Page 88 of The Problem with Perfect

“And you’re wrong,” I say, patting him on the back. “I’m not the most important man in Abby’s life. You are.”

We hug for a moment longer before we pull back, Jackson turning to attend to the grill and me heading inside to grab us something a little more celebratory than beer. I think we each need a moment to ourselves.

Eventually, the burgers are done, and we settle in front of the TV, just shooting the shit and watching baseball. My mind struggles to focus on anything other than what Jackson and I just discussed, and I think we’re both a bit distracted for the rest of the evening.

Later, as I lie in bed, staring at the fan oscillating above me, the full weight of our conversation hits me. My little sister is going to be getting engaged, and then married. She’s found the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with, her forever kind of love.

It’s one of those major moments parents always want for their children, and I know mom and dad would love Jackson and be so happy for the two of them. As the person who has helped to raise her and guide her ever since their passing, I can’t help but feel something a bit like fatherly pride and satisfaction knowing she’s made it to this big milestone in life. It almost feels like…a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.

It’s not that I consider my sister a burden in any way, but for the first time, I no longer feel the responsibility of being the only person she turns to for support. Sure, I’ve always known she had many others loving her and caring about her. Briar, for sure, and the entire Mitchell family. Definitely Jackson ever since they started dating, and plenty of people in this town have rallied around her—around both of us—since our parents passed.

But now, she’s on a path to creating a new family, one that is uniquely her own. Somehow, knowing she’ll have that highlights to me just how much I want it too, how much I’vebeenwanting it but haven’t allowed myself the chance to even consider it a possibility.

Bellamy was right when she said I need to take something for myself, need to fight for myself. For far too long I’ve been committed to sacrificing everything for the sake of the people I love. I can still do that, can still be someone who is willing to bend over backward to love and support the people in my life, but I don’t have to do it at the expense of my own happiness.

In truth, giving myself permission to seek out the things that bring me joy, to find that happily ever after, will help restore me in a way I desperately need. In doing that—in giving myself permission to mend the fractured parts of my soul that have never truly healed—I’ll probably be capable of being an even better friend, a better brother, a better lover.

My chest feels tight again as I lie in bed, thinking over all the things I want to do, all the ways I want to be different, all the love I want to give. It’s like taking this weight off my shoulders didn’t just make me feel lighter; it makes me feel like I can fly.

* * *

The following morning, I’m staring at the electrical panel with Nick and Jackson, discussing an issue we’re having with the main circuit breaker, when I see an unfamiliar black Lexus pull up and park dead in the center of the gravel lot. To my surprise, Connor Pruitt emerges from the driver’s side looking like he wants to strangle someone, and when he slams his door angrily and begins walking my way, I can only assume I’m the one he’s looking for.

What I’mnotexpecting is for him to sucker-punch me as soon as he’s close enough.

A chorus of shouts rise up around me, and Jackson presses a hand to my chest, holding me back while Nick and one of his guys grab Connor’s arms, restraining him as he tries to shake them off.

“Fuck you, asshole,” he shouts at me, his voice loud and furious. “Stace broke up with me and it’s all your fucking fault.”

I’m rubbing at the spot on my jaw that he hit—I don’t care how big you are, getting punched smarts—feeling completely confused.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“She fucking broke up with me,” he repeats, finally shaking Nick and Jon free.

“And what the hell does that have to do with me?” I bark, pressing up against Jackson’s hand, which is doing little to stop me.

“You’re the one who told her to do it.”

My head jerks back. “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not. She said she talked with you, and you made her see I’m not what she wants.”

“Look, you little shit,” I say, glad to finally tell him exactly how I see him, “as much as I’d like to claim credit, if Stace ended things, that was a choice she made entirely on her own.” I lean in close, pointing a finger at the center of his chest. “And we both know she deserves far better than you.”

He tries to come at me again, but Nick and Jon are right there, holding him back until he finally stops fighting them.

Then he laughs, the sound filled with something nasty and bitter. “You wanna talk about someone who deserves better? How about Bellamy? Huh? Because I can guaran-fucking-tee if anyone deserves better, it’s her.”

I clench my fists.

“You think there’s any kind of world where someone likeyoucould ever be enough for her? What do you have to offer, huh? Besides proof of an STD panel and a bottle of your shitty-ass beer.”

My jaw feels like it’s going to crack in half with how much I hate this guy, but I roll my shoulders, trying to let go of the rage. Even though he might be right, he’s also very, very wrong.

“And that’s where people like me and people like you differ,” I toss back, smirking. “You had a good thing with Stace and you didn’t deserve her, but you weren’t willing to give her everything you have to prove to her she made the right choice.” I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans, the truth in my words settling me even further. “I, on the other hand, know exactly how far out of my league Bellamy is, and I’m going to do every-fucking-thing I can to make that woman so happy she doesn’t doubt me for a single second.”

Connor stands before me, his entire body vibrating, absolutely seething. I don’t doubt at all that the way we feel about each other is mutual.

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