Page 59 of Synced to Us

I learned a lot about him last night—more than I’ve known about any other man. I’m usually versed in men’s bank accounts, secret cash stashes, and risky investments, but I’ve never taken the time to really know a guy. Least of all to care about the outcome.

My brows grow tight. I reach up, massaging between them. Wyn’s worry lines have grown on me.

The first thing I do when I slip out of bed is go take a shower. The hallway is blissfully deserted when I tip-toe across. Brad’s slumbering presence, however, is somewhere near the vicinity. We heard them come home last night, stumbling through the top floor and Lucy whisper-yelling that he better not wake the kids.

Once cleaned up, I tie my hair up in a bun, throw on a loose peach tee and denim shorts, then head downstairs in search of food.

Lisa’s there when I arrive, sitting the twins at the table for breakfast. She turns her head and spots me. “Morning!”

Her smile is almost maniacal, definitely pleading, and painful to look at. I nod and ease away, scanning the kitchen counter where croissants and orange wedges are laid out.

“I went to the bakery as soon as it opened,” Lucy explains. “Best carbs in Thicketville. Can I make you a plate?”

“It’s fine. I got it.”

A quick search of the kitchen and attached main room doesn’t appear to show Brad or May, and for that I’m relieved. I grab a plate from one of the upper cabinets, asking, “You guys get home okay?”

“Oh—sure. One of Brad’s friends drove us. Uh…” She glances at her children, ensures their attention is elsewhere, and then drifts closer to me. “I’m so sorry, Dee. For everything.”

I lower my plate. “I’m not expecting an apology from you. You weren’t even there.”

“But I should’ve been. I…” She shifts to her children again and then back. “I’ve known about McKenna for a while, and when you said you were her best friend, I wondered, but was too nervous to ask. But what Brad did last night, the way he confronted you, I’m the idiot who thought he’d be able to control himself, considering you’re his brother’s girlfriend—and a serious one at that.”

Now it’s my turn for my gaze to slide away.

“While I don’t necessarily agree with what you and McKenna did, that was your choice, and you are Wyn’s choice. That’s something Brad and I both have to respect. But when Brad gets to drinking…” Lucy chews on her lower lip. “On top of seeing Wyn swarmed by fans and made into the center of attention in the bar. He’s sensitive these days. Feeling stuck. He loves being a teacher, don’t get me wrong, but we’re still here, in our childhood town, sorta just … chugging along. It gets to him sometimes, especially with his younger brother managing to escape and experience the world…” Lucy trails off. Blinks. “Anyway. I’m so sorry.”

I set the plate down and take a minute to think. “I understand he may be feeling inadequate in light of his brother’s success. He certainly revels in Wyn’s failures. But, Lucy, your husband tried to hit me last night.”

Lucy’s throat bobs. She turns her face away.

“Lucy.” I reach for her arm. “Has he tried something like that with you?”

“No.” Lucy’s head whips back around, her eyes wet. “No. Never. I don’t—that wasn’t my husband last night. The Brad I dated, the one I married, he wouldn’t…I don’t know what’s become of him, Dee. For the last few years he’s been so distant, stressed, another man. He snaps at the kids more than he plays with them. Corrects me more than supports me. Wyn’s fame was supposed to bring all of us up, and it did. But Brad hated relying on Wyn’s income and was determined for us to make it on our own. Now that’s Wyn back to being a regular guy, though… Suddenly Brad has no drive and my layoff was the worst thing that could happen to us. It was my fault, apparently. I can’t make sense of it.”

Lucy’s voice is thick with emotion. Throughout her speech, she keeps looking to her kids, likely making sure they can’t hear her.

I wonder how many times she had to keep herself together like this.

My hands curl into fists. “Give me a sec.”

“Where are you going?”

I’m already through the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time. Brad and Lucy’s room is across from Wyn’s. I don’t knock before I stroll in.

Brad’s on his back, his arms spread and his mouth slack and sucking in air. He doesn’t see it coming when I hook his throat between my thumb and index finger and put my knee on his crotch.

His eyes fly open and his hands and legs shoot up, but I’ve predicted all that and keep my balance as he struggles.

I dip my head low to his. “Here’s the thing, asshole. I’ve dealt with guys like you my entire life. The proud ones, the ones who use hot air to battle their crippling loneliness, the assholes who try to hide their blatant inadequacy by being loud. You know, the types of guys who make their wives their last priority.”

Brad gurgles in response, but his bulging eyes fill with rage as his hands smack against my arms and he kicks at air.

I bare my teeth. “I fend off guys like you all the time. In fact, I have a blackbelt in douchebaggery. Next time, when you’re underwater, it won’t be Wyn who sticks your head in a toilet and leaves it there. Fuck with me again, and you’ll lose your most precious appendage.”

With that, I jerk away before he can spear up and spout his rage. Turns out, there’s nothing to worry over since all he does fumble with his tangled sheets and cough while he strangles out obscenities.

Lucy hovers at the doorway. Her hand covers her mouth, but the skin under her eyes twitches in a way that indicates she’s fighting off a smile.

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