Page 25 of A Vintage of Regret
“It has been a long time.” He took her hand and pressed it against his chest. “But, history doesn’t simply disappear.”
She shifted her gaze between their hands and his eyes, before dropping her arm to her side and letting out a long, slow breath. “You’re right. It doesn’t. But I don’t want to make things harder with my family. And making that call to the ME won’t help. It’ll bring up every wrong, every mistake, I’ve ever made and slap it right across my family’s face.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but Grant isn’t the worst person in the world. He’s gotten… softer. His wife is an amazing woman. Talk to him. What’s the worst that can happen?”
She snorted. “Maybe things are that way for you, but our conversations derail pretty quickly and can get ugly.”
“Your brother might surprise you.”
She glanced toward the sky. “Oftentimes, conversations with Grant start out fine and end in a brawl. Same with Erin. It’s like we don’t know how to let go of the hurt. All the horrible things we’ve said and done. It’s all right there like bubbles at the surface of boiling water.”
“We had some issues, and look at us?”
“We’re not family, and give it time, I’ll find a reason to be mad at you.” She gave him a weak smile. Her attempt at humor had fallen flat. He didn’t even crack a grin.
“Do you want me to come with you today?”
“God, no. That would just add fuel to a fire I don’t need burning wildly out of control. I’m not that same eighteen-year-old kid who tended to shoot off her mouth on a whim. I’ve got this.”
“I’m sure you do.” Bryson pulled open the driver’s side door. “Promise me something?”
“What’s that?”
“Call me after you meet with your family.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I just need to know you’re okay.”
“I can do that.” She climbed behind the steering wheel and burst out laughing.
“What?”
“I can’t reach the pedals.” She adjusted the seat. “I remember running with you in the mornings and yelling, ‘Wait for me, I’ve got little legs.’”
“Only during sprints. You always beat me to the top of a mountain, or anything over three miles.” He smiled, then looked away for a moment, before meeting her gaze again. “Listen. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but I was there through all the bullshit with Grant and Erin. The jealousy. The fights. How they treated you when you chose to live with your dad.”
He stepped closer, his voice becoming more earnest. “And I know how they are now. They still aren’t making things easy for you, while you’re bending over backward to please them.” He let out a long breath. “Just protect yourself… emotionally. I know how resilient you are, but it doesn’t change the fact that they know exactly how to hurt you.” He closed the door.
Drawing a shuddering breath, she stuck the key in the ignition and turned it. His words hit deeper than she expected. He’d always been able to see through her defenses. The tough exterior she’d perfected over the years meant nothing when Bryson looked at her like that—like he could see every vulnerable spot she thought she’d armored over.
She caught Bryson’s eye in the rearview as he waved. The space between them crowded with everything that hadn’t been said. But this morning—this moment—wasn’t about the past.
It was about the questions beginning to root inside her… that had nothing to do with her family.
All the what-ifs regarding her life choices. The ones she’d never allowed herself to ponder because they hurt too damn much. It meant admitting she’d been wrong.
Five
About five miles out of town, a stately two-story home sat nestled among manicured hedges and blooming hydrangeas, the front porch painted a pristine white that made Riley’s skin itch. Everything about it screamed carefully curated perfection—more like fake perfection, just like her mother.
It wasn’t that Riley didn’t love her mom, because she did. When Riley had chosen to live with her dad, she’d been heartbroken over the divorce. Over the harsh words between her and her mother. Over the expectation that Riley should accept her mom’s decision because her mother deserved to be happy.
And over the lie. The one that Riley’s mom so desperately needed her children to keep.
It all seemed so pointless. As if clinging to that part of her past had been for nothing.
Riley stood on the brick walkway, staring at the glossy black front door with its polished brass knocker, and reminded herself to breathe.
Slowly, she made her way up the steps. She’d never lived in this house. She’d spent a few weekends and holidays here, but it had never been home. Not like it had been to Grant and Erin.Not like the old ranch where she and her father had lived after the divorce—after the family home had been sold.
Deep down, she knew she had to take her share of the blame for broken relationships with her family. Grant was right. She’d been the one to take off for parts unknown. Initially, she’d been the one to sever ties. They’d had no idea what had happened. The loss. The heartbreak. That was on her.
