Page 35 of Ride By Your Side

“Maybe we should stop,” I finally decide.

“Thank God, because even though I said I’m good to drive and could handle it, this headache is coming back with a vengeance, and I’m ready for a break.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll start looking for somewhere for us to stay,” I offer as I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone.

“The closer, the better,” he adds, and I shoot him a sideways glance.

“You really need a break that badly? Why didn’t you say something earlier?” I ask, returning my gaze to the open Google page.

He shrugs. “I know you’re dealing with a lot, and the last thing I want to do is add to that by complaining about something I brought on myself. If you really wanted to get home, then I’d have done whatever was needed to make it happen.”

“Miles,” I admonish, turning in my seat to face him more fully. “Please don’t do that. It’s not like you aren’t going throughsomething too. Plus, we both know Blair forced you to come with me in the first place and it’s not like you were planning on getting married anytime soon, least of all to me.”

“That may be true, but I’m a Bennett. I’m used to being the town fuck-up, even if I’ve done nothing in my life to prove that to them. Maybe it was finally time for me to give them some ammo,” he says with a casual shrug, his tone betraying a hint of bitterness.

My face drops. “I’m sorry,” I apologize, my bottom lip trembling, as I feel the sting of tears burning the back of my eyes. I know Miles always blamed me for getting his sister into trouble when we were younger, and while I tried so hard to prove that he was wrong, now I’ve gone and done the same exact thing he always accused me of—this time, to him.

“Don’t apologize. I’m a grown man, Vee. I made my own choices yesterday. You didn’t force me to do any of that. I did it all willingly.”

“Fine,” I relent, since I highly doubt I’ll be able to change his mind on the matter. He’s stubborn, something I’ve known about him forever. “But please, next time tell me if you need a break or want to stop. This is our trip, not just mine, and I don’t want you feeling like you have to do something just for my benefit.”

“Deal,” he says, his eyes not straying from the road. However, I’m not sure I believe him. His willingness to go above and beyond for me is truly admirable, but right now, I feel so unworthy—I don’t deserve that level of kindness, especially not from him.

This road trip was supposed to be a chance for a fresh start, a way to clear my mind after Pete. But now, with each passing mile, I find myself haunted by Miles’ old judgments of me from the past. Maybe I am nothing but a selfish brat, ruining the lives of others without a second thought or care for how my actionsaffect those around me. At this point, I probably deserve all the bad karma that’s likely to come my way as we head home.

22

Miles

ImaynotknowVeronicaas well as my sister does, but this week I’ve learned that she’s a whirlwind of activity, constantly buzzing around and chattering away like the damn Energizer Bunny. Sitting quietly is not in her nature. Most of our trip has been her talking my ear off, and the only time I got a break was when she was listening to one of her murder podcasts or when she’d actually tired herself out enough to sleep.

However, ever since we decided to stop for one last night before our journey home tomorrow, an uncomfortable silence has settled between us.

Even when we ended up in a tiny diner for dinner, she was quiet, barely speaking. The only words exchanged were the ones I initiated—so clearly, not much.

“You sure you’re okay?” I finally ask as we make the short walk back to our hotel, where thankfully, we were able to get separate rooms. We may be married, but that’s in title only. Neither of usis ready to pretend there’s more to this relationship than what it actually is.

“I’m fine,” she says, sending me a tight-lipped smile as we cross the street.

“Yeah, that was convincing,” I deadpan. I might have let her have her space in the car, and even at dinner, but I’m done playing pretend—even if that was what old Miles would have much preferred. In fact, the Miles from the start of this trip would have preferred we not talk to each other at all. Now, I unfortunately find that I care a little too much about her feelings—something I’m trying very hard not to read into.

“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind,” she admits, folding her arms across her chest as she somehow seems to sink even further into herself.

“I know I’m probably not your preferred audience, but I’m a pretty good listener, or at least that’s what Blair tells me,” I push, despite my better judgment.

“She is my usual go-to person for all my problems, and while you may somewhat look like her with your gorgeous baby blue eyes, I’m thinking you should just wait until tomorrow when I can actually chat with my usual Bennett sibling.”

“Try me,” I goad her. I should let this go, but I can’t. I’ve always been a fixer. It’s why I own and operate a mechanic shop. Sure, maybe the only person I usually care to fix problems for is Blair, but somehow, Veronica has weaseled her way in, and I’m desperate to see a smile on her face again.

“Okay, well, other than the obvious of having to return home with a husband, I realized that I’m also returning with no place to live.” She sighs, the weight of her words causing her shoulders to physically slump.

“What do you mean?” I ask, my brows drawing together. “I get that you’re no longer moving in with Pete, but you have your apartment, right? Can’t you just renew your lease?”

“Nope,” she says, the ‘p’ popping out of her mouth like a bubble. “Unfortunately, my landlord has already rented it out to his niece, so I’ll only have a week after we get back to move my things out. I mean, I’m sure I’ll be able to find somewhere to rent eventually, but until then, it looks like I’m going to be the twenty-eight-year-old loser who has to move back in with her parents.”

I clench my jaw, trying to suppress the involuntary eye roll that wants to escape. “Oh, come on, things could be worse. In this economy, plenty of people live with their parents. Hell, some people would kill to have Mr. and Mrs. Prescott as their mom and dad. We both know they’d be happy to have you move back in.”

She shoots me an apologetic glance. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.” She winces. Given how close she is to my sister, it’s no surprise she knows all about our shitty parents, who could not have cared less about Blair or me, or what happened to us.

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