“You’re sick,” I said, my stomach twisting in on itself as I realized how much he’d seen and heard. What kind of sick, twisted person does something like that?
“Anyway,” John said, waving his hand like it was no big deal that he had basically stalked me. “That’s how we know, so I guess the question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“What do you want?” I asked, wondering what on earth these two people could want from me.
John just shook his head and walked away.
Lisa smirked at me. “Maybe you should write a blog about what to do when your fiancé finds out you’ve been cheating on him,” she said, before she turned on her heel and walked away. I watched as she approached Ryan. She put her arm around him and whispered something in his ear. Shit, she was going to tell him.
When Ryan laughed at what she’d said, I knew she’d just pretended to tell him to freak me out, but then she looked back at me, and I knew it was a warning.
It was then that my dad walked up to me. His usually hard business exterior softened, as he put his arm around me. “I’m proud of you Cour Bear,” he said, using the nickname I’d always hated.
“Why’s that?” I asked, thoroughly confused. I’d just been verbally lashed for my infidelities by the psycho siblings. It was a little hard for me to think about someone being proud of me in that moment.
“You chose a fine young man to marry,” he said, and I realized then that Stacey hadn’t said a word to him about what she knew.
“Daddy,” I said, chastising him.
“No, I’m serious,” he said, putting his arm around me. “I like Ryan. He’s going to go far in life. You made a good choice.”
“Really?” I said, feeling like complete and total shit.
“Yes.”
“Well, thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, squeezing me into a side hug before he dropped his arm back to his side. “I love you, sweetie.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
My stomach twisted again in that moment when I realized just how disappointed he would be once he found out the truth.
“I’m just glad you didn’t cross over to the dark side.”
“Daddy!” I said, not believing he’d said that.
“Hey,” he said in defense of himself. “I’m not sure I could accept a Yankee fan as a son-in-law. Thanks for not making me have to.”
I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat at the subtle mention of Beckett and forced a weak smile on my face. I knew my dad had meant his comment as a joke. I just wasn’t sure it was all that funny. It was then that I decided I needed some air. I suddenly felt claustrophobic in my mother’s large, open house. Across the room, Ryan was talking to his dad, so I hugged my dad, told him I loved him again and excused myself, giving the reason that I needed to use the restroom. I snuck out to the front porch on my own instead.
I leaned against the railing, sipped my champagne and took deep breaths, in and out, in and out. I looked out at the street. It was the street where I’d learned to ride my bike, learned to drive a car and ran up and down too many times to count, mostly at Beckett’s side. Out of habit, I glanced over at his parents’ house. His car was still in the driveway. I don’t know how long I stared at his house, but it was long enough to realize exactly what I wished. I wanted to see him. I wanted him to come outside. I knew what I’d told him, but suddenly it didn’t matter. I just wanted to see him and talk to him and forget everything else. When we were together, everything else seemed to drift into the background. It was just easy.
There were no bitchy, judgmental, blackmailing relatives who’d probably be happier when you didn’t marry their brother. There wasn’t a dad who would be disappointed in you for cheating because you made the wrong decision when you decided to get engaged to someone you were holding onto because you didn’t want to be alone, and there wasn’t a fiancé whose heart you didn’t want to break because he loved you more than you could ever love him.
Everything was about to come crashing down, and I wanted to deal with none of it. All I wanted to do was crawl into Beckett’s arms and not think for a while. Then, as if someone heard me, Beckett’s parent’s front door opened, and he walked out with his dog, Sam. I froze. I was afraid if I moved that he would see me. I tried to hide behind the porch railing, but it only came up to my waist. Even though I was stock still, it was as if Beckett could sense I was there. He turned his head ever so slightly and before I knew it, he was staring right at me. His face was blank. I couldn’t read his expression or tell what he was thinking. Our eyes locked, and his expression turned to a glare. I was about to leave the porch, run over to his house and put my arms around him, but a voice behind me suddenly jerked me back to reality.
“Lunch is ready.”
I turned around to see Ryan standing in the doorway. His hand was extended to me. I nodded once, then reached out and took his hand. I turned around for a brief second, but Beckett had already gone back inside.
“I just love those dresses you’ve posted on your blog about finding the perfect wedding dress, Courtney,” Stacey said then, and fear gripped me as I realized we were launching into a conversation about my blog over lunch. I prayed Lisa would keep her mouth shut. I just needed to get through lunch, and then I could come clean about everything.
“Really?” I asked, taking a sip of my iced tea and a bite of pasta salad. Maybe with my mouth full, I wouldn’t be able to answer questions.
“Yeah, my friend Damien is a designer, and he went crazy for them. Where did you get the designs? Did you draw them?”
I shook my head. “No, Summer did. I just thought they’d be fun to put up with the postings. You really think they’re good?”
She nodded vigorously. “Yeah, Damien said they were great. He was interested in buying some of them for his spring collection.”
“Wow,” I said, thinking about how shocked Summer would be. She would be over the moon that someone actually wanted to buy her designs. I couldn’t wait to call her.
“What’s a blog?” Lydia asked then.
I started to explain to her what it was and why I was writing it. “In the beginning, it was a cool way to supplement my income but also so I could keep writing. My goal is to be a published author, and I’ve actually started writing a book. I’m about halfway through.”
“You started writing your book?” Ryan asked then, and I could see he was offended that I hadn’t told him.
I opened my mouth to apologize for not letting him know about the biggest thing going on in my life at that moment, but I’d been afraid to tell him. If he’d asked to read it, I would have had to explain where the idea came from, and it had been loosely based on what had transpired between me and Beckett.
“She doesn’t tell you everything,” Lisa said then, a smug expression taking over her face.
“What do you mean?” Ryan asked, turning to his sister, who shrugged innocently. He turned back to me. “What is she talking about?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, babe. I just didn’t want to say anything until it was done.”
“How’s the wedding business, CourBear?” my dad asked then, and I could tell he was trying to change the subject. I was grateful to him for that.
“I thought you were quitting that job,” Lydia said then and turned to Ryan. “Ryan, I thought you said you were both quitting work and moving to The Vineyard?”
Ryan opened his mouth to say something, but my mom beat him to the punch.
“What are you talking about?” she asked Lydia, but looked between her and me, no doubt wondering why I didn’t share this monumental news with her.
Lydia fingered her tennis bracelet and looked pointedly at my mom. “I think Courtney realized that there are other things she could be doing besides working. Ryan can easily support her.”
“Courtney didn’t realize anything of the sort,” I mumbled, but no one heard me.
I watched my mom’s face
turn red out of anger. She had been a stay-at-home mom until the separation when she realized she’d been dependent on my dad her whole life and had nothing to show for it. She’d finally turned her hobby of photography into a successful business, and at that point she made me swear I would never depend on a man. I could tell she was boiling mad at that moment.
“Courtney, is this true?” my mom asked me pointedly, most likely wondering why I was moving in with Ryan when I was planning to break up with him.
I slowly shook my head. “No, it’s not,” I said. “It was an idea that Ryan and I tossed around, but we’re not doing it.”
“But you’re still leaving that job of yours, right?” Lydia asked.
I threw my hands up in frustration. “No, Lydia. I’m not. I like my job, so no, I’m not quitting,” I said, through clenched teeth.
Lydia just shook her head in what was most likely disappointment.
“What Courtney does is her own business,” my mother said calmly, but I could hear the venom in her voice. “Just because she can, doesn’t mean she should be dependent on Ryan. She is very good at what she does, and if you think it’s beneath you, then maybe you should just leave.”
I stared wide-eyed at my mother, wanting to tell her to be quiet and to hug her at that same time.
“Mom, stop it,” Ryan chimed in. “If Courtney wants to work, then she can work. I will support her in anything she does.”
“Anything,” Lisa snorted then, and I saw Stacey look over at her. She looked at me, and I knew that she knew that Lisa knew about me and Beckett.
“Shut up, Lisa,” I said before I knew what I was saying.
“Don’t tell my wife to shut up,” James said, coming to Lisa’s defense and speaking to me for the first time all day.
“Don’t Lisa,” John said then, leaning forward in his chair. “Not here.” Even he knew what she was doing was bad form, but everyone else ignored him.
“You are acting extremely inappropriate yet again, Courtney,” Lydia said to me, overlooking her own daughter’s complete inappropriateness and calling me out. “Ryan, I just don’t know what you see in her. She’s so far beneath what we expected for you.”
My mouth dropped open, and I gasped in shock. It was one thing to talk about me behind my back, but to talk about me in front of my family was quite another.
“How dare you talk about my little girl that way,” my dad said, standing up at his place at the table. Neither Stacey, nor my mom, said anything to stop him.
“Oh, please. Mother is right,” Lisa said, and then she turned to Ryan. He had opened his mouth to no doubt defend me, but she spoke before he could. “She’s cheating on you, Ryan, with that ex-boyfriend of hers. You should know that.”
My dad froze in his spot, and all eyes turned to me waiting for me to respond. It was then that I saw Ryan’s face, and my heart broke into a million pieces.
“Why am I not surprised,” he said, as he got up, calmly threw down his napkin and walked out the front door.
The entire room was silent as they watched the entrance to the dining room that he’d just left through. It took me three seconds to get up from my seat, my napkin falling to the floor as I ran after Ryan. By the time I caught up to him, he was unlocking the door to his Porsche.
“Ryan stop!” I yelled, causing him to look up.
His expression was terrifying. I ran up to him, putting my hands on his arm. He shrugged me off.
“Please, let me explain,” I said breathlessly.
“You have one minute to tell me what the fuck my sister was talking about, and you’d better hope to God that there’s a justifiable explanation for why she said what she did.”
He was fuming and his hands were shaking at his sides. He took a few deep breaths in, trying to calm himself.
“Tell me you didn’t sleep with that asshole,” he said, his tone much calmer, and I could tell he was trying hard to keep his composure. “Tell me Lisa doesn’t know what she’s talking about and that you never touched him because that’s pretty much the only thing I’m going to be okay with hearing at this point.”
I swallowed hard, knowing I wouldn’t get to tell him in private. This was the moment I needed to come clean, and it couldn’t have been a worse time.
“I can’t do that, Ryan,” I said, the tears starting to fall down my cheeks, as I watched his eyes go wide with rage.
“When?” he demanded. “When did you do it? How long was I out of town before you put me out of your mind for someone who didn’t love you enough to stick around when things got shitty?”
“Ryan, don’t,” I said. “It’s not important. It just happened. I’m so sorry. Please, you have to understand. Please let me explain.”
“Who initiated it?” he asked, ignoring my pleadings.
I felt like I was on trial.
“We both did,” I said, giving in to the fact that I wasn’t going to get to explain, but it wasn’t like it mattered. We were over. Explaining it would only make things worse.
“God dammit!” Ryan shouted at the sky.
“Everything okay, Courtney?” Beckett asked, coming up behind Ryan at the worst possible moment.
I looked up in fear, realizing this was the wrong place for him to be. Ryan was pissed, and Beckett was just as culpable as me in this situation that had Ryan so enraged.
“You’ve got to be joking me,” Ryan said, reeling around to see Beckett standing there.
“I just heard shouting, so I wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Beckett said, taking a very relaxed stance, as he looked over at me.
I waved my hands wildly, trying to get him to leave.
“Everything’s fucking perfect,” Ryan said. “I was just leaving, so this whore is all yours.”
My eyes went wide, not only at Ryan’s comment, but because as soon as it was out of his mouth, Beckett’s fist was in Ryan’s face. Ryan flew back against his Porsche, twisting as his body slamming into the metal. Blood poured out of his nose, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was suddenly up on his feet, lunging at Beckett. Before I knew what was happening, they were both on the ground and punches were flying.
My hands were covering my mouth, as I tried to stifle screams and simultaneously figure out what to do. There was no way I could pull them apart. They were too strong. Should I get my father? Frank? He was a big guy. It was then that something ran past me and jumped into the fray. I realized it was John as his fist connected solidly with Beckett’s face.
I screamed. It was now two against one, and Beckett wasn’t going to be able to stand his ground. He was bigger than both guys, but they were tag-teaming him and he definitely wasn’t benefiting from it.
Then, before I realized he was outside, my dad was pulling Ryan off of Beckett, Charles was pulling John up and Frank had Beckett standing up, his arms locked behind his back as he tried to go after Ryan again. His right eye was swelling and he had a cut on his jaw. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, his sleeve hanging listlessly around his bicep. He was covered in grass, as were Ryan and John, who also had their fair share of injuries. Blood dripped onto Ryan’s shirt, and I was pretty sure his nose was broken. Beckett had drops of blood on his t-shirt from Ryan’s nose, the cut on his chin or maybe both. John’s lip was busted, and he was touching it with his finger as if he was just realizing he was bleeding. I stood there, my hands covering my mouth, wide-eyed as I appraised the scene that I’d caused.
I felt Stacey put her arm around me. “You okay?” she whispered, and I just shook my head from side to side, unable to speak.
Lydia was glaring at me as she was ushering her family into their cars. She denied the first aid my mom had offered to her sons, letting her know they would be going to the hospital, and Beckett would hear from their lawyer. My dad stood between Ryan’s Porsche and Beckett, just in case either lunged at each other before Ryan left.
We all stood there as the Carsons drove off, leaving behind a group that was a mix of battered, shocked and disillusione
d. As soon as they were out of sight, my mother was in front of Beckett, fussing over his cuts. He let her lead him inside so she could get him some ice and bandage his cut. I followed them, sitting down at the kitchen table while my mom tossed Beckett at bag of frozen peas that he promptly put over his eye that was already swollen shut. He didn’t look over at me, although I knew he knew I was there.
After my mom felt she had sufficiently tended to Beckett’s injuries, she left the room, eyeing me as she did. I knew she was telling me to talk to him, and to tell him the truth because for the first time in almost a month, I was alone with Beckett. When he wouldn’t look at me, I moved to the seat that was next to him, pulling it out so I could sit across from him. He finally looked at me with the eye that wasn’t covered by the now dripping bag of frozen peas but didn’t say anything as I settled in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” I said, knowing it was probably the wrong thing to say, but I couldn’t come up with anything better at the time.
“For what?” Beckett asked, all emotion drained from his voice.
“Lots of things,” I said. “I’m sorry you got punched.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said dryly, as he pulled the bag of peas away from his eye and set it on the table.
I sucked in a breath, as I took in the purplish swollen lump that surrounded his eye.
“That bad, huh?” Beckett asked.
“No, it’s not that bad,” I said, trying to make him feel better.
“You’ve never been a good liar, Court,” he said. “I know you’re not telling the truth now.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
“Quit apologizing,” he said, sighing loudly. “It’s not helping.”
“Thank you for defending me,” I said, which only garnered another sigh from him. I reached out to touch the spot above his eye, running my thumb over his eyebrow. Beckett closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I took my opportunity. I leaned forward and kissed him softly on his mouth, careful to avoid the cut on his chin. I guess he wasn’t expecting that because he jerked back in surprise as soon as my lips touched his.
“Courtney,” he said, his good eye flying open. “Don’t do that.” He shook his head. “Please.”
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