Page 63 of Starting Over

“He lied. We never dated. Not until my father told me we were getting married,” she whispered.

Looking up at me, she asked, “Why would he lie?”

“Because he knew I liked you. He knew you were the first girl I ever noticed. He knew before we left that I wanted you. Every time I wrote him a letter, I asked about you. What you were doing, if you were seeing anyone. I asked him to watch over you until I could come back. I wanted to come back to you. I met girls in Arkansas, but they paled in comparison to you. By the time I was old enough to think about dating, he told me you two had fallen in love. Told me it was my fault for asking him to watch over you. That I pushed you two together.”

“No.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. Duane and I were friends, but we weren’t that close. After you movedaway, I only saw him at school. Until my father told me that his father had suggested we marry. That we would be a good match.”

She looked up at me, and her eyes flashed with anger.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. You want to see the fucking letters? I still have them in a box. Tucked away with every other memory of you.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because Duane was a selfish bastard. Your dad was a captain. He wanted to be made. He knew if he married you, he could work his way up to captain.”

“He never did.”

“What?”

“He never made captain. He was only a soldier. He always butted heads with Tyran. Tyran kept him from being promoted.”

“What the fuck does Tyran have to do with it?”

Reenie titled her head, confused. “He’s Sal’s right hand.”

“Tyran Fitzpatrick is Sal’s right hand?” I ran my hand through my hair. This was fucking great. “He’s a fucking psychopath.”

“Well, birds of a feather...”

I turned away from Declan. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Why would Duane lie to me all these years? He never said a word about talking to Declan.

“Do you have any idea what Duane was looking into?”

I told him to stay out of it. I told him to leave things be, but he couldn’t fucking do it. He did exactly what benefitted Duane Murphy. Fuck anyone else and the life they tried to build.

“Not really. He only said it was about his sister, Darcy. Do you remember her?”

“Yea, I remember,” I mumbled.

“Well, he was looking for her. He never told me any details, just set everything up in case something happened and told me to move here.”

Letting out a heavy breath, I lifted my hand up and laid it on her cheek. “You were supposed to be mine.”

“I didn’t know,” she said, her eyes dropping to my mouth.

“Yes you did.”

“Yes, I did,” she whispered.

Sliding my hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, I pulled her forward and pressed my lips to hers.

I was fifty years old and felt like I was finally getting my first kiss.

A kiss that was decades too late, but worth it all the same. With my thumb under her chin, I tipped her head back, deepening the kiss. Licking at her lips, I coaxed her mouth open and slid my tongue between her teeth.

Walking her backwards, I pushed her against the closed door and pressed my body against hers. Her hands grabbed at my waist, her nails digging into my sides.

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