Page 64 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

She rolls her eyes. “No, you deviant. Eli’s comin’ home.”

My heart stammers so violently in my chest my body physically jerks, causing my fingers to fumble my champagne flute. I watch in despair as the alcohol-infused orange juice sloshes over the sides. If I heard her right, I’ll need all the drink I can get.

“What?”

Lee’s lips move, but I can’t hear a thing over the blood whooshing through my ears, or the bang of my heart slamming against the icy cage it’s been frozen in.

“What?” I repeat.

She nods, her nose scrunching while she sips from her glass. “I know. Get this, he’s gettin’ married.”

The knot forming in my chest surges up, lodging itself in my throat, my stomach spiraling against the turbulence of my body.

“What?” I rasp.

Her eyebrows draw in. “Are you broken? Is that all you can say?”

I’m surpr

ised I can even manage that. A knife to the gut would hurt less than her words. Years of shoddy patchwork burst apart at the seams, the wounds I’ve tried to cover bleeding out.

My hands fly to my stomach, and I fold in on myself. The agony so deep, so visceral, I don’t know if I’ll survive the pain.

Married. Eli’s gettin’ married.

He’s moved on.

He’s loved again.

Thick, green jealousy oozes through the cracks of my heart, coating my lungs, and weighing down every breath.

I’m a coward. Too afraid of ending up chained down and miserable. Scared of being the spitting image of my momma. Only... I ended up in that life anyway. Shackled to my old man instead of being with the one who wanted nothing more than to love me. The one who only wanted to give me a piece of his soul.

And now he’s giving that piece away. Letting someone else stake their claim.

I did it to myself. A fact I remind myself of as I lay in my bed that night, speaking to a God I don’t believe in.

For the first time since I was thirteen years old, I pray.

I pray that whoever she is, she’s able to love him the way he deserves. The way he’s supposed to be loved. The way I can’t.

I take solace in those simple truths. But before I fall asleep—my pillow damp from my regrets—the darkness creeps in, and I’ve never felt so alone.

32

Eli

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I ask for the thousandth time.

“Yep.”

I blow out a breath, my hands hanging between my knees as I try to keep from cringing at Sarah’s answer. Not that it would matter anyway, we’re already on the plane to the one place I never wanted to be.

Sugarlake, Tennessee.

It’s been eight years since I’ve been there, and even longer since I’ve spent more than a weekend. Now, I’m headed back for the foreseeable future—courtesy of my fiancée, who just had to have our wedding there. Said it would lend “small-town charm” to the big day.

“Charm” isn’t exactly the word I would use. More like a glimpse into an alternate reality, one I’m not sure I want to see. With every tick on the altitude, my chest squeezes tight, and my hands grow damp at the thought of what’s waiting once we step off the plane.

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