Page 6 of Hearts to Mend

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I think you need to talk to him.”

“About what?”

“About why he left. About what happened. You need to hear his side.”

Fuck that noise. I’m not giving Rico one more second of my time, my patience, or my understanding. He broke my heart and started a life with another woman, had a child. He deserves nothing from me.

But I have so many questions. Why did he join the Army when he could have found work here? Why did he write me that break-up letter? Was it because he’d met her, this mysterious mother of Mateo? And where is she? Why didn’t Matty’s mom turn up at the hospital? Not to mention: Why is Rico back in town? Why had he never reached out? And why, after all these years, did seeing him again send my heart into hysterics? Why do I still feel anything for him other than rage? Why can’t I ever stop thinking about him?

“I should go,” I mumble.

“Oh no you don’t, you beautiful dummy. You’re sleeping in the guest room tonight. I’ve already hidden your car keys.”

“What? I’ve only had two beers.”

“And nothing to eat. You’re mad and semi-drunk, and I will not be letting you on the road until morning. No use arguing. The sheets are clean. Go to bed.”

I stare at him a moment, then stick my tongue out.

“I love you too, doll. Now off you go. We have to be presentable for the kiddos tomorrow. No hangovers allowed.”

Grumbling, I drag myself off the couch to stand. Rooster stands, too, so he can wrap his insanely long arms around me in the softest hug. I squeeze my arms around his waist, bury my face in the warmth of his chest, and let myself fall apart, just for a moment.

He strokes my hair as I silently cry, shaking more than sobbing. I was never much of a crier, but when my mood sinks this low, I let it out. Rooster has been my shoulder to cry on more times than I can count. Before Rooster, it was Rico. As far back as I can remember, it was always Rico.

My first best friend. My first love. My only love. Rico was it for me, from the time we were eight years old, riding dirt bikes and catching crawdads in the creek. Rico wasn’t just my best friend, he was my only friend. He was the only person I ever needed. When my parents fought and pills stole my mom while alcohol numbed my dad, I was never alone because I had Rico.

Then he left.

I should have seen it coming. While I was dreaming of a happily-ever-after future with him, he was talking to the Army recruiter. While I saw only him in my future, he saw a big, wide world he wanted to conquer first.

Rico hadn’t been ready to settle down with me, settle for me. So he left, and he broke my heart beyond repair. But now he’s back. And he looks so good. He’s been handsome since the day he was born, but the sight of him in navy slacks and a button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves sent my heart into a fluttery tizzy.

He’s grown into his long, lanky height too. The Army filled him out, made him strong, with broad shoulders and thick forearms laced with veins that bulged when he squeezed his hands at his sides.

At the time, I wondered why he did that. Was it to stop himself from reaching for me? And damn my stupid heart—I’d wanted him to reach for me so badly. Despite everything, despite all the reasonable voices in my head telling me to run far away from that heartbreaker, all I really wanted was to feel his arms around me, breathe his scent into my lungs, and drown in him completely.

Pathetic. I’m a glutton for pain and punishment. Why not let him tie me to a post and flog me? It would probably hurt less than this. And I’d probably whine a lot less about it too.

Deidre Marie Fletcher—I can practically hear my mom’s voice in my head—men aren’t worth all this bellyachin’. You want love and devotion? Get a dog.

Gently pulling away from Rooster, I flash him an anemic smile as I wipe my eyes dry. “Thanks.”

“For what? The beer?”

“For always being there for me.”

Rooster grins from one corner of his mouth and rubs his knuckles over my hair, like a big brother. I love him for it. I don’t feel quite as alone in this world when Rooster treats me like a bratty kid sister.

With a kiss to his cheek, I turn and aim for his guest bedroom, kicking off my boots before collapsing into bed. I’m exhausted, worse than the exhaustion I usually feel after a shift. Thankfully, all I have to do tomorrow is host two dozen six-year-olds as they run roughshod all over the station.

CHAPTER 4

RICO

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