Page 62 of Perfect Pact

“I’m sorry too, Dusty.” I fall into his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you with the truth sooner.”

“Shhh…I’ve got you, babe.” Dusty wraps me in his arms, letting me cry out everything that’s been piling up for the last five years.

“Th-Thanks.” I sniffle as I pull back to see his baby blues look at me with so much adoration. “It’s just a lot.”

“Let’s go.” He holds up his hand in between us. “The sun won’t be setting for a while, but maybe we can still have a glass of tea on the porch and you can get all this off your chest?”

“I’d love that.” I put my hand in his, and we walked toward the house

Dusty comes out carrying a couple glasses of sweet tea, and I smile. This is exactly what Mr. Jacobs and his wife did. It’s what he wanted for me. It’s what he wanted for Dusty. Now, here we sit, together…

I shake off the thought. I can’t get wrapped up in thewhat-ifs.

I set my tart aside, too nervous to eat. I hope what I’m about to tell him doesn’t scare him away. I mean, it can’t possibly get much worse than last night.

“You have the spirit stick, neighbor.” His smile encourages me to open up.

I love how he knows that I need a little humor to break the ice. It’s the little things with him.

Taking a deep breath, I pause, then take a sip of my tea and set it down.

“The short version is my mom was always worried about finding a new boyfriend. If the MC Scoop would have been around back then, she would have been a frequent headline maker. Never really knew my dad. Other than what my mom told me about him. Which was nothing good. I never went looking for him. He never came looking for me.”

“Daddy issues.” Dusty pretends to make a mental note. “Got it.”

I bump his shoulder with mine. “Funny.”

“Anyway, I was like any other hormonal teenager with daddy issues trying to piss off their mom. I did it all the wrong. Especially with boys. I would jump in headfirst, and they would always break my heart. Just like with my mom. Then, one day, a guy came along who lived on the right side of tracks.”

“Bobby?” Dusty tips the glass to his lips and takes a sip, continuing to hang on my every word. When he said he wanted to know the truth, he wasn’t just saying it for the sake of it. He meant it. That’s more than I can say for most people.

“Yeah, Bobby Michaels. I fell hard and fast. I thought because he had two parents who loved him, a nice house, and was loved around the community, they were good people. I was wrong. Just because someone is nice to you doesn’t mean they like you. I didn’t know it at the time, but he later told me I wasn’t really the kind of girl that you bring home to meet your mom.”

“Seriously?” Dusty seems confused. “You’re a catch,” he teases.

“I know, right?” I smile. “But he did say I was the kind of girl you take to bed. Good guy, that Bobby. He took me to bed, all right. And got me pregnant. So, when he told his parents, they insisted we get married. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes as my mom. But she refused to help me. Kicked me out and told me to figure it out.”

I look over to gauge his reaction. His face is blank.

No reaction.

No emotion.

Just him watching me watch him.

I hate this. I hate that this was my life and I have to explain it. It’s painful. It’s the past, and I want to forget. Taking a long pull of my tea, I hurry to get the rest of the story out, as if this is a race and I’m fighting for first place.

“His parents pushed hard for the shotgun wedding. My mom told me I was making a mistake, but she didn’t offer me a way out either. That’s why I don’t speak to her. I wanted her help. I wanted her advice. I just wanted her to be a mom. Instead, I was nineteen, pregnant, scared of everything, and marrying a guy I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even though I had my doubts, things started out okay. We had a really good couple months. And then he started to gamble, spending money we didn’t even have. When I tried to ask him about it, he would leave and stay gone for days at a time. I tried to talk to his parents about it, but they blamed me. Said if I was the wife he needed, he'd stay home. I was left at home with no car, barely any food, and sometimes no phone. It just depended on if he gambled the bill money away that month.” I snort, remembering times I had to rob Peter to pay Paul just to make it through the month.

“Then I started bleeding. I called my mom, and she didn’t answer. So, I called Bobby’s mom. She picked me up and drove me to the hospital where they later told me I lost the baby. When I told her, she blamed it on me and bad genetics then left. I was left alone with the pain of losing a child, no support, and the guilt that comes with it. The next morning, a, off-shift took me home. Bobby never came to the hospital, and when I got home, he was gone and so was all his stuff. He did eventually apologize about not being there and for me losing the baby, but in the same breath, he admitted he never wanted to be a dad and marrying me was an inconvenience. He took off, and that was the last I heard of him outside of collection notices I’d get with his name on them. Well, until he showed up last night.”

God, that felt good.

“So, that’s my life in a nutshell,” I admit, feeling a lighter, the weight of the world no longer sitting on my chest.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Surprising me, he pulls me over onto his lap where I curl up in his arms and nestle my face in his neck, his beard tickling my cheek.

“My bearded charmer.”

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