“No.” I wave my hands. “God. No.”
“Then what’s the issue? Because last I knew, you were single. Once he wakes up, he can confirm that, and then I’m pretty sure you can do whatever the hell you want.”
“I just feel guilty about this. Something about it doesn’t feel right,” I say.
“You’re such a fucking Rosewood.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“You have no reason to feel guilty. Brooks was a horrible person. He left you with a huge mess to clean up. He only ever thought about himself. You owe him nothing, especially not your loyalty. Don’t sacrifice your happiness for him.”
“It’s not him. I don’t want to hurt Brenda. She’s been so good to me, and we’ve become close over the years. She needs to hear it from Brooks. Once he tells her he left me, maybe we can move forward, but for the time being, I think we should step away from this for a bit.”
He says nothing, but his lips form a straight line. The hollow of his jaw flexes. I know he’s not satisfied with my proposal, but it doesn’t matter. This is how it has to be.
“You just show up at my door after all this time and expect me to run into your arms and throw the rest of my life—my obligations, my responsibilities—out the window. You can’t possibly be that delusional, right?” My arms fold, and I take a step back. “Just because we fucked doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how badly you screwed me over. It doesn’t change anything. It was just sex.”
“I can’t walk away from you again, and I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to call.”
“Sucks when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?”
“It’s not that,” he says. “We wasted almost an entire decade apart. I don’t want to go another day without you in my life. I’ve had a life without you. I don’t want to go back to that.”
“It’s not about what you want, Royal. It’s about doing the right thing.” I can’t believe I’m pushing him away like this. I waited and waited and waited for him to come back, and now I’m kicking him to the curb, despite the fact that he still very much loves me. Am I testing him? Am I doing this out of fear?
“What’s the right thing in this situation? Push away the only man you ever loved because you can’t stand to lose that pillar-of-the-community reputation of yours?”
“This is not about my reputation.”
“Damn right it is. You don’t want people to judge you and talk about you.”
“I don’t want to hurt Brenda Abbott. She’s been a second mother to me.”
“Don’t use Brenda as an excuse. She’s a sixty-year-old, grown woman. She’ll get over you. She’ll move on, trust me.”
“You still haven’t told me why you left.”
Royal groans, slamming a balled fist against the wall to his right. “Are we really having this conversation all over again? Right now?”
My face pinches, stubborn written all over it.
“I told you. Let’s get to know each other again, and I’ll tell you when I’m ready. And when you’re ready.”
“I am ready.”
“No, you’re not.” He grabs his jacket off a nearby coat rack and slips it over his shoulders.
The fact that he’s suddenly leaving on his own accord makes me want him to stay. Just a little.
I pushed and pushed and pushed, and now I’m getting what I wanted.
He’s leaving.
“All right,” he says, jaw clenched. He pulls in a deep breath and stares above my head. “I’m leaving. Because that’s what you want. And you have my number, so . . . guess I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
His hand grips the doorknob before I can protest. But why would I? I asked him to leave. The second he steps foot outside, the ball is in my court.
“I just need some time,” I say, as if seven years apart wasn’t enough time to figure shit out. The only thing I’m absolutely, one hundred percent sure of is that as much as I hate it, I still love this man. And that love is so deep, so much a part of me that I don’t think it’ll ever go anywhere.
I can’t deny it. Can’t ignore it. Can’t hide it. Can’t stuff it into the deep, dark crevices of my heart. His name is permanently tattooed on my soul.
Royal leaves.
Just like that.
All the things I was thinking about saying in this moment will never see the light of day.
I watch him drive away, and then I pack my bag and head to the hospital.
Nineteen
Royal
* * *
“The fuck you doing here?” I tense up the second I see my younger sister, Misty, leaning against my apartment doors. Her pock-marked face is covered in soggy tears, and her baggy eyes are bloodshot.
When she stands, the stench of unwashed hair and day-old alcohol breath fills the space around us.
“Royal.” She cries, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands like a toddler. “Rick died. He overdosed.”
Fuck.
There goes one of the only two people who know the truth about what happened that night.
“I have no sympathy for you.” I motion for her to move and slide my key in the door. “Leave.”
“I’m sorry, Royal,” she sobs. “For everything.”
“Little late for that.”
“You’re the only brother I have. I need you in my life.” She places a hand on my shoulder, and I brush it off.
“Heard that before.” I snap at her. “And we all know how that turned out.”
“I was just a kid,” she says. “You have to let it go at some point. You have to forgive us and move on from that. We did.”
The fact that my little sister and her forty-year-old boyfriend so casually moved on from the most pivotal event in my young adult life only serves to infuriate me even further.
“You can’t just apologize for something like that,” I say. “What you two did goes beyond apologies.”
“We’re family,” she says. “You can’t hate me forever.”
“Like hell. I can, and I will.”
“I wish I could change what happened.” Her frizzy blonde hair highlights three greasy inches of dark brown roots at the top. The sweater hanging off her bony shoulder has what appear to be moth holes, and her jeans are barely held up by a skinny belt using its last hole.
She’s using again.
Though I’m not sure she ever stopped.
Haven’t seen her in seven years.
Since that night.
If there’s anything I learned in my life, it’s to never, ever trust a user. They’re professional liars, skilled at ruining lives—their own and otherwise.
One little lie was all it took to ruin mine.
“You disgust me,” I say. “And you need to get clean, Misty. And I say that not because I care, but because you fucking smell like shit and you’re a pathetic excuse for a human. A waste of oxygen is what you are.”
Misty’s eyes shake and her fists clench. She can’t stand still, and she’s in a constant state of motion. My guess is she’s jonesing for another fix, and sadly for her, her main supplier just bit the dust.