Page 23 of Chasing Forever
Mom crosses her arms, and her glare matches my dad’s. “She wanted out of this town. She used Holden. She’s using you now.”
My fists clench so hard my knuckles crack. “She didn’t use anyone. Holden left her, remember? At the damn altar. Don’t rewrite history to suit the lies you tell yourself.”
Mom huffs. “She wanted out. She saw your brother’s future and wanted to ride his coattails as far away from here as possible.” Her face twists in distaste. “Thankfully, he came to his senses, otherwise could you imagine having the Owens as in-laws?”
“They are your in-laws now.” I can’t help the smirk that lifts my lips.
“Temporarily.” She waves me off.
“She’s not temporary,” I bite out.
“Are you suggesting you’re in love with the girl?” Dad asks, his lip curling in disgust.
My mom narrows her eyes, as though she already knows the answer and hates it.
“Well?” Dad pushes.
I meet their stares, steady, unflinching. “Do you really wanna know?”
My dad roars like a wounded animal. “She’s your brother’s! She belongs to him, not you!”
“No,” I say, standing to my full height, towering over him now. “He walked away. He left her.”
“If this is about guilt—” Mom starts.
“Listen,” I say, my voice low and even. I’m thankful for my sheriff training so I can be calm when my dad looks as if his head is going to spin around and fly off his body. “Last I checked, I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I’m sorry. No, actually, I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry for any of it. I understand how you would view this as putting you in a bad position, and I wish that picture wasn’t spread around. I don’t regret my decision though. Give it a few days, and if you can talk in a calmer manner about this, call me. But for now, I’m leaving.”
I walk toward the front door.
“We’re not done here!” Dad’s voice roars after me as I slide into my shoes.
Maybe we aren’t.
Maybe we never will be.
But I walk out the door anyway.
Chapter Eleven
Lottie
After my parents’ late-night talk about how I deserve love and need to open myself up to it, maybe not write Brooks off so fast, I didn’t slide into bed until well after midnight. Their words dug deeper than I want to admit.
I’ve been wondering how things went with Brooks’s parents last night. Probably about as well as trying to ride the meanest bull in the rodeo—you’re thrown off, trampled, and left breathless.
I’m walking out of the house I share with Romy and my cousins, Poppy and Scarlett, but when I open the front door, Scarlett is there.
She takes out her earbuds and looks me up and down. “Where are you disappearing to so early this morning?”
“You don’t want to know.” I try to sidestep her, but she matches my move, blocking me.
“Oh, I do.”
She’s sweaty from her early morning run in her matching outfit. Scarlett’s every bit the version of myself I wish I could be—organized, focused, all clean eating and discipline.
“I’m going to talk to Brooks, if you must know. I have to run to the Donut Hut before they run out of Boston creams.”
She smiles and steps aside, letting me pass. I step out onto the front porch.
