Page 23 of Dibs
“You’ll always be a pussy, Deac. If she ever lets you inside of her, don’t forget who was there first! Now, fuck off out of my way. This is my fucking house.”
Sean pushes past Deacon as I creep back into the kitchen and pretend I haven’t heard a word.
“Where’d the guys go?”
I turn my gaze reluctantly to Sean, standing a few feet away from me in the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Jesus, Sean. What are you doing here? I told you I could make this hard on you if you didn’t stay away. And I will.” I challenge him with a fearless glare.
“Well, I saw all my family and friends here on the Ring doorbell and figured my invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail.” His voice drips with sarcasm and hatred.
Anger seeps through my veins at the sight of him, and I want to lay him out right there on the tile, but in that moment, I realize the best thing to do is let the guys handle him.
“They’re out back.” I make my voice as uncaring as possible and give a one-shoulder shrug, averting my eyes as I focus on stirring my pasta salad.
“You could’ve just said that,” Sean snaps, walking past me close enough that his shoulder smacks into mine. The back door shuts after him, and then I spot Deacon silently following him.
I stand at the sink, looking out the window that overlooks the patio and the hot tub. It’s wide open to let in the fresh September air, but it also lets in voices. Maybe they don’t know it’s open, because they stand right underneath it.
Deacon tells Sean in hushed tones, “If Beck lets me inside her, I’ll be the one who puts a ring on her finger and comes home to her every night. Only her. She’s all the woman I’ll ever need. And I’ll be the man who gives Beck the children she’s always wanted, then be the one who stays forever. You’re just a piece of shit who dragged her along because you are a giant fucking child who wanted to have your cake and eat it too. I feel sorry for your baby having you as a father, having to be raised by someone who can never love them, because the only person that you’ve everloved is you. Get the fuck out of here man, and don’t come back. Consider thisdibson the rest of her life, motherfucker.”
Sean gets in Deacon’s face as my heart thumps in the confines of my ribs. I can’t believe the words Deacon just uttered—the confession he’d made to Sean about his love for me. I do the only thing I can think of.
I run. I throw the pasta salad in the fridge, dart into the bedroom, and shut the door like an intruder is pursuing me.
“Jesus, girl. Are you okay?” Tara asks, walking over to me and putting her arm around me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Please tell me there are no ghosts in here,” Marissa says as her eyes dart around suspiciously.
“What happened?” Wendy adds.
But I can’t tell them. I can’t open my mouth and explain to anyone that Sean had called “dibs” on me ten years ago, and that I could have shared the last decade with Deacon, who has apparently been in love with me since he first saw me standing at the punch bowl with my pink locks.
My eyes flutter closed. “Can I—can I get a sec?”
“Sure,” Tara tells me, and my girlfriends head single-file out of my bedroom, giving me curious looks. When they’re gone, I shut the door, lean my back against it, and slide down it until my knees pull up underneath me. I rest my chin on my knees as tears stream down my cheeks. Had that been the difference between ten unhappy years and ten that could have been wonderful?Dibs?
The door rattles when someone knocks on it, and then Deacon’s voice loudly calls, “Don’t say a word to her! Walk away, Sean, for good. Like you should have done ten goddamn years ago.”
The next sound I hear is the slam of the front door, and I bury my head in my hands and try to breathe.
Of course, Deacon loves me.
Now that I’ve heard it, I realize it’s the best-kept, most obvious secret I’ve ever heard.
I trace the years back in my mind. Our friendship. The thoughtful gifts he’d always given me. The kind words he always had ready for me if I needed it. Subtle hints he’d dropped over the years, suggesting that I could do better than Sean. My own shattered self-worth, the only thing keeping me from listening.
Glancing down at my rose-gold wristwatch, the tears blur. Deacon has always been the most thoughtful man I had ever encountered. I think of all the restaurants I’ve sat at with Deacon over the years because Sean had been called in to work, or because “something came up.” Anniversaries interrupted, late arrivals at Christmas and weddings. Deacon, my dancing partner when Sean was unavailable or just plain refused when I begged.
Deacon, who fished with me, camped with me, took me hiking, included me in basketball games with the guys, fixed my car when it was broken…
Yes—of course, Deacon had loved me all along. I only feel like a fool for not realizing it sooner.
And now I have a choice. I can pretend I didn’t hear a word Deacon said at the front hall or on the back patio—pretend like the connection between us is normal. That things are as they’ve always been; despite knowing the way Deacon has ached for me for ten years.
Or I can put him out of his misery. I mean, he’s the best man I’ve ever met in my life, and if he adores me the way he says he does, it would make me a very lucky woman. But it’s so soon after the breakup, isn’t it?
It hits me that I’m not as broken-hearted as I should be about Sean, because I’ve been getting over him for years. Even though I had been in a relationship with him, I learned to manage myexpectations. Accepted less than I deserved. Gave a hundred percent and got nothing in return. I had already wrenched my heart away from Sean after having it broken repeatedly, and the proof of him cheating with Nurse Q had been the wake-up call I needed to leave. But I had been leaving him in small ways for years. Nudging out of his arms in bed, turning him down, and shutting myself down emotionally. I’d kept small secrets and internally despised him a bit for the past three years, at least.
