Page 29 of It's Not Home Without You

“Has… has she asked about me?” It was physically painful to get the words out. I hated how much I needed to know if she had… How much it matteredto me. I looked up at Russell who was watching me with pity. I got up. That was answer enough. I wasted time and energy on a bitch who tossed me aside when she found something better.

“We’ve been solving our issues. You haven’t exactly been our priority.”

“Honestly, I don’t know why I fucking asked.” A bitter laugh left my lips. “That girl fucking played me. She played me good. I can’t wait for her to leave; it’s what she’s fucking good at.” I let the door close without looking back at him. What Freya did shouldn’t matter; it was seven years ago. I had time to process and take my revenge with every woman I took to bed after her, except it made me feel empty and hollow.

By the time I made it back to my apartment, I had gotten myself under control. Abigail came out wearing a bright melon-colored dress, and I reminded myself why she was it for me. Why out of all the women who came after Freya, Abigail was the one who I would marry. I didn’t let myself think of anything else. I couldn’t, or I feared what would come out.

“You look beautiful.” I handed her the bouquet of roses and watched a smile light up her face.

“You look handsome, but you always do. God, Max, just a few more weeks for our big day. I can’t wait.” Abigail reached over and held my hand with a smile on her face the whole ride over to my brother’s. This was why Abigail and I worked so well. She was calm, collected, and sophisticated—everything I didn’t know I was looking for until one night our paths crossed.

I was on a path to self-destruction the way I went through booze and women. Even my mother knew I was beyond sowing my wild oats.

Everyone in my family knew what was wrong with me, or who it was, but her name was never uttered around me, except in hushed voices when my mother would blame that trashy girl, and I was at a point in my life where I agreed with her.

I was driving back from Superior when I noticed Abigail’s car had broken down just at the town’s entrance. It was a miracle I wasn’t drunk and didn’t have a woman with me already. Abigail wasn’t someone I had thought of since school ended. She’d left town to pursue a degree in communications, and I hadn’t seen her since graduation, but there she was in the middle of the night, car broken down outside of town, and she was the distraction I needed. Or so I thought, because Abigail Newton wasn’t a girl to be anyone’s distraction. Maybe at first it was the chase, and then it was just her and the calm she brought, but it was enough for me.I could see myself spending the rest of my life with her.

“Max, Abigail, I’m glad you’re here.” The smile on Rachael’s face would be believable if it weren’t a little too bright and her eyes weren’t puffy. Abigail turned to give me a look. We both knew she was probably crying all night. I knew I would hear it again today when we left, but my brother and Rachael’s marriage was their business, and I would not meddle. Prescott was who he had always been. Rachael knew what she was marrying when she said I do.

We were already having breakfast when my brother joined us.

“Sorry I’m late. Town business, you know how it goes. I want the elections to be over already. Abigail, you look lovelyas always. Brother, you look well.” He gave Rachael a quick peck and sat down. Is that how my life would be? Just a commodity with Abigail? I knew I would never be unfaithful to her, but was love even forever? And why was I thinking like this suddenly?

“I heard Freya Pratt was back in town. Is it true?”

I stopped chewing mid-bite, trying hard not to think of her and all the doubts that girl brought, but my brother had to open his mouth and let the floodgates open.

Why did I ever fall in love with her?

“Who’s Freya?” Rachael asked, probably wondering if it was another woman my brother would cheat on her with. Why word on my brother’s lascivious tendencies hadn’t gotten out yet was a surprise. Or maybe not. People in this town loved the Dunnetts and Newtons. Even when we were wrong, we were right. Money had a way of blinding people.

“No one of importance,” Abigail answered curtly.

Prescott smirked.“You tell yourself that, Abbi, but do you ever ask yourself where you would be right now if Freya hadn’t left town?”

I glared at my brother. The last thing I needed was Abigail asking questions. “That’s enough, Prescott.” My fork made a loud clank when it hit the plate, making the women jump back.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was a forbidden subject. It’s not like she broke your heart or anything.” The smug smile my brother gave me was more than enough proof he had accomplished what he wanted. Freya may have broken me, but I had put myself back together.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Seventeen years old

One more yearof high school. Junior year was a blur, and a lot of it had to do with Max’s decision to get his general education at a community college. His twenty-minute drive was nothing compared to him being a state away. We managed, and I loved it. The problem was his parents didn’t love it. Money wasn’t an issue for the Dunnetts. For them, there was no reason for Max to stay behind; everyone knew he did it for me.

My boy loved me, and I would not lie and say I didn’t occasionally feel like a burden, because I did.

At first, I worried Max would meet someone new and would forget about me. I was a junior in high school, and he was in his first year of college. There would be older girls, girls whom his parents would approve of, and I was a nobody busting my ass at Franny’s, so I could save upmoney. I knew I couldn’t afford to go to college, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t a hard worker. My summer job with Frank turned into a part-time now that Max was away at college. Rusty was putting in more hours with his dad, so I had free time on my hands. I hadn’t told Max, but since I met him, I took extra classes, trying to get all my credits so I could graduate early. One last year could turn into half a semester, and when he left, if he wanted to, I could go with him. I could get a job, and we could be close.

Contrary to what his family said, I wasn’t in it for his money; that hadn’t even crossed my mind when I met him. In fact, I rarely let Max buy me things, unless it was something super important and only because he made me feel guilty for not allowing him to be a good boyfriend. I was just excited it was summer, meaning I would see more of him since school was out.

“Freya, lover boy is waiting already. I told you to leave fifteen minutes ago!” Frankie yelled from the kitchen. “I ain’t paying you overtime, girl!”

Rolling my eyes, I continued to help him clean the tables. Frankie was understaffed today, and I would not leave him to finish on his own. It would take him twice as long. Max could wait. I loved my boy, but I would not leave Frankie high and dry after he gave me a job after some people made a show of not liking me there. And by some people, I mean the Newtons, specifically Abigail Newton

“It’s okay. We’re almost done. Besides, I got to keep that boy on his toes.” I winked at Frankie as I finished my last table.

“Girl, that boy would eat shit if he thought it’d make you happy.” That was gross. I didn’t answer Frankie because I knew he was right.

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