“The day you were born was the happiest day of my life. It’s cliché, I know, but it’s true what they say—having children changes you. You became my entire world that day. I didn’t have a ton of money and I was single, working at a diner up in Minnesota, barely making enough to pay rent. Your father wasn’t in the picture so I couldn’t rely on him for help. It was going to be me and you against the world. That’s how I saw our lives working out. Regardless of what my parents told me, I wanted you. I wanted to keep you.” My mother sighs. “The day after you were born, I was pulled into emergency surgery from complications from the birth. After it was over, I had a reaction to the anesthesia, which further complicated me being with you. I was left to believe you were safe with my parents, but once I woke up and I was healthy enough to take you home, they told me you had passed away from complications after birth, said your heart had simply stopped beating.”
My mother’s voice quivers. My throat swells and my stomach turns with her story. It feels as if I’m in a completely different world, listening to someone else’s story, not mine.
My entire world is crumbling, everything I’ve ever known turning to dust on the ground.
“I grieved for you, Sloan. I held you for all of twenty-four hours before we were ripped apart from one another. It was hard to move on after I left the hospital, but I did what I could to live as normal a life as possible. After a few years, it became unbearable to stay in Minnesota. I closed my eyes and pointed to a map. That’s how I ended up here in Austin. I spent the next twenty years of my life putting the pieces back together until one day, about two years ago, I received a letter from my mother. She was in hospice care and only had a short amount of time left. I opened the envelope and found a picture of you from your college graduation. In the letter, she said she and my father had forged my signature on an adoption form, giving you up. I was angry…angry because I had been lied to for twenty years.”
My mother pauses, and the only sound coming from the tiny speaker on the recorder is her heavy breaths. They’re hushed but deliberate, each one slow and methodical. Then her voice cuts through again.
“I wanted to reach out to you, Sloan. But once I considered it, I didn’t know how I would even explain. You were living your life in Minnesota. From what I could tell, you were happy. You had someone you loved, you had a family…everything I ever wanted for you.” She sobs into the recorder. “So, I decided to let you go, to live the life you were meant to live. But now that I don’t have much time, I want to leave this for you, my house and everything in it. Anything I can possibly give to you is yours. You’re all I have in this world, Sloan. I’m so sorry the universe kept us apart all these years, and now that I don’t have much time left, I wish I could at least get the past two years back.”
“Oh my god,” I whisper, listening to my mother’s confession. I swipe my fingers across my cheek.
“I realize this may seem hypocritical of me, or even cowardly,” she continues. “Waiting until I’m already gone before you find out about me. But I didn’t want to uproot your life just for my sake. Instead, I leave you my house. Do what you want with it. Live in it, sell it, use it however you please. I may not have much, but I worry for those I’m leaving behind that are closest to me, you and my neighbor, Dallas. He recently lost his wife to cancer, and now with me being gone, I’m not sure he’s going to handle it well. If you get the chance to meet him, go easy on him. He’s a good man, Sloan. He’s going to need someone who’s kind and gentle with his heart.” She inhales a deep breath then releases it, her cries still audible. They’re simply calmer and more measured than they were before. “Well, I need to go since my nurse will be over here soon to check on me. I want you to know I’ve always loved you, Sloan. You’ll always be my baby girl. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Take chances and love with every muscle, bone, and fiber of your being. I love you.”
The tape recorder clicks and the cassette inside stops spinning. I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and stare at the recorder resting in the palms of my hands.
Every bit of my mother’s story comes crashing into me at once—her talking about the day I was born, the way I was given up for adoption without her knowing, and then her mentioning Dallas. My heart aches with an echo of pain, the grief of losing people that were never truly mine to begin with hitting me in a wave.
I never knew my mother, yet I still grieve her loss.
I fell in love with Dallas, yet I broke every single rule we laid out between us.
I set the album and tape recorder on the table in front of me and roll to my side. I close my eyes and bury my head into the couch.
It’s incredible to me that my father never once mentioned adopting me. That must mean my adoptive mother was the one he was always telling me about, the one who died.
He never knew my birth mother.
It’s then I realize my mother and I are similar in more ways than I ever could have imagined. We were both lied to for most of our lives, but we also had the opportunity to love fiercely.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I immediately see Vada when I walk up to the coffee shop we agreed to meet at. She’s sitting on the front patio, scrolling through her phone while she sips on the coffee grasped in her other hand.
When she looks up, she sees me, waving me over.
I can’t help but feel a sense of relief when she smiles. I figure it’s a sign we might be headed in the right direction and we can salvage the friendship we once had. At the same time, I don’t know how deep Vada’s bitterness goes. It’s been two weeks since I saw her, but it somehow feels like a lifetime.
I sit down across from her and drape my purse across the back of my chair. Thankfully, the weather isn’t bad today. The clouds are able to stave off the sharp rays of the sun attempting to shine through them. The light reflects off of Vada’s dark curls, which hang loose over her shoulders.
“Hey,” I say hesitantly. I’m nervous, mostly because I don’t know what types of conversations she and Dallas have been having. My concern about our friendship is the one I try to tackle first. “Vada, I—”
“Wait,” she says, holding up her hand to stop me. “I know you probably have something to say, but I need to get mine out first. I feel like it might save us both the trouble of explaining.”
“Okay.” I lean forward and rest my arms on the table.
“First of all, I want you to know you’re my best friend.” She gives me a small reassuring smile then reaches across the table, placing her hand over mine. I truly don’t deserve having someone as incredible as Vada in my life.
“You’re my best friend, too,” I tell her, squeezing her hand. “I’m so sorry for not telling you.”
“Stop.” She waves me off, pulling her hand away. She sips on her coffee then sets it back down. “I understand why you did it, Sloan. There’s no need to rehash everything. But I also want to make sure you’re okay. Dallas told me you went to Minnesota last weekend.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, resisting the urge to ask her about him.
Dallas has been on my mind ever since the last time I saw him outside his bar, but even more so since last weekend when I found out about my mother. The idea of my mother knowing Dallas and of him losing Hailey settled in the pit of my stomach, causing my heart to pound inside my chest. Every part of me wants Dallas. I knew it then.
Somehow, I like to think my mother knew Dallas and I needed each other. I just don’t know if I will ever get him back, or if it’s even possible.
“Yeah.” I nod. “I just got back yesterday. I was only there for a few days to celebrate my brother-in-law’s promotion.”
“Oh.” Vada perks up. She smiles against the rim of her cup. “Tell him I say congratulations.”
“I will.” The news of my mother weighs heavily on me as I stare at Vada across the table. I am done with secrets and lies, especially when it comes to those I love. I take in a deep breath and release it. “I found a box in my
attic a few weeks ago. I finally opened it after I got back.”
Vada’s eyebrows dip in concern and she sets her coffee cup down, peering at me with her eyes wide and focused. I start to tell her the whole story.
By the time the waiter brings me my coffee, I’m already near the end. Vada stares at me with her jaw dropped. She hasn’t spoken a word since I started, allowing me to tell her without interruption.
“She mentioned Dallas at the end of the recording,” I tell her. This is the part that gets me the most. My mother’s explanation of her absence made sense to me in a way. Of course, it was painful. She spent twenty years believing she’d lost her only daughter, and I had thought the same, but the wound left by my relationship with Dallas is what hurts the most, and knowing about my mother’s relationship with him only made it more intense.
Vada swallows, digesting my words. Tears line her brown lashed eyes, threatening to spill over. “What did she say?”
“She told me she was worried about him since he’d just lost Hailey not too long before she found out she was sick and dying. She said if I decided to move here, to go easy on him and he would need someone who was gentle with him.”
“Well…” She releases a small laugh under her breath. “She wasn’t wrong.”
“Yeah.” I nod and take a drink of my coffee. I have yet to drink it since telling Vada about my mother’s last message to me. I sigh and give in, asking Vada the one question that’s been on my mind since I sat down. “How is he?”
“I was wondering when you were going to ask me.” She grins.
“Well, of course I wanted to ask, but I wanted to make sure you and I were good first.”
“He’s doing good.” She looks down at her hands and drags her red nail across the glossy wood-top table. “He and Colton have been working on the bar quite a bit. They’ve mostly been working on some new menu items. They’ve hired a handful of bartenders since you and I no longer work there.”
“That’s good.” I press my lips together, disappointment washing over me. It’s not that I’m not happy for Dallas’ success with his business. I’m just disappointed that he seems to be heading in that direction now that I’m no longer in the picture.
“Oh.” Vada suddenly sits up in her chair. She straightens her back and gives me the largest grin I’ve ever seen on her. “They finally hired a guitarist to perform permanently every weekend. He sings too.”
“What?” I ask her, stunned. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel like a punch to the gut hearing this news. “Really?”
“It isn’t Gareth, if that’s what you were thinking,” she adds.
It wasn’t, by the way.
She relaxes and shrugs as if she’s talking about the weather or what she ate for breakfast this morning, as if it doesn’t affect me at all. “Colton and Dallas posted about looking for a new performer. It only took them one day to find someone.”
“Wow.” I sit back in my chair and turn to look out at the people walking up and down the sidewalk. The street isn’t as busy as I’ve seen before. Despite the cooler weather today, the crowd is sparse.
“I’m sorry,” Vada says, pulling my attention back to her. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I just thought you’d want to know. It’s a good thing, right?”
I sniff and shift my gaze back to hers. “Of course it is. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
“Hey.” My best friend reaches out and grabs my hand like she did before. “Would you want to go out tonight like we did earlier in the summer? It looks like you could use a girl’s night. Lord knows I need one too.”
I breathe in the cool summer air and twist my coffee cup between my fingers. The paper grates against my fingernails, and I remember how it felt that night I went out with Vada. My red dress under the neon lights of Sixth Street…it sounds like a fantastic idea.
There’s a glimmer in her eye as she waits for my answer. She’s holding her breath as the corner of her mouth curls into a smirk, the same way her brother does.
Yeah, I could use a good night out with my best friend.
“Sure.”
After we finished our coffees, Vada offered to pick me up at my house. I told her there was no way I’d be willing to go out in a pair of torn jeans and a ten-year-old Minnesota Vikings t-shirt on. She quickly agreed.
I dab the last of my lipstick on when I get a text from Vada telling me she’s already waiting outside for me. When I meet her outside, I hop into her car, holding the bottom hem of my dress as I sit down in the passenger seat.
“Shit, girl,” Vada says. “You look amazing.”
I look down at my dress and blush. I have to admit, it’s just as revealing as the last one I wore on our night out, if not more.
The dress is a deep shade of blue, nearly black. The sleeves are long, but the chest dips down well below the space between my breasts, showing a perfect V cut. The bottom of the dress stops at the top of my thighs, and for a brief moment I think I may have gone a little too far in picking out this dress.
“You don’t think it’s too much?” I scrunch my nose, uncertainty lingering in my chest.
“No.” She dramatically shakes her head back and forth. “It’s perfect, actually.”
“Thanks.” I sigh with relief, knowing Vada wouldn’t lie.
Her outfit is similar to mine. Her bright purple dress is short-sleeved, and the collar is round, showing just enough of the tops of her breasts. She looks gorgeous.
Vada backs out of the driveway and I quickly try to sneak a glance across the street to see if Dallas is home, but we’re already down too far for me to see. She pulls out of my neighborhood and grins. “I figured we could go back out to Sixth Street like we did that night we went out.”
“Okay,” I agree. “I liked it down there.”
“Cool,” she says, turning onto the highway. “I just have to make a stop at the bar really quick if you don’t mind.” She winces, shifting her eyes to the side before bringing them back to the road. “I lent Colton money last week and he said he can pay me back tonight. I’d rather use cash than my credit card.”
“Oh.” I ignore the way my stomach somersaults at the idea of possibly seeing Dallas. It’s been two weeks since I’ve been at the bar, and I don’t know how I’ll feel walking into it. “Okay.”
“You can stay in the car if you want to. I’ll only be a minute.” She shrugs and bites down on the corner of her mouth, pulling her lip under her teeth.
I may still be upset about my failed relationship with Dallas, but I don’t want Vada to think I can’t handle going into the bar. I can handle it. Or that’s at least what I tell myself.
I straighten my back and square my shoulders. “No, I’ll go in with you.”
A short silence follows my words before Vada breaks it. “Okay.”
Ten minutes later we park in front of Dallas’ bar. To no one’s surprise, it’s packed. There’s a flood of people outside, standing in front of the building. They’re blocking the view to inside, but something tells me even if they weren’t there, I still wouldn’t be able to see through.
I step out of the car and adjust the bottom of my dress. Honestly, I’m using it to buy me a little time before heading in there. I look up at the neon sign hanging above the front door. It’s the same neon sign that caught my eye the day I walked in here the first time, the day I literally stumbled into Dallas’ life. My heart pounds in my chest and I take a deep breath.
“Are you coming?” Vada is standing in the front of her car, near the outside of the crowd. She sends me a reassuring smile from where she’s standing, and it’s enough to pull me back from the spiral I was going down.
“Yeah.”
I follow Vada into the bar, pushing our way through the crowd.
The second my foot hits the concrete floor, I hear it. There’s no country music blasting over the speakers as usual. The sound of a guitar floats above the chatter of the crowd around us.
“Is that the new guitar player
?” I ask Vada. She’s in front of me and glances over her shoulder long enough to answer me.
“Yep.”
I listen to the song as we continue making our way back. It’s beautiful, the notes seamlessly played, one after another. I still don’t have a clear view of the stage as we move farther back, and I wonder if it’s like this all the way to the back hallway leading to the alley.
“I can’t see the stage from here,” I tell Vada.
“Me either.” She grabs my hand and tugs me forward. My shoulders nudge people out of the way until I’ve finally stepped through the outliers.
I find myself standing in a clearing set back about five feet from the stage. Somehow the bar feels larger now that there’s no one in front of me. The entire audience is standing behind me now.
Vada lets go of my hand just as my eyes move up to the stage.
My lips part as I take in a sharp breath. Every nerve in my body tingles, shivers shooting down my spine at the sight of the man sitting on the single barstool in the middle of the stage, a microphone propped in front of him. His black shirt matches the black painted brick behind him. He’s wearing his familiar torn jeans, the ends are tucked into his black boots. Everything about him is just as I remember. He’s the exact same.
His ice blue eyes have been staring at me ever since I stepped out from the crowd. My fingers tighten their grip on the clutch in my hand, stunned by what I’m seeing.
Dallas playing guitar on stage.
His fingers continue to slowly move along the strings, playing the same tune over and over, the same one he was playing when I walked in. My body heats with the memories of how those same hands have explored my body, searing every inch of my flesh.
He quickly swipes his tongue across his mouth, wetting his smooth lips.
He doesn’t stop playing when he leans forward slightly, bringing his mouth closer to the microphone in front of him.
He opens his mouth to sing, and that’s when I know I’ve fallen in love with Dallas all over again.
The Rules of Heartbreak: An Enemies-to-Lovers/Next-Door Neighbor Romance (The Heartbreak Series Book 1) Page 25