feet, and I can see his smile grow. He pulls me away from Katie and cups my face. “I love you. I’ve wanted to marry you since the day we met.”
My stomach flips when I see that look in his eyes. “I love you too.”
“Then let’s get married. Today.”
It’s March 28, but somehow that day seems perfect now. We have no house, no car, no stuff, but I don’t care.
“Okay. Today.”
Katie squeals, and we’re running to her car. I think she’s just as excited as I am.
Laila glanced toward the streetlight a few feet away, then across the road at the dimly lit realty office and coffee shop. The courthouse where they’d said their vows was just around the corner.
Her right foot scooted back and forth across the gravel until a line of dirt appeared. The breeze once again caused her skin to tingle.
They were just babies. She should have waited, should have listened to the warnings. But her love was blind back then, just like it had been for years afterward.
With a final sigh, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and turned back toward the entryway to the bar.
A silhouette leaned by the door, his foot propped up on the wall behind him. Her steps slowed until she could see Cooper’s hardened expression, despite the shadows around him. He pushed off the wall when she approached.
“How long have you been standing there?” she asked.
“Long enough to see you kiss the wrong person.”
She tried to edge past him, but he used his big body to block hers.
“Don’t do this to him, Laila. It’ll ruin him. All the progress he’s made will be for nothing.”
She wanted to slap him for making her the bad guy. “What progress? When’s the last time you’ve even spoken to him?”
“Joe just told me he called on New Year’s, and he was sober.”
“So?”
“So? He was sober, Laila . . . on New Yea
r’s.”
“Stop it. I’m done wishing. Done reading between the lines of every little scrap of hope just to convince myself that this time things will be different.”
He gripped her shoulders, forced her to look into his now-blurry eyes. It stopped her cold, the heartbreak in them. In the seven years she’d known Cooper, she’d never once seen him this broken. Not even when Katie had left town. “I’m begging you, Laila. Begging you . . . to try one more time. Call him. Just see if he’s good now. Joe has his number.”
“And what happened to the number you had? The one you used when you called to tell him Katie was back in town?” Cooper had begged her then too. Swore up and down that Chad would come home if he knew about Katie. “If I recall, you insisted he was getting his life together then too.”
Cooper glanced at the ground. “I should have known better. I should have known any news of Katie would send him spiraling.”
“Chad’s addiction is not Katie’s fault,” she practically yelled. “It’s not my fault or your fault. It’s Chad’s choice. One he’s made over and over.”
Three people stumbled out the door, forcing Cooper to release her. She wiped away the wetness on her cheeks. When would it be enough? When would she have cried enough to be over that man?
“Go home, Cooper. Sleep off whatever is twisting you up inside tonight and let this go.” She squared her shoulders, worked to stand almost as tall as him. “Ben is my boyfriend, and like it or not, that isn’t going to change.”
This time, when she went to open the door, he didn’t get in her way.
“What if Chad had come home?”
Her feet stilled and her body stiffened. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.” She swallowed and pulled open the door.
“You’re lying. To me and to yourself.”
She didn’t bother arguing, just shut the door behind her.
The crowd had thinned slightly, and to Laila’s surprise, Charity moved from customer to customer like a bee during pollen season. The reason was easy to see, even through the crowd.
Joe’s normal cheer had been replaced by curt order taking. He filled drinks, passed them along, and then moved on to the next order. A complete departure from his usual everyone’s family mantra.
Laila slipped behind the bar and took the next order. Side by side, they worked in silence, a silence so heavy it suffocated the room. Most of the bar’s patrons closed out their tabs and bolted to the doors.
When the room was down to ten customers, Joe snapped his fingers. “Charity, come take the bar. Eric, you’ve got the floor.” Without a word to Laila, Joe pushed through the swinging door and disappeared.
She’d worked with the man for almost ten years. She knew when she was expected to follow.
Trudging forward, she entered the back room and sat, feeling a lot like she’d been summoned to the principal’s office. Joe stood by the window, his back to her, his hands on his hips.
“You’re going to quit on me, aren’t you?” he asked without turning around.
She’d been avoiding this conversation, mostly because she knew the truth would upset him. The house was just the beginning. Eventually, Laila would sever all her ties to Fairfield. “I have my resume at a few places, but I won’t leave until I know you have a proper replacement.”
He spun around. “What if I made you a partner? You’d still get your salary and tips, but I’d add profit percentage, and let you take over the waitstaff.”
She’d never before seen him beg. It made something within her strain. “I can’t.”
He sat in the chair opposite her and leaned in close. “Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?” he demanded. “You know every corner of this place. You could serve in your sleep. Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”
“Okay, fire Charity.”
“Done.” He shot to his feet, and Laila had to grab his hand and tug to keep him from bolting to the door.
“Sit down, Joe. I’m kidding. You don’t need to fire her.”
He returned to his chair, looking far older than his fifty-three years. She took his hand in hers and squeezed. “This job was never meant to be my lifelong profession.”
“I know, kid. But we’re your family, and this feels a lot like you’re running away.”
Maybe she was. But after all this time, it was definitely her turn.
CHAPTER 8
The buzz in his head started slowly, then continued to grow louder and louder until his consciousness could finally decipher reality from dream. Chad pried his eyes open, flipped onto his side, and grabbed the vibrating cell phone off his nightstand.
Darkness leaked into his room, confirming what his groggy mind was telling him—it was the middle of the night. He pressed the round button on the bottom of his phone and flinched when his screen flashed bright. He’d missed four calls from the same number.
Awareness came slower than usual, so it took him a few seconds to register that the three-digit area code wasn’t from Atlanta or the surrounding area. It was from Fairfield.
Chad swung his legs off the bed, and his bare feet hit the thinning carpet. Still gripping the phone in one hand, he rubbed the sore muscles in his chest with the other, hoping to wake the rest of himself up. His body was tired. His mind was tired. Neither of which were good when facing his past.
He studied the number closer and vaguely remembered dialing it many times when he could barely stand upright. Cooper.
Chad gripped the phone and pressed his eyes closed. There was a reason he hadn’t called his old friend since entering rehab. They were too much alike. Shared too many of the same triggers. They also shared the same propensity to let anger rule their emotions when alcohol was involved.
Yet all the same, Chad felt his finger slide to the “Call Back” button. If Joe had given out his number, then it had to be important.
Cooper answered after the first ring. “Hey.” He said it like he hadn’t been the one to call four times in the middle of the night. “I was hoping you’d be awake.”
“I wasn’t, actually.”
“Oh. Okay.” He’d been drinking, heavily. Chad could hear the slur in his voice, the effort to sound lucid, the catch in his throat that often came with his drunken anger. “So, you’re still in Atlanta, I guess.”
“Yeah. I’m still here. Is there a reason you called?”
“A reason?” Cooper’s voice turned sour. “You really have the audacity to ask me that?”
Chad tightened his fingers around the phone. He didn’t need this kind of drama right now. “How did you get my number?”
“Great question. Maybe Joe thought I should know you’re still alive. It’s been months, Chad. Where the hell have you been?”
He took a ragged breath, his anger edged out by guilt. “Rehab. I checked in a week after you told me Katie was home. Been sober nine months now.”
The line went silent for just enough time to make Chad wonder if the call had less to do with him and more to do with his old friend. Awake now, Chad tried to think of how Mark would deal with the situation. “What’s going on in your head, Coop?”
“Nothing,” he said, but his voice begged to differ. He sounded exhausted, and not the kind that came from sleepiness, but the kind that Chad often felt when he’d reach for the bottle. “Joe said you were doing better. I wanted to hear it for myself.”
“At one in the morning?”
“It’s a Saturday night. I figured you were out.”
“If I were out, I wouldn’t be doing better, now, would I?”
“No, I guess not.”
Heavy silence fell between them again. In such a state, it wouldn’t surprise Chad if Cooper passed out talking. “Coop, you still with me?”
“Yeah. I’m here. Just trying to understand why you aren’t.”
“I have my reasons.” Reasons that still haunted him when he slept. Reasons that had him working every hour he could at the hardware store just to ea
rn the money he needed to get out of the mess he’d made. “How’s everyone doing?”
They both knew he was asking about Laila.
“You sure you want to know? Nine months sober, and you don’t call her?”
“I told you, I have my reasons.” If Chad could reach through the phone and strangle his friend, he would. “Just tell me how she’s doing.”
“Why?” Cooper’s voice turned hard and sarcastic. “Your life is so freaking fantastic now. That’s all that’s ever mattered anyway, right? You and Katie. The two suns in our little universe.”
Chad responded with equal aggression. “Is this really why you called? To make me feel guilty for getting clean?”
“What do you want me to say, man? You’re asleep on a Saturday night. You’re sober. Bravo. Good for you. Be sure to send us a postcard when you go get married to some preacher’s kid.”
Chad shot to his feet. “What are you talking about?”
“You, Katie. You’re the same selfish person. Maybe Laila was right to move on and forget about you. You’ve obviously forgotten about us.”
Chad pushed down the rising nausea. “What do you mean, that Laila’s moving on?”
As if Cooper could sense the shift, he too lowered his voice. “A guy came to the bar tonight.”
Suddenly, Chad couldn’t breathe. He pressed on his sternum and rubbed. “To see Laila?”
“Yeah, to see her. She kissed him right outside Joe’s, for the whole town to see.”
“She kissed him?” He gulped, but his mouth was so dry he had nothing to swallow. Cooper was wrong. She wouldn’t betray him. She loved him. She’d always loved him. “Are you sure?”
“I saw it with my own two eyes.”
Chad couldn’t speak. He stumbled through his bedroom door, counting each step to the bathroom. He pressed his palm to the wall, using its sturdiness to support his weakened legs.
“And then I defended you.” Resentment laced each word. “I begged her to give you another chance. But she knew. Somehow she knew you wouldn’t care. I guess I’m once again the fool.”
Chad couldn’t hear anymore, not through the blood roaring in his ears. He pressed “End,” let the phone drop from his trembling fingers, and fell to his knees. Hands gripping the toilet bowl, he shut his eyes, willing the churning in his stomach to stop. But the words pushed through.
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