Page 72 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

The next morning, when John and I stop by the coffee shop for breakfast, I’m feeling lighter than I have in days, content in my acceptance of the hand life has dealt me.

I feel him before I see him.

I pretend I don’t, grasping John’s arm, forcing a laugh at whatever he’s saying. But I couldn’t tell you whether it was funny.

There’s a pull, and I know that if I give in, the glued together bits of my soul will shatter into a thousand pieces and blow away with the early morning breeze.

Still, I look. I’ve always been a glutton for punishment.

My heart stammers in my chest.

I knew this moment was coming, I just thought I’d have longer to prepare—build up the bricks to cover my self-inflicted pain, shielding it from his view.

“Eli,” I breathe.

His jaw tightens as he holds me in his gaze, but his steps falter, pausing for the slightest moment. And that’s all it takes, just one moment. One measly second for hope to explode inside every nerve, my heart bursting at the seams.

But my heart’s a fool. Just like the rest of me.

Eli restarts his trek, breaking his gaze and breezing through the door, not giving me a second glance as he walks by.

I guess I can’t blame him. Some days, when I’m weak and pathetic, remembering what I left, I want to walk past myself, too.

This is my purgatory.

And helping him marry another woman will be my penance.

35

Eli

It’s Friday, the day I was supposed to be arriving in this hellhole of a town. Instead, I’m sitting on Pops’s couch, wondering why I let Sarah talk me into coming at all. Because now I’m stuck, pretending like every day isn’t slowly sucking away the tiny bits of life I’ve been able to grasp on to over the years.

Sarah seems to be enjoying her time. She’s fascinated with the southern twangs and the fact everyone knows my name.

All the things I hate.

She’s uncomfortable with Pops, though. He went out with his buddies tonight, so we’re taking advantage, having a date night and finally relaxing. Pops hasn’t been the most welcoming, and after his callous behavior toward Lee, I can’t say I blame Sarah for being on edge when he’s here.

Lee.

The thought of my baby sister makes my stomach fold in on itself. I should call her, but I have no clue what the hell to say.

The front door slams open, and I shoot to my feet when I see Lee storming into the room.

“Sis, what are you doing here?”

Her face is murderous—cheeks ruddy and lips turned down in a scowl. She surges forward, and before I can stop her, she’s in my face and shoving me back. My legs hit the couch, and I reach an arm behind me to keep from toppling over.

I breathe deep, trying to shake off my anger. “What the hell, Lee?”

“When are you gonna get it, huh?” she hisses through clenched teeth. “I thought you bein’ back would make you see. Get you to realize how bad things are, but here you are… sittin’ pretty with your girl while Daddy’s runnin’ around town makin’ a fool of himself.”

I bristle at her tone, pressing back into her space. “I’m not his babysitter. Pops is a grown man.”

“Do you know where we just came from, Eli?” she asks, her nostrils flaring.

Why the hell would I know that?

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