For long minutes, neither of us spoke. Considering she’d given up doing anything more than giving me a disappointed shake of her head for years, I wasn’t sure what she planned to say then or if she expected me to start pouring out my goddamn heart and apologizing profusely.
Neither would happen.
Not with her.
I had a good mom. The four of us put her through hell—me especially. Still, she rolled with whatever we dealt. She publicly stood up for us and defended us to the death. But there was no denying that she was lost when it came to me. That the possibility of what I would do next had worried her since I was a little kid. There was no denying that if someone claimed I did something . . . she absolutely believed it.
Feared it.
Agonized over it.
I’d learned long before Savannah ever came into my life that there was no talking about my anger to her or anyone else. They didn’t understand, and they wouldn’t hear what I had to say anyway.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she grabbed the pot to pour a second cup for herself.
I lowered my chin. “Not the first time I’ve spent the night in a holding cell.”
She sucked in an exaggerated breath as if trying to gather her strength or peace and said, “With Hunter.”
“I don’t give a shit if he’s there or not.”
She slammed down the mug just as she’d begun lifting it, her devastated stare snapping to me. “That is the biggest crock of shit I have ever heard, and how dare you use that language in my kitchen.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, but I fought it. “Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry.”
Her head shook as she studied me. “What happened?”
My amusement faded as the brief glimpses I could remember of the fight flashed through my mind. “I got arrest—”
“Not last night,” she said, voice softening. “With you. What has happened? These past few years, there’s been a change in you. More fighting, more arrests. You’re . . .” She glanced away, throat working furiously. “You’re so angry. More than ever, Beau, and everyone can see it. Savannah can see it.”
My jaw twitched at the sound of her name.
“Can’t you?” Mom nearly begged.
I didn’t respond even though I knew she was right—I’d known.
And I knew why.
That night with Madison had destroyed everything.
I’d been racked with guilt and fear for those months before deciding to tell Savannah. Before Madison had turned the tables and decided to leave.
Agreeing to that bullshit had been the second biggest mistake of my life.
These years of watching Savannah break over Madison’s leaving. The constant reminder that my fiancée wasn’t the same because of it—because of me—took its toll. All that anger and guilt building and building and unleashing on anyone who crossed my path.
“Beau, something’s gotta change,” she said when she realized I wasn’t going to answer.
“I’m aware.”
“Savannah used to come here or stay at county until they released you, but she’s stopped doing that in the last year.”
I instinctively glanced toward the entryway at the news, every cell in my body responding. Needing to find Savannah to fix what I’d done.
“Instead, she’s been calling to let us know when it happens . . . but the call we received last night was from one of the deputies,” she said, her tone at once wary and frustrated. “The only reason we knew she was getting you this morning was because she’d just arrived when your dad called to get information on what was gonna happen to you. And now?” She looked around as if to remind me that Savannah wasn’t there. “Do you see what’s happening?”
“Yes,” I said gruffly.
“You’re going to lose her, son.”
My eyelids slowly closed and my fingers curled into fists so tight that my scabbed-over knuckles split. I lowered my hands from the table to my lap even though I was sure my mom had already seen them.
I felt weak, like my body was gonna give out beneath me even though I was sitting. Because what my mom was saying was too real of a possibility.
Too damn real.
“I think I already am,” I admitted on a strained breath.
I think I have been for two and a half years.
I shoved away from the table, stepping over the bench and stalking away as my mom called after me.
“Beau! Beau, come back here!”
I snatched the first pair of keys I saw near the door and continued outside, never slowing as I hit the fob for what ended up being Sawyer’s truck and headed that way. Climbing in and cranking the engine before pulling away from the house.
My stare drifted to the Rileys’ house as I passed it, but Savannah’s car wasn’t there. Or at the plantation house or the dance studio or anywhere else I thought she would’ve gone.
After making a lap around town, I pulled down the side path of the plantation house and shut Sawyer’s truck off.
The action bringing a weird sense of déjà vu from the day before.
But the fear gripping my chest and making it impossible to breathe . . . that was new.
Grabbing my phone, I scrolled through the contacts until I found her name, then called the number there as I had every month for the past two and a half years.
But the familiar, automated alert that the number had been disconnected could be heard before I’d ever lifted my phone to my ear.
Not that I’d expected any different. At that point, I couldn’t even be sure if I’d still been hoping for different. But I’d needed to try one last time.
Ending the call, I opened up the messages and started one to her.
Thumbs tapping quickly and angrily on the screen as I forced myself to let everything go.
You’re out living your new life and pretending this shit didn’t happen. I’m here still picking up all the pieces of your leaving. Every day I’m reminded of that agreement. Of what we did and what I know and how I destroyed the love of my fucking life. Of how I’m still destroying my life with her because of you. And I can’t let that happen.
Fuck you for leaving, Madison. You trapped me in a life of guilt, and I hate you for it. We should’ve told them that first day. We should’ve told them that last night instead of agreeing you were gonna go because how the hell am I supposed to tell her now? YEARS LATER.
I would give anything to go back and change what we did, but we can’t, and you left. You refused to come back even when we helped Hunter go after you. So, I’m done. I’m done letting this guilt weigh me down and destroy everything important to me.
You ruined my life by leaving Amber. Now? I hope to God you never come back.
I pressed send, not bothering to wait for when it would tell me the message was undeliverable. I’d just needed to get it out at least once so I could let go. So Savannah and I could move on.
I got out of the truck and stormed through the back of the property, body agitated and mind racing too fast to hold on to any one thought. But Savannah was there—over and over and over again. Looking crushed and disappointed and at a loss.
And I couldn’t breathe.
I stopped near the far end of the property where Savannah had always pictured our wedding. One hand pressed to my heaving chest and gripping my hair with the other as everything pushed down on me.