“It was your mom, she’d always say you’d come home and want your things when you did,” Wyatt says with a shrug.
Shaking my head, I pinch my eyes closed when they fill up with tears, again. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I try to take a few calming breaths before I open my eyes again and look at the two rough men standing across from me.
“Did you talk to them often?” I ask, needing to know.
I’m not sure why I need to know, but I just do. It’s not as though my guilt will disappear, it will most likely only grow, but I just can’t not know. Wyatt lifts his hand, running his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends slightly.
His gaze finds mine and he smiles, though it’s hard to tell beneath the beard, but I can see it in his eyes.
“I would stop by and visit if they were on the front porch, or if your mama was in her flower garden. She’d always have some fresh-brewed sweet tea for me. When she passed and your dad left, he asked me to keep an eye on the place. Wish I woulda had more time to keep up the place, but seems the girl he hired to clean has done a good job on the inside. No dust or anything.”
Pressing my lips together, I roll them as I think about what I want to say or ask next. I’m not sure. I have a million questions that I could ask Wyatt about my family, about Ford, but it all seems too late.
“Learned a while ago, Stevie. You can’t go back. What’s done is done. But you don’t know what can be until you stop living in the past. Wasted fifteen years living back in high school, repeating it every fucking day and making myself miserable. You gotta move on, darlin’. It ain’t healthy to stay back there, you can’t change a damn thing.”
Snapping my brows together, I think about his words. He’s not wrong, not at all. He’s absolutely right, but why does the thought of leaving the past, in the past, terrify me? It shouldn’t. I should be happy to move on, in fact, I thought that I had.
“I tried to apologize, I messed it all up. Probably made it worse,” I whisper, speaking more to myself than to Wyatt and Rylan.
Rylan clears his throat and I lift my eyes to meet his. “I didn’t know you well in school, but I have to say that Wyatt’s right. I spent a lot of years feeling like I was destined to be something, and then I spent five years in prison.
“I came out ready for a change and it wasn’t easy, but I did it. If you want something to change, Stephanie, you have to make it happen. Look at all of us. None of us had it easy, not Wyatt, not Beaumont, none of us.
“Sometimes the journey to get to where you want to be is fucking rough, but you won’t regret it, not a single fucking second of it. Staying in limbo, missing out on what could be, that’s something to regret.” Rylan turns and walks away without saying another word.
“He’s going to go home to his wife, his kids. Something he never thought that he would have. I’m going home to my wife and daughter too. What about you, Stevie?” Wyatt asks.
“I’m staying in a hotel,” I say quietly.
I know what he’s asking, but admitting it aloud feels really fucking pathetic. Wyatt arches a brow, waiting for me to say the pathetic words aloud, forcing them out of me. Looking down at the ground, I slowly lift my gaze up to meet his.
“My fiancé was an asshole, and I didn’t love him when he asked me, or when I accepted his proposal. He cheated on me, constantly. I haven’t been in love since Ford. When I leave here, I’ll go home to my house in Malibu, my empty house in Malibu, and I’ll be completely alone, as always.”
Wyatt takes a step backward, his eyes scanning mine. He shakes his head once. “You know, you don’t have to go back to Malibu and you don’t have to be alone. The women officially love you, they’d love to have another female in their pack.”
“How would Ford feel about that? Not happy, I’m sure.”
Wyatt snorts. “Don’t mistake his emotions, Stevie. If he didn’t give a fuck about you, you’d feel that.”
“Oh, I feel his emotions alright. His hate is fucking strong,” I snap.
Wyatt’s eyes widen as he lets out a chuckle. “Whatever you have to tell yourself. But, just remember that line between love and hate is hairline thin. Plus, known the man my whole life, he couldn’t hate you if he tried. He feels hurt, betrayed, and confused, but hate? Never.”
Just like his cousin, he turns and walks away from me abruptly and without another word, leaving me with only my thoughts. I don’t know what to think. What to do. Looking down, I realize that I’m still holding the picture of me and Ford in my fingers.
Lifting the photograph, I take another look at it. I really look at our faces, not just the surface, but I look deeply. Yes, I look happy. But I also look like I want more, and I did then, I was so hungry to see my name in lights. Ford though, he looks completely content.
Wyatt and Rylan are right. I can’t live in the past, and neither should Ford. I don’t know what I need to do to move past this thing between us, this hurt and pain, but I need to try. Licking my lips, I decide that I’m going to try starting tomorrow.
Lifting my fingers to my mouth, I can still feel his lips on mine, the way he kissed me, it was better than I ever remembered. Ford kissed me like he was a man dying of thirst and I was the only thing that could quench that need.
I’m not sure what the future holds for us, if there even could be one, but I do know that neither of us is living a happy life this way. We’re both completely stuck in limbo, just like Wyatt suggested.
I don’t want to be in limbo anymore. I don’t want to watch the rest of the world living their lives around me from my fancy-assed empty house. I don’t need to be surrounded by hundreds of people, all I need are a few real ones and I’m not sure I’ve been around anyone real since leaving Gallup.
Nodding, I turn back to my wedding dress. Taking my time, I neatly fold it, placing it in the middle of the bed. I’ll never wear it again. It was made for a different person. I’m no longer the girl who put this on, then ripped it off in a panic and ran. That doesn’t mean that I despise the dress or the girl who once wore it.
Once it’s folded, I place the picture of me and Ford down in the center of the dress then turn toward the closet. I know without a doubt that this closet will hold all of the demons of the past.
There are at least three shoeboxes of keepsakes in here, and another full shoebox of letters that Ford and I would pass in the halls between classes. I can’t read those, my heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Sliding the closet door open, I let out a giggle at the sight that greets me. My clothes, all of them, including prom dresses, my graduation cap and gown, everything down to my old worn out flip-flops are exactly where I left them.
I spend the rest of the afternoon going through my bedroom, taking the time to separate everything into keep, donate, and trash piles. I don’t open the keepsake boxes, but I do put them in the keep pile, along with all of the photographs on my bulletin board.
It takes me until midnight to finish going through the first eighteen years of my life, but by the time that I leave and head back to my hotel room, I feel a lot better, as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders—a heavy one.
Tomorrow, I’m going to get up, dress in my jeans, and head out to Ford’s property. I’m going to help him with his chores for the day and hopefully talk to him. I want the bad air between us to be gone, we both need to move on from this place of limbo and find our happiness. Even if I don’t, he truly deserves it.