Rhett (Signature Sweethearts)

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Rhett (Signature Sweethearts) Page 9

by Kelsie Rae


  “What are you saying?”

  I take a deep breath. “I’m saying that I can’t do this anymore, Tony. I’m saying that . . .” I stumble over the words. “I’m saying that I want to break up.”

  “What?”

  I attempt to swallow past the emotions clogging my throat as I search for the courage to continue. “Tony, I want to break up. This relationship isn’t working. I’m not happy. You’re not happy.” My voice cracks on a sob, not knowing what else I can say to make him understand. To make him see the reason behind my actions.

  “Where is this coming from?” His disbelief is morphing into anger. I can feel it rolling off him in waves. Just like the ones I’m so desperate to see at the beach.

  I shrug. “I’m so sorry,” I repeat. It’s the only thing I can think to say.

  Anthony stands abruptly, his movement jostling me on the couch.

  “That’s all you can say? What exactly are you apologizing for, Indie?”

  I remain silent, the words I’m desperately searching for seem to be just out of reach.

  “Did you cheat on me?” He spits the words accusingly as he paces the tiny family room floor like a caged tiger.

  “No, I—”

  “I can’t believe this. It was Rhett, wasn’t it? I knew something was going on with you two. I saw the way he looked at you when he dropped you off the other night. How long has this been going on?”

  “Nothing’s been going on. I just—”

  He throws his hands up before I have a chance to respond. “You know what? I don’t want to know.”

  “Tony—”

  “No. Don’t Tony me. I’m pissed at you, Indie. I come home after a long ass day, and you throw this on me? I don’t know where this is coming from, but I don’t have time right now. I’m sorry, but do you know how much pressure I’m under at work? I can’t deal with anything else. Not right now.” He shakes his head in frustration. “You know what? Do whatever the hell you want. I’ll talk to you later.”

  He storms out the door, slamming it behind him. The crash makes me jump as more tears stream down my face and drip off my chin.

  I grab a throw pillow and hug it to my chest as a replay of tonight echoes through my head.

  The guilt is eating me alive. I did the right thing though, didn’t I? Doesn’t Tony deserve to have someone look at him like he hung the moon? Doesn’t he deserve to have someone love him so unconditionally that he can do no wrong? I mean . . . I think we both deserve that, don’t we? I just wish I didn’t have to hurt him the way I did.

  He’s right. Now isn’t exactly a perfect time to break up with him, but is there ever really a good time? I don’t think so. I think it’ll always hurt. It’ll always be unbearable. It’ll always leave a scar, no matter how hard you try to soften the blow.

  I hope he can forgive me one day. I know it’s a common pipe dream, but I really wish we could stay friends. I’ve known him forever. I care about him. I love him. It simply isn’t in the way he deserves.

  Tears continue to stream down my face as flashbacks of our relationship play in my head. Every touch. Every smile. Every lonely night. Every missed dinner. Every lumpy, unresolved issue stuffed under that damn rug finally making an appearance in an onslaught of mistakes that can never be erased.

  Then I remember Chef Thomas’s final comment. “It is better to be alone and happy than to live a lie with someone you’re not supposed to be with, oui? Be brave. Be strong. And when all else fails? Eat some cake.”

  A watery smile graces my lips as I slowly get up and walk over to our tiny kitchen.

  My tiny kitchen.

  I grab the keys from the counter and lock up without bothering to change my clothes.

  I’m a woman on a mission to bake something particularly yummy in hopes of soothing the ache in my soul from our breakup as I walk down to Get Baked.

  “Cake it is,” I mumble to myself.

  It’s going to be okay.

  Chapter 11

  Rhett

  I spend my night tossing and turning before I throw in the towel and go for a long run. After a brutal exercise routine, I get ready for work and end up having an extra hour on my hands. I have some explaining to do. Indie deserves that much from me after abandoning her last night.

  I shouldn’t have ditched her the way I did. She didn’t deserve that kind of reaction from me, and I need to explain exactly why. Especially after I refused to leave her at the bar a few nights ago.

  I open the door to Get Baked. It smells like happiness and comfort all in one.

  The blonde is working the register, and it takes me a second to remember her name.

  Sophie.

  Her expression turns steely as soon as she sees me.

  “Come for a cronut? Or for a certain baker you ditched last night?” Her expression is cold, but I totally deserve it.

  “Both?”

  Sophie rolls her eyes. “Just a sec.”

  Grudgingly, she disappears into the back room. Seconds later, she returns with Indie in tow. I step forward and curse the counter for being between us, because it’s clear she’s been crying.

  “Hi. What can I get you?”

  She looks like a beautiful train wreck. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head. She has bags under her eyes and not a spot of makeup on her face. And . . . is that the same dress from last night?

  Her appearance only feeds the guilt I feel in my chest.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Indie nibbles her lower lip, debating whether she should allow my request.

  Hesitantly, she turns to Sophie. “Can you and Nat cover things here for a few minutes?”

  Sophie eyes us both warily before finally agreeing. “Fiiine.” Then she points her perfectly manicured finger at me. “Don’t you dare hurt her.”

  I nod, giving Sophie my silent promise. I don’t plan on it.

  Indie yanks off her splattered apron, storms around the counter, and heads straight for the door, expecting me to follow.

  I do.

  Indie shoves the glass door open and marches toward the park without looking back. I have a feeling she wants to get rid of me as quickly as possible. But if that was the case, she would have stopped right outside the door, so I allow myself to have a little hope.

  She stops at a bench on the outskirts of the park and takes a seat, plopping down like a bag of bricks. Still, she won’t look at me. She looks exhausted, and I doubt she got much sleep.

  Cautiously, I take a seat next to her.

  “I want to apologize for last night. The way I disappeared was rude and careless. I shouldn’t have left you by yourself. Especially at night in New York City.” She bristles at my comment, but I press on. “Not because you can’t handle yourself, but because my mama always taught me to make sure a girl gets home safely after spending time together. Always.”

  Her jaw clenches as she folds her slender arms over her chest.

  “So why didn’t you make sure I got home safe then? I thought you were Batman?”

  I turn in my seat to give her my full attention. I’m too close to her, and she’s too tempting, so I slide an inch in the other direction to avoid physical contact. The motion kills me, but I don’t have a choice.

  “Because I’m a dumbass?”

  Her breath catches at my bluntness before she lets out a breath of laughter.

  “No,” I continue. “In all honesty, I had a moment from last night trigger something from my past, and it freaked me out. It’s no excuse, but I’m sorry. I needed to get my head on straight before I did something I’d regret.”

  “And what were you going to regret?” she whispers.

  I shake my head, refusing to unload my baggage onto her. “Doesn’t matter. Will you forgive me?”

  She smiles shyly before nodding once. “You’re forgiven.”

  “Perfect.” I grin. “Can I have my cape back?”

  Her brows furrow. “Cape?”

  “Yeah. If I’m
Batman then I need my cape.”

  She laughs. “Only if you can answer this question––did you really need to pull me from work just to say you’re sorry you ditched me last night?” She quirks her brow teasingly.

  I shrug. “Maybe I was looking for an excuse to see you.”

  She chews on the inside of her cheek, speechless.

  I revel in her embarrassment before covering my bluntness in a little white lie.

  “I’m kidding. I don’t have your number, and I wanted to apologize for being a dumbass. Now, let’s get you back to work.” I pull her up from the bench.

  We start walking back when I can’t help but ask her a question. One that’s been in the back of my mind since last night after eavesdropping on Indie’s conversation with Anthony.

  “So, are you and Anthony okay?”

  She takes a deep breath, glancing up at me for a split second. “I broke up with Tony last night.” Her confession hits me square in the chest.

  “Come again?” I ask with wide eyes.

  “Trust me, you heard me right the first time.” She smirks, though her expression is still somber.

  “But . . .” I pause, anxiously gripping the back of my neck and squeezing my fingers. “Why’d you break up with him?”

  I need her to say it wasn’t because of me. If she says she broke another guy’s heart because she knew I was interested in her, it’ll make me feel terrible.

  It’ll be my fault a relationship ended, and I can’t handle that.

  Impatiently, I wait for her response.

  “It wasn’t because of you,” she admits. A light breeze lifts the flyaways around her makeup-free complexion and causes the hair to dance in the wind.

  It’s like she read my mind.

  “It. Wasn’t. Because. Of. You,” she reiterates, her eyes shining with sincerity. I can tell it’s important that I believe her, so I nod.

  “Let me tell you a little story, okay? My parents were high school sweethearts. And their best friends ended up marrying each other too. Can you believe that? What are the odds?” She shakes her head in disbelief. “Both couples got pregnant within a year of each other, and who would’ve guessed they’d have one girl and one boy. It was a match made in heaven.” She laughs sarcastically. “Tony and I started dating my freshman year of high school. We practically fell into each other’s laps. Or maybe we were pushed by our parents? I don’t know. I mean . . . he was the boy next door. We had play dates every weekend while we were growing up. It only made sense that we’d end up dating too.”

  She nibbles her lower lip while conjuring memories of the past. After a second, she shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’ll always love him, but I don’t think I was ever in love with him. It was like we were in an arranged marriage of some kind, and neither of us wanted to disappoint our parents by calling it off. Hell, I’m not even sure if they ever actually pressured us, or if it was all in our heads. Regardless, we weren’t right for each other, and I needed to pull my big girl panties on and admit it to myself. I didn’t break up with him for you. I broke up with him because it was long overdue. I want to be happy, and I wasn’t. It really is as simple as that.”

  I’m speechless. I mean, what the hell should I say?

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out,” I offer awkwardly.

  “It’s okay, Rhett. I’m gonna be fine. And so is he.” The last of her sentence is mumbled under her breath. As if she’s trying to convince herself of the very same thing.

  We reach the front of Get Baked, and I pull her into a friendly side hug. The smell of warm vanilla wafts through the air, begging me to lean forward and place a kiss on her forehead. But she just broke up with a guy. One she’d been with for thirteen years. She might be available now, but there’s no way in hell I’ll be the rebound guy.

  She needs time. And I’m going to give it to her.

  Even if it kills me.

  “Thanks for accepting my apology, Indie. If you need anything from me, let me know, okay?”

  She returns the hug by wrapping her arms around my waist and squeezing tightly. “Okay, Batman.”

  Later that day, I groan inwardly as my feet pound the pavement. Apparently, I’ve chosen running in order to exhaust all my pent-up energy. It’s the only solution I’ve found to keep my thoughts from Indie. The air is brisk. The leaves are yellow and red. The season is changing, but the hills are just as brutal. I don’t usually run with headphones in because I prefer the sound of the outside world around me. And today, I’m grateful I left them at home.

  There’s a rustling noise in a nearby bush. The sound piques my curiosity. Pausing, I place my hands on my head and try to catch my breath, staring at the offending thicket of leaves. In through my nose, out through my mouth. My focus is still on the rustling bush as I listen to something that sounds a hell of a lot bigger than a squirrel.

  I move forward, my steps hesitant. The leaves stop trembling. What the hell? I lean closer and bend at the waist, trying to see between the thorny branches. Matted white fur comes into view, and a quiet whimper greets my ears.

  I grip one of the branches and pull it aside. The movement gives me a better view of a dog. At least I think it’s a dog. All I can see is a giant, mangy ball of fur with the biggest brown eyes I’ve ever seen.

  “Hey, big guy,” I whisper, trying not to scare him. “How’d you get in there, buddy?” I tilt my head in different directions, trying to get a well-rounded picture of his position. “I bet you were chasing squirrels, huh?”

  After a minute, I find the problem. The long hair on his tail is tangled with the branches and dry leaves. They’re practically gripping his tail like an angry claw. Every time he tries to pull himself free, he gets more tangled.

  “All right, big guy, we’re going to get you out of there, but I’m going to need your help. I’m going to need you to stay still while I try to untangle your fur.” Carefully, I let go of the branches before stepping between a few bushes and moving to the backside of the dog. “Please don’t bite me,” I grumble, grasping his curly white tail and tugging at the branches. The dog whines and shifts a little, but stays relatively still while I untangle the mess in front of me. After a few minutes, I’m able to get him taken care of and pick him up. The thick cotton of my hoodie protects my arms, but my hands are a different story. I couldn’t cover them while messing with the branches, so they’re cut up everywhere. Little drops of blood cover my knuckles, but the dog is okay, and I got him out of the bush from hell. That’s all that really matters.

  When I set him down on the pavement, I expect him to run in the opposite direction. Instead, he wags his tail excitedly at his new freedom. His tongue lolls out the side, and his big brown eyes are staring up at me like I just performed a miracle.

  I guess for him, I kind of did.

  “No more chasing squirrels all right, big guy? I won’t be here next time to save you.” I look at him pointedly and feel like a stern father giving his son a hard lecture.

  He barks in reply before sitting down obediently and patiently waiting for me to make a move.

  Unsure if I should just leave him there, I check for tags. There aren’t any. My eyes scan the surrounding area as I look for a missing dog flyer or an anxious owner calling the big guy’s name. Alas, there’s nothing.

  “What am I going to do with you?” I reach down and scratch the mutt behind his floppy ears. He responds by licking the palm of my hand and nuzzling it with his wet nose.

  “Hmm . . .” I hum deep in my chest. “All right, big guy. It looks like you get to come with me for now. We’ll find your owner.”

  I jog slowly down the path, the hills rolling around me. The dog stays right by my side, trotting without a care in the world with his tongue hanging out.

  I grin as I consider how I might’ve found a new friend in the unlikeliest of places.

  Chapter 12

  Rhett

  My cut-up knuckles tap against Indie’s door anxiously. I wince, makin
g a mental note to clean them later.

  When the door finally opens, deja vu hits me in the gut. Indie’s ashy blonde hair hangs past her shoulders as she stands there in a white tank top and baby blue sleep shorts. They’re so short they’re practically indecent.

  “Hey, you,” she greets me. Her arms are crossed, and she’s leaning against the doorjamb casually, like she didn’t just catch me with my tongue hanging out of my mouth, eerily similar to the big guy a few minutes ago.

  I lick my lips. “Hey.”

  “Can I help you?” She grins at my awkwardness.

  Clearing my throat, I remind myself why I knocked on her door in the first place. “Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you knew if our building is pet friendly?”

  She furrows her brow before asking, “Do you have a pet?”

  “Umm . . . no?” I grimace, knowing I sound like a kid who was caught skipping school.

  After laughing at my ridiculous attempt to lie, Indie puts me out of my misery. “It’s a pet-friendly apartment building. Don’t stress, Batman. It’s all good. So, what kind of pet do you have? And is this a new thing, or have you been really sneaky for the past month and a half? ’Cause I haven’t heard a bark, or a meow, or a chirp. Nada.”

  “I didn’t technically get a pet. I was running, and I found a dog tangled up in some bushes. He didn’t have a collar, but I’ve been on the phone with various veterinarians and the pound. The vet suggested I bring him in to see if he’s been chipped. The pound recommended I simply drop him off.” I can’t do that to him, though. I’ve only known the big guy for a few hours, but he’s already impacted me in an unforgettable way.

  Kind of like someone else I know . . . .

  “You could keep an eye out for flyers, but I wouldn’t suggest dropping him off at the pound. If he’s house-trained, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal to keep him a few days, right?” she suggests, and I like that she’s looking out for the big guy before she’s even met him.

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

 

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