by T. E. Black
“We need to talk, Leigh.”
“I know,” I say on a sigh.
Taking a deep breath, I grab a seat at the nearest bar table, and Rook follows, taking the seat across from me. I look away, staring at my jukebox instead of him. I don’t want to have this talk, but there’s no other choice.
“I’m sorry if Luke caught you off guard. I didn’t know he was stopping by.”
I shrug it off, acting as if I don’t give a damn, even though I do. “You can have whomever you want at the apartment. It’s half yours.”
“Leigh,” he pleads.
Emotions bubble just under the surface, and I fight to contain them. “No. It’s fine. I don’t hold a say over what you do or who you see.”
I can’t sit anymore. I’m too anxious. I stand and begin to pace.
“Don’t say that. You know it’s not true.” Do I know that? Is there even a single thread of truth in that statement? I don’t know. I just keep pacing as I turn it over in my brain. Does the answer even matter? No. There is really only one question I should ask. I stop and turn to Rook.
“Did you tell him you would go back?”
“I haven’t given him an answer yet.”
A sarcastic laugh rips from my throat as I feel a tiny crack form in my heart. “I thought we weren’t lying to each other anymore. I thought you wanted only the truth, yet here you are denying what I saw with my own eyes. When he mentioned you coming back, you looked …” I blow out a slow breath. “You looked happy.”
Rook’s chair goes flying backward as he jumps from his seat. He slams his hands down on the table so hard I’m surprised the legs don’t give out. With a long, pointed look, I tell him that my rickety bar furniture has done nothing to him so he needs to chill.
“Why are you doing this, Leigh? What reasons do you have not to believe me?” His voice grows angry.
“What reasons do I have to believe you?” I shout back. “You’re obviously planning on leaving, again! It shouldn’t surprise me, though. I’ve always known your dreams were to be a fighter—not to be stuck in Boston.”
His breaths are labored as he closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, a fire burns in his irises. It’s obvious he’s pissed, but guess what? So am I.
“You drive me insane! I swear, I’m going to be committed to an institution before I hit forty.”
“Likewise,” I clip, harshly.
“What do you want from me? Please tell me, because I can’t keep up with your moods anymore. I love you. I’ve told you time and time again that you are what I want! Why can’t you trust me?”
“Excuse me?” I question, baffled. “Trust?” I point my finger at my chest. “I’m sorry. I trust actions, Rook. People can say whatever they want, but when Luke asked if you were coming back, you didn’t tell him no. You told him, and I quote, ‘we’ll talk about it.’”
His face softens at my words. “Leigh, I told him that so I could talk to you about it first. I wasn’t going to make that choice without you. That’s what couples do, they talk about things before making decisions.”
Isn’t that what I had thought he meant? My anger cools a bit, but I still can’t quite let it go. “Fine. You want to talk about it. Let’s talk.” I cross my arms over my chest. “The way I see it is—if you want to leave, then leave. If you want to stay, then stay.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them.
Why do I have to be such a bitch?
Because I’m still scared he will end up hating me if I ask him to stay, that’s why.
Rook strides toward me, only stopping when he’s close enough for me to touch.
“Do you want me to stay?” He strings the question out as if he’s strumming an acoustic, long and slow and deep, coaxing me to be truthful.
A lump forms in my throat as I stare into his beautiful, green eyes. Reflected back at me is a woman I hardly recognize. The woman mimicking my movements looks nothing like she should. She’s jaded. She looks used, sad, and angry for no goddamn reason.
She looks selfish.
I hate her.
“Answer me. Look me in the eyes and say it, Leigh. Tell me you want me to stay here with you. Tell me you love me. Tell me not to go.”
Sweat beads on the back of my neck, sending a freezing chill through my entire body. This moment is all I’ve been thinking about. I’ve been debating the answer to his question since the moment Sarah lead me out the back door of the bar to where he was waiting. The weight of the decision I knew I’d have to make has been crushing me.
If I tell him to stay, I know he will. I know he’ll take me right here on the table we stand by and tell his trainer and career to fuck off. Wouldn’t it be selfish to take away everything he’s worked for only so I can be happy?
Ten years ago, I made the decision to let him go. The only thing that has really changed between then and now is that now I’d be asking him to walk away from years of hard work. Back then, he wouldn’t have lost anything tangible.
I can’t ask him to leave it all behind.
He will hate me if I tell him that.
His walking away should be his choice.
Not mine.
My stomach rolls.
I can’t tell him to go.
I can’t tell him to stay.
I can’t choose.
I have to choose.
My time’s up.
“I can’t.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Rook
Being able to pack all my belongings into a tiny, black duffle never ceases to amaze me. It’s amazing how little someone can actually live on when they don’t have a choice. I came here with ten outfits, some basic toiletries, a phone, and a charger. I’m leaving with the same number of items in my bag but so much more inside of my heart.
This apartment, this bar, this town, this entire city has more memories for me than any place else ever will. But I can’t stay. I can’t bare to stay when I know how much it’ll hurt me. Even living in a city of thousands, I would still be too close to the one person who I can’t bear to be without.
I know she lied when she told me she couldn’t tell me to stay, but I didn’t push her. She made a choice, and although it isn’t the one I want, I respect it.
It’s been two days since she told me she wanted me to leave for California. And, for two days I’ve been debating if I should listen to her. I know Ryleigh O’Donnell like the back of my hand, though. Asking her the same question six times over would have given me the same answer. She would’ve stood firm on her choice, because, for whatever reason, she probably thinks she’s doing me a favor by setting me free. She’s incredibly wrong.
She’s not saving me.
She’s ruining me.
I’ll never be able to look at another blonde woman and not see her. Every time I hear someone with a Boston accent, my mind will switch back to the way she sounds. Every bar I see with a red, neon light hanging off it, I’ll think of Max’s Bar, which will have me thinking about her again. If I stay in Boston where I’m not wanted, it will be more of a slap in the face than leaving the city. My staying here would mean that neither of us would have an ounce of closure.
“Flights booked,” Luke cheers from the couch.
I don’t answer. Instead, I give him a nod, acknowledging that I heard what he said.
“Man. It’s going to be great to get back to normal. This bullshit with Mark threw everything off. After working for you for ten years, I got used to our routine,” he jokes.
“It will be nice to get back in a gym.” I lie.
“Yeah. You’re looking a little less ripped than usual.” He chuckles. “So, first things first when we get back to Cali, we have to find out some new sponsors since the old ones wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole. Then, we have to get some fights lined up and show that you’ve shaken off all the bullshit rumors.”
“How bad are they?” I ask as if I care.
He gives me a hesitant look before answering.
“Pretty bad. Look on the bright side! You got a mini vacation with your former lover and family.”
“You’re a dick.”
He throws his hands up in surrender, nodding in agreement. “Sorry. Old habits are a bitch to kick. I won’t bring her up again. I swear.”
“When’s the flight?”
“Tomorrow morning. Bright and early at six sharp.”
“Gotcha. You picking me up here or sending a car?”
“I’ll pick you up. I have to make sure you don’t get cold feet or accosted by some damn reporter.”
“I'll see you in the morning. My brother’s stopping by for a bit and then I'll tap out for the night.” It’s dismissive, and even though Luke is a dick, he’s not stupid. He knows I want him to leave.
When I’m finally alone, I feel a sense of relief. I like Luke and all, but he pushes my buttons too much. He’s so single minded that his whole world seems to revolve around one thing—money. He’s all about it.
My cell rings and I fish it out of my pocket, hoping it’s Leigh. It’s Trent.
“Yo,” I answer.
“Hey. You around?”
“Yeah. I'm in the apartment.” I pause. “You still stopping by?”
There's a moment of silence before he answers, “Yeah. If you don't mind, that is.”
“Not at all. Just come up. The door’s open.”
“Actually, I was hoping to use the back door. I don't want Ryleigh seeing. You know?” His tone is uneasy.
It doesn't surprise me as much as it should. I know Leigh probably hates me right about now, and I'm sure she’s been talking to Trent about it since they made up.
“No worries. I'll prop the back door open.”
“Come open it. I'm already here,” he says, shocking the shit out of me.
“All right. Be down in a minute.”
I hang up the phone and slip on my boots quickly in an attempt to get down there before Leigh finds out he's here. The last thing I want is for him to be on her shit list once I leave town. He shouldn't have to deal with that because of me.
I take the steps two at a time and peek down the hallway to make sure the coast is clear before I open the door for Trent. He slips in quietly and doesn’t say a word until we are both safely back in my apartment.
“Do you want a soda or something?” I offer as I kick my boots back off.
“I'm good, man. Thanks.”
I grab myself a drink from the fridge and try to ignore the way Trent keeps clearing his throat.
“You all right?” I ask. He looks nervous.
He ignores my question and looks around the apartment as if he's on a mission. I follow his eyes as they dodge and dart certain items. His gaze stops on my duffel bag, and then, finally, his eyes meet mine.
“Are you really leaving?”
He seems surprised, which is strange. I figured that when I said I was leaving, he would have known it’d be soon. I figured that’s what his drop in was about but now, I have no clue what's going on.
“Yes. But, tell me why you were acting weird two minutes ago.”
A groan slips from his lips as he scrubs his face with his hands. “What the fuck, Rook? I thought you were blowing smoke up my ass! I didn’t think you were actually leaving! What about Ryleigh?”
Here we go.
“She doesn't want me here anymore.” Fuck, that hurts to say.
“And you believed that?” he asks in disbelief. “Have you taken one too many hits to the head, brother?”
“Jesus Christ, Trent. What do you want me to do? She looked me in the eyes and told me to go back to California. I gave her chance upon chance to ask me to stay, and she didn't. I'm not a damn mind reader. If someone tells me to go, I go.”
He shakes his head, disgusted by my speech. “If you leave her, you're an idiot,” he says with a serious tone. “I came here, nervous as hell, planning to ask if you'd be my best man. Now, I find out you’re really leaving and for the most idiotic reason I've ever heard.”
“You're the one who told me to give her what she wanted!” I protest.
“No. I told you to do right by her. I said to respect her and never hurt her. I never said to listen to her bullshit lies. I said to take care of her, Rook.”
“What is so damn hard about just saying what you mean! Everyone needs to stop just expecting everyone else to just know what they really want! Seriously, this is why men are so damn confused all the time.” I huff out in frustration. I had known before Trent even walked in the damn door Leigh doesn’t want me to go, but what am I supposed to do? Call her a liar to her face?
Trent breaks out in laughter at my meltdown. It's not funny, but to him, it's damn near hysterical.
“Do you love her?” he asks once he catches his breath.
“More than anything.” There isn’t a single second of hesitation.
“Do you want to leave?”
“No. But—”
“Then, don't. Go downstairs, march through the bar, and tell her. Fight for her before it’s too late, dude. I learned the hard way when it came to Shay. I almost lost her because I waited too long. I’ve had ten years to learn how Ry works while you were gone. If I know her as well as I think I do, she downstairs right now, kicking herself in the ass for what she said. I also know that she will never in a million years ask you to stay. She’s just not that type of woman. She’s the woman you just tell that you’re staying and move the fuck into her house. And, hope she doesn’t smother you in your sleep afterwards,” he chuckles.
Trent’s words sink into me like a rock in the ocean. It's as if everything I've been overthinking—everything I’ve been regretting or doubting—forms something I'd call sense. The rolling fog in my mind lifts, disappearing from my eyes, and everything becomes crystal clear.
With a clear mind and a determined attitude, I nod to my brother. “You’re right.”
Trent smiles at my admission. “Finally, Rook, I was starting to think you’d never realize I was the wiser brother.”
I throw my head back, joining in his laughter. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Oh, and just so you know, I’d gladly be the best man in your wedding.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Ryleigh
I would think I would’ve learned by now that selfless love isn’t always the answer. But, I’m a gluten for punishment. I’d rather walk around for the next ten plus years, regretting my choices than tell him the truth.
I’m an idiot.
Rook Wallace is a good man. He’s kind, generous, and has a beautiful heart. He’s the perfect man who will make a woman insanely happy one day.
That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.
In reality, when he does find that woman, I’ll fucking hate her even if she doesn’t deserve it.
I’ll despise her for having the man who should’ve been mine.
I’ll ridicule her from hundreds of miles away while she lies in his bed at night.
My blood will turn green with envy.
I’ll detest her because she has the courage I lack.
I’ll loathe her.
She’ll be the woman he marries and starts a family with. They’ll settle down in a beautiful home—probably by the beach, where they’ll stick their toes in the sand after a family dinner. Their children, who will probably inherit Rook’s beautiful smile, will flop into the salty ocean while their parents laugh in delight at the playful antics.
And, I’ll be here. Surrounded by barflies who have nothing better to do. I’ll live and die in Max’s because I was too chicken shit to take the leap.
Trent told me not to drown my problems, and if he were here, he would be livid. He’s not here either. He’s with Shay—the love of his life—because he wasn’t scared to take what he wanted. So, I lift the bottle, congratulate myself on passing the halfway mark, and take another sip.
As horrible as the future will be for me, I still can’t justify taking away a part of him for my own, selfish reasons. I can’t justify asking h
im to give up his dreams only so I can have him.
“Hey, stranger. Looking sexy as always.”
And shit just keeps piling up.
“Brad.” My one and only attempt at a one-night stand stands five feet away from me. Obviously, my oh-so-very-warm welcome isn’t what he expects because he shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. There may be a bright side to his intrusion, though. After all, at one time he did spark a little heat in me. Running with it, I take a swig from the bottle before glancing over at Sarah, making sure she has the bar covered before I keep drinking. I try on a smile for him, but it’s fake as can be. He perks up a bit, stepping forward with a matching smile. I’m incredibly disappointed when nothing comes. Not one lick of a feeling fills me. I belt out a laugh. Lick. Fucking Brad and his dog bowl lapping. My laughter peels through the bar, and soon I’m laughing so damn hard I have tears streaming down my face.
When I finally stop, I look up, and the dumbass is still standing there.
“What do you want, Brad? You didn’t just come here to stare at me?”
“No.” He chuckles, still looking a little confused by my outburst and anger. “I came to ask you out.”
“Out? As in, on a date?” My brows shoot up in surprise.
Jesus Christ. What piss-poor timing for him to be a good guy. Unfortunately, I’m not on the market right now. Not after Rook.
“That’s kind of you.” I offer. “But, I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” He takes another step forward.
“Can’t,” I answer honestly. “There’s someone else.”
Telling someone the truth for once feels amazing. For once, I didn’t have to lie and then cover my tracks as I walk away. Maybe, things will be all right after all.
“That fighter?” he asks, and I stare at him with weary eyes. “It was all over the news a couple of weeks ago. That’s who you’re hung up on?”
“His name’s Rook, and yes, he’s the guy I’m ‘hung up on’,” I snap, not liking the tone of voice or the truth in his words..