Page 69 of Every Promise Broken

“We have such a long history…” I start, trying to gather all my thoughts. “The end of our marriage gutted me.” Meeting his gaze across the exam table, I look away before I add, “He told me he was still in love with me the other night.”

“Did you honestly think he wasn’t?” The question is like a sucker punch to the gut. “Whit, I’m not sure if you’re purposely ignoring what’s right in front of your face, or if you truly can’t see it, but that man has never stopped loving you. And it would appear everybody in this town can see that except for you.”

I don’t say anything; I can’t. My throat is tight, and I’m worried if I respond, I’ll do something ridiculous, like cry.

“The question is,” Shooter continues. “Do you still have those feelings for him?”

The question shouldn’t make my stomach dip, or my heart race, but it does. “Yeah, I do,” I murmur, feeling like a two-ton weight’s been lifted with that one confession. “And I’m starting to wonder if maybe I never stopped feeling this way.”

“You’re only human, Whit,” he says gently. “He was your first love, but more than that, he was the family you needed when you didn’t have yours. And it’s not like you two got a divorce because you fell out of love. I think it would be different if it were a case of you guys having grown apart. Honestly, it would be more bizarre to me if you didn’t still have feelings for him.”

I breathe out a sigh, my chest tight. “I don’t know what to do. It feels like I’m just asking to get hurt again, but I can’t seem to make myself stop.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“Not really.” My chest tightens with nerves, but it’s the truth.

“Do you think maybe it’s simply because of your proximity to one another?” he asks. “Like, when you go back to your own house and his nana goes home, things will go back to the way they were?”

“Well, I’m not entirely sure that it’s only the proximity.”

“Why do you say that?” he asks, brow arched, a hint of a smile playing on the corner of his lip.

My pulse is a steady drum in my ears. I haven’t spoken about that night to anybody, except my therapist, and I wasn’t entirely planning to, but I guess that’s out the window now. I glance up at Shooter, then quickly look away because there’s no way I can look at him when I say this.

“We, uh… Well, there was one time before his nana came to town that we, uh, kind of messed around.”

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Shooter whisper-yells. “When did this happen?”

“It may have happened at your boyfriend’s birthday party.” I wince as Shooter’s jaw drops open.

Breathing out a laugh, he says, “So, you’re saying the party I threw for Sterling is what brought you and Conrad back together?” He clutches his chest dramatically, and I already regret telling him this. “Sterling is going to get a kick out of knowing that we’re the reason you two lovebirds found your way back to each other.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” I huff. “First of all, you cannot tell Sterling about this, and?—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, buddy,” Shooter cuts in. “I tell Sterling everything. Sorry, not sorry. But he’s a vault and would never say anything.” I glower at him, but he simply smiles and says, “Continue.”

“Second of all, who is saying we’re getting back together? And even if we were, it definitely isn’t your doing.”

“But it happened at the birthday party I threw for my boyfriend.”

“So? It wasn’t like the celebration overjoyed us so much we lost our clothes together. I had a rough day prior to coming over, and he just happened to be there when I needed somebody.”

Shooter looks at me crooked, like he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. And okay, I get it. I’m not exactly selling my point that well.

“I’m still taking credit when you two inevitably get re-married,” he murmurs. “I’d like to be mentioned in the vows. Or better yet, I’d like to be the best man.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I mutter under my breath, looking at Sophie, who’s already watching me with curious, wide eyes. “I’m so sorry that your new dad is a moron. Your other dad seems to have more of a head on his shoulders, at least.”

“Hey, fuck off, asshole.” Shooter chuckles before sobering up. “All jokes aside, I think you should do what feels right to you. If exploring things with Conrad is what your heart wants, then I think you should do that. Maybe some distance was what you both needed to come back stronger than ever. I don’t think you’re ‘asking to get hurt,’ like you said. You never know until you try, and if it still doesn’t work out, at least now you know. But on the flip side…what if itdoeswork out? Wouldn’t that be worth the risk?”

My heart is in my throat hearing him say all of that. It’s like he somehow knew exactly what I needed to hear.

“I hate this,” I breathe out. “Shouldn’t love be less confusing than this? Less difficult?”

“Nah.” He waves a hand in front of him. “Where’s the fun in that? Nobodyactuallywants anything that comes too easily. The best things in life are those you have to work for. Andbesides, you’re the one making it difficult.” I open my mouth to respond, but he keeps going, not giving me a chance. “Listen, I get your hesitancy, I really do, but he’s told you how he feels. He’s put himself out there. This could be easy if you just let go and let yourself try again. For what it’s worth, from an outsider’s perspective, I can tell you want to, but you’re stopping yourself. Just try, man. Let yourself take what you want.”

I glance over at him and smile. “Thanks, Shooter.”

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