Won't Miss You: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (We Shouldn't Book 4)

by Lilian Monroe

  Why can’t I let go? Why can I not reconcile those facts with the idea that they’re our parents, and we should at least attempt to have a relationship?

  Looking at the phone in my hand, I let out a sigh and find Benji’s number. Before I press ‘call,’ though, I hesitate. Lucy meets my eye for a moment, then turns away and heads down the hallway with her son.

  Benji will understand.

  Right?

  25

  Benji

  “I don’t understand.” My voice is flat. I stand in the middle of the airfield hangar, staring at the wall and seeing nothing. “What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

  “It’s just for a couple of days,” Rae says. Her voice sounds tinny. “I have to see them before they leave.”

  “Why, though?” I frown, raking my fingers through my hair. “Why now? Why not go meet them in Milan in a week? A month? Next year? Why do you have to miss the party?”

  “Their lawyer is getting them to sign the papers tomorrow, Benji. I need to be there. They want to transfer the house to me.”

  “So you’re going to collect your inheritance? Is that it?” I frown, wondering why my chest is suddenly in agony. I rub my sternum with my palm to get the ache to go away.

  “No.” She sighs. “That’s not it at all. It’s just my last chance to talk to them before it’s all finalized. I don’t want the house, Benji. I want them to come here and meet Lucy, Roman, and Sawyer.”

  “Right.”

  “I’ll be back in a few days,” she says.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Please don’t be mad.”

  “I have to go. Finn’s waving me down to do the final checks on the plane. We have a full day of jumps today.”

  “Benji…”

  “I have to go. Have fun in Texas. Bye.” I hang up the phone and throw it in a desk drawer, leaving it behind as I head toward the aircraft. My heart beats erratically. My head is a mess.

  None of this makes sense.

  Why does she have to leave now? Doesn’t she know that Saturday is a big deal to me? Why is she putting her shitty, selfish parents ahead of me? Who cares about the house?

  I swallow back bile, not wanting to admit my worst fears.

  It all comes down to money.

  Her parents called, promised her the house, and that’s more important than anything that could be going on up here. More important than Sarah’s party. More important than being my date.

  More important than me.

  She’s just like my father, my mother, Harold, and everyone before them. She chooses money over integrity every time. Convinces herself she’s doing the right thing, but I know the truth. It’s greed. Plain and simple.

  Rae can tell herself she’s going down there to try to reconcile with her parents, but we all know that’s not true. I’ve heard the way Sawyer talks about them. I know they disowned Lucy when she was pregnant with Roman.

  They’re not the type of people who magically change their minds and become good parents. Retirement doesn’t alter someone’s brain and give them a different personality.

  Doesn’t Rae see that?

  Maybe it’s me who’s the fool. I wanted her to be someone she’s not. I craved some kind of companionship, and I saw qualities in her that don’t exist.

  She’s the person Sawyer said she was, way back before I met her. Selfish, self-absorbed, and always putting money ahead of everything.

  Finn claps me on the shoulder and I jump, snapped away from my thoughts.

  “You okay, bud?” His eyebrows tug together.

  I nod. “Fine.”

  “Something on your mind?”

  I almost tell him about Rae, but that would mean admitting I cared about her. Cared. Past tense.

  It could be a blessing in disguise that she’s leaving before the party. I don’t have to tell anyone that we were involved. We can just part ways, ignoring the inferno that burned between us.

  Someone who leaves town to go collect a paycheck when she knows this weekend is important to me isn’t the type of person I want to be associated with.

  I glance at Finn, shaking my head. “All good. You ready to do these jumps?”

  Finn stares at me for a few moments and finally nods. We head for the plane together, and my heart rages inside my chest.

  My mind tugs at me, asking me to call her back. To talk to her. Explain how important this weekend is to me. Ask her why she feels like she has to leave.

  But my feet carry me toward the plane, and I leave those thoughts behind, locked in a drawer beside my phone.

  Finn’s eyes are on me as I fumble to do my final checks, so I do my best to pull myself together. I put Rae at the back of my mind, buried under layers of defenses. I lock up the way she makes me feel in a heavy steel locker, and then I stuff it down to the dark recesses of my heart.

  When my mind is clear, my hands stop shaking. I glance at Finn, who looks satisfied.

  We load up the customers into the plane. I listen to their excited chatter, hearing nothing.

  When I get home that evening, I almost expect Rae to be there. Maybe she changed her mind. But all I find is a packet of store-bought chocolate chip cookies on my front porch and a note that just says, They’re not homemade, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry.

  I throw the whole thing in the trash.

  Cookies? Really?

  She misses the most important event I’ve ever planned, and she thinks a couple of shitty store-bought treats will make up for it?

  What Rae doesn’t understand is that she’s shown me her true colors. By leaving, she’s told me exactly where her priorities lie—and they’re not with me.

  But my house feels too quiet, and my thoughts are too loud. I take a quick shower, change, and head down to the Blue Cat Bar, hoping a few drinks will settle my nerves and smooth over my breaking heart.

  I sit at the bar and order a beer, hunching my shoulders and feeling just as bad as I did the first day Rae came to town.

  And just like that first day, Harold slips into the seat next to mine. I look at the old man, with his deep wrinkles and kind eyes, and my heart squeezes.

  “How are you, son?”

  “I thought you’d left.” Just like everyone else.

  Harold gives me a smile, waving a hand at the bartender and ordering a beer. He wraps his hand around the glass, sighing. “Not before this weekend. Couldn’t miss the party. You and Sarah were like children to us. Louise would want me to stay.”

  Pain pierces through my chest as a lump grows in my throat. Even Harold—who has every right to leave and has always been straight about his intention to retire on the road—stayed. When he puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes, I know he understands how important this weekend is to me.

  He delayed his cross-country trip for me. Stayed in town for me. Realized that it was important to me.

  Why can’t Rae see that?

  I take a deep breath, trying to chase the demons out of my head. Harold takes a gulp of beer, then lets out a sigh.

  “Four years since Louise died,” he says. “And I miss her every day.”

  I grunt. “So do I. She was more of a mother to me than anyone else.”

  Why is it that everyone who cares about me leaves? Everyone who gives a damn just drifts out of my life, and I’m left standing on my own?

  “It’s lonely without a good woman,” Harold says slowly. He glances at me, his eyes digging into mine.

  I take a sip of my drink, not knowing what to answer.

  “You don’t seem like yourself,” he continues, his voice low.

  “Don’t I? I feel more like myself than I have in weeks. Maybe I forgot who I was. Maybe I forgot what people are like. How little you can trust them.”

  “Is this about the Montgomery girl?”

  I snort, shrugging. “I think it’s more about me. I can’t believe I let myself think she was a good one.”

  “Don’t ruin a good thing if you don’t have to, Benji.”

>   “I’m not the one ruining anything,” I snap.

  Harold grunts, and I regret my tone. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s true, though. My phone is silent, and a few chocolate chip cookies and a scribbled note isn’t going to fix the fact that Rae isn’t here. She left. Took off. Went to get her inheritance because she just couldn’t wait a couple of days.

  How could I think she ever cared about me? How stupid could I be?

  She never cared about me. She probably wanted to get on my good side so I’d run the garage for her. Wanted to use me to smooth over her relationship with Sawyer.

  Or maybe she just wanted to get laid. How the hell should I know the inner workings of her mind?

  All I know for sure is that Rae Montgomery never truly cared about me or what’s important to me. If she did, she’d be here this weekend.

  Harold says a few more things, but I barely hear them. I know he’s trying to tell me to try harder. Not to break up with Rae. To look for a deeper connection and fight for it.

  “I’d never seen you as happy as you were these past few weeks, Benji,” Harold says. “Everyone noticed.”

  “Yeah, well, I was an idiot.” I drain my beer.

  “Are you still being a grumpy asshole?” a voice calls out behind me. Finn is striding toward me, his arm slung around Esme’s shoulders. “You nearly scared away all our customers today.”

  “He’s doing his best,” Harold replies, nudging me with his shoulder.

  “Nothing wrong with that.” Esme grins, her black lipstick curving up at the edge. “Being grumpy is a skill.”

  “Don’t encourage him.” Finn laughs. “And Benji, you’d better wipe that scowl off your face before this weekend, because I was promised a party. I don’t want you moping around the corner on Saturday.”

  “I have to go.” I throw some bills on the bar and jerk my chin at the three of them, ignoring the drawn eyebrows and concerned stares.

  I don’t need their worry. I don’t need their pity.

  I definitely don’t need their jokes and their fucking happiness. The last thing I want right now is to be surrounded by people who are in love and looking forward to the next stage of their lives.

  They’ll probably just leave me, too.

  Rae is gone. She made her choice. Good riddance. I won’t miss her.

  But hey, at least I’ll have a party to go to on Saturday.

  26

  Rae

  As the plane touches down in Houston, my stomach drops.

  This feels like a mistake.

  I know Benji’s mad at me, but what choice do I have? This is my last chance to talk to my parents before they leave the country. The last time I get to beg them to come meet their grandson.

  It’s my last chance at bringing my family back together—at least for now.

  Once they leave, I don’t know when they’ll be back. It’ll be harder to get them to come back.

  But the passengers on the plane start disembarking, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I check my phone for the thousandth time, but there’s still no message from Benji.

  He should have gotten the cookies and the note by now. I was hoping a small gesture would let him know I’m thinking about him.

  Apparently not.

  I get off the plane and walk in a daze toward the exit. My parents’ chauffeur is waiting for me, and all of a sudden, I feel like I’m in a different universe.

  I’m no longer in a small town, surrounded by kindness and friendship.

  Now, I’m surrounded by money.

  I nod to the driver. “Hi, Cliff.”

  “Miss Montgomery,” he says, dipping his chin. He reaches for my carry-on suitcase and gestures toward the sliding glass doors.

  My gut twists.

  The chauffeur treats me like royalty and I should be flattered, but mostly I just feel uncomfortable. It’s only when I’m back here that I realize how pleasant it was to be in Woodvale. I wasn’t Miss Montgomery there. I wasn’t my father’s daughter, heiress to his fortune.

  I was just Rae.

  And I had Benji.

  As Cliff opens the back door for me and I slip onto the expensive leather seats, I glance at my phone screen again.

  Still nothing from Benji.

  I should just text him, right? Call him? Make sure he doesn’t hate me?

  But I hesitate.

  He sounded hurt when I called him earlier. Maybe he just needs some space. I know how important the event tomorrow is, and I’m sad to be missing it.

  As we drive onto the freeway, I stare at the night sky and the expanse of concrete around me. The wide, multi-lane freeway is pretty empty at this time of the night, but it still feels like an alien planet to me.

  This isn’t where I belong.

  I’ve traded lush trees and windswept cliffs for traffic, overpasses, and concrete. This city doesn’t make my heart sing. The money and career waiting for me here don’t cause me any excitement. I lean my head against the headrest and try my best to push those thoughts aside.

  I’m not here to live the life my parents want. I’m here to speak to them. Beg them once more to come back with me. Plead with them to reconnect with their other children.

  This feels like my last, best chance to reconcile my family. Once my parents leave, who knows when they’ll be back? They’re getting rid of all their American assets, and I’m pretty sure they’ve been stuffing money away in an offshore tax haven.

  And the house?

  I don’t care about the house.

  But it’s a good excuse to come down here and get them to listen to me.

  As we make our way toward the mansion where I grew up, my heart starts to thump harder. I check my phone every thirty seconds, and finally stuff it into my purse.

  Benji’s mad. He has a right to be. I need to give him space.

  But he’ll come around. He has to.

  He loves Sarah, and he’s starting to reconcile with his father. Doesn’t that mean he’ll understand what I’m trying to do here? Don’t I deserve the same chance he gets?

  He knows I care about my family above all. He has to understand. Has to.

  As we pull up to the tall wrought iron gates outside my parents’ home, my mouth goes dry. The fountain at the end of the drive is on, spraying a tall arc of water thirty feet in the air. Cliff drives me up to the front door, where the half-dozen white marble pillars stand proud in front of the heavy double doors.

  My chest clenches. My gut churns.

  This might have been my home for many years, but not anymore. It feels as strange to be here as if I’d just arrived on the moon.

  Cliff opens the door for me and I slip out, taking a deep breath. The air is hot and humid and stifling, even late at night.

  The front door opens and a maid steps out. I haven’t met her before, but then again, my parents have never been able to keep staff for very long. The young woman doesn’t meet my eye. She keeps her head down as she opens the door wider, nodding to me.

  Neither of my parents steps out to greet me. The dark opening into the house stays vacant.

  “Where are my parents?” I ask the maid.

  “In bed, miss.”

  My heart sinks. They couldn’t even be bothered to stay up for me. Cliff hauls my carry-on suitcase up the steps and the maid grabs it from him.

  When I step across the threshold, it feels like I’m entering an alternate dimension. Is this really where I grew up? Is this really where I chose to come instead of staying with Benji?

  I swallow my hesitations down, following the maid deeper into the house. She leads me inside, all the way up to my childhood bedroom. I nod to her, grabbing my carry-on and closing the door. I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling for a few hours, drifting off into a fitful sleep in the early hours of the morning.

  When I get up, the house is a hive of activity. I make my way down to the kitchen, where my mother’s shrill voice can be heard.

  When I step into the huge kitchen, my mother turn
s to face me.

  “Darling,” she proclaims, spreading her arms wide. Her sheer, gauzy kaftan flutters down to her feet. Her hair is styled in a perfect blow-out, her skin glowing and plump from the multitude of facials and injections she submits herself to in the ever-constant pursuit of youthfulness.

  I want to throw up.

  As soon as I see her swan her way around the marble kitchen island toward me, her expensive sandals slapping on the expensive tiles beneath us, I know she’s never going to come up to Woodvale. She doesn’t see me as a person. She sees me as an asset.

  “How was the flight?” My mother gives me two air kisses, not waiting for me to answer. “Do you want some coffee? Your father’s in the study.”

  Without waiting for me to grab a coffee, she leads me down the long hallway toward my father’s study. When we stop outside the massive door, she raps her knuckles on the door and calls out his name in a sing-song voice.

  “Grayson! Your favorite daughter is here!”

  I wince.

  That would be a funny joke if I were their only daughter, but it’s like my parents forgot Lucy even exists. The door opens and my father appears in the doorway. He’s got more wrinkles than I remember. His potbelly hangs over his belt as he readjusts it, leaning into me for an awkward hug.

  “I have the paperwork prepared,” he says as a greeting. “You can sign the papers that confirm your appointment to the company board of directors, and then we’ll do the house.”

  My heart shrinks smaller and smaller, until it feels like it’s completely disappeared from my chest.

  I sit down on a plush armchair, looking at the papers my father pushes toward me. My mother talks about Milan, and how they’ve closed on another new house in the Caribbean.

  I hear nothing.

  I shouldn’t be here…

  …but I have to try.

  “Mom, Dad,” I say, taking a deep breath. “There’s something I want to ask you before I sign this paperwork.”

  My mother stops talking, and my father stares at me from beneath bushy eyebrows. Pulse hammering, I take a breath through my teeth.