Page 72 of Alive and Wells

I hold back a laugh. “Okay, why don’t you lie back and get some sleep.”

“Like… well.” His brain seems to short-circuit for a second. “I guess if she hadn’t left then you wouldn’t be here, right? So I wouldn’t have met you and maybe I would’ve still been with her. But… nah, probably not—everybody keeps telling me she was never going to stay. News fucking flash for me. Should’ve told me before I made a fool of myself. Oh well… maybe I’m happy she fucked me over because Ireallylike that you’re here.”

“I like that I’m here too.” I reach over and squeeze his hand.

“I know you know about her. I can guess who told you…Kate. But, here’s the gossip nobody knows.” His words slur together slightly and he holds up a finger as if he’s about to make an especially important statement. “Well… the day she left, I asked her to marry me. At the stupid fucking waterfall like a stupid fucking chump. Know what she said?”

I don’t. I mean… I can make an educated guess, but I’m definitely interested in hearing about it now.

“She didn’t think we were serious.Excuse me?Two years and living together isn’t serious?” He throws his hands in the air with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know. It was probably my fault. I suck at talking about things so, like, I think I didn’t make it obvious how serious it was for me.”

“Seems pretty serious to me.” My fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel and, for the hundredth time, I flick on the cargo light to make sure all the guys in the back are accounted for. As much as I wanted him to open up, hearing him relive all this pain about a failed proposal makes my stomach churn. It’s not fair, because he’s never made me feel bad about beingmarried, but try telling my heartburn that.

“Fuck it, though. Y’know?” There’s a small hint of hurt in his voice even still.

“Maybe it’s for the best she said no? Instead of staying and not being happy.”

“Oh, yeah, no, for sure. My dad did. He stuck around here for my mom and then when she died, he just saidfuck it.” His hand flicks through the air.

Christ. Okay, we’re getting into everything tonight.

“Austin.” I look at him. Half of me wants to tell him to stop because this doesn’t seem like a good conversation to get into right now. The other half wants to let him finally get this shit off his chest.

He lets out a long exhale. “It’s fine. Everybody leaves and figures it’s cool because I can handle it. Don’t worry, Austin can clean up the mess. Grandpa dies, Mom dies. Not even six months apart, if you can believe it. And then Dad is all, like, ‘poor me, I need to find myself and get outta my hometown’.Fucking eh. Leave the twenty-five-year-old in charge of everything.”

With the exception of his brothers, who were forced into their roles almost as much as he was, everybody he’s loved has left. No wonder he’s insecure about us. And it’s not like I’m helping ease his fear, considering I’m still legally married to somebody else. My nose burns and the corners of my eyes sting when I look at him. If it wouldn’t lead to questioning from the boys in the back, I’d pull this damn truck over right now to hug him. He needs it badly.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair for you to be put in that position. You deserved better from your dad—regardless of how he needed to grieve, he should’ve considered you.”

“It’s… whatever.” He rolls the window down slightly, taking a deep breath of the warm night air. “It was a long time ago and I probably shouldn’t even still give a shit about any of this. Least now I got you.”

“You do.” I give him the best smile I can, to hold him over until I can wrap my arms around him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“By the way, this is serious, right? You and me? I don’t want there to be any confusion this time.”

“It’s serious. And I seriously love you.”

27

Austin

Strippeddowntomyboxers, I flop onto the bed with only a trace of a buzz still lingering. Turns out nothing sobers you up as quickly as thinking about your ex-girlfriend and family trauma. Cecily’s washing her makeup off in the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And that’s a dangerous place to be.

After one of the longer waits of my life, she silently slips into the dark bedroom and pads to her side of the bed—probably assuming I’m asleep. The easy thing would be to go along with it and avoid the nagging feeling that I should clarify the shit I overshared.

The mattress compresses as her warm body slides under the sheets next to me. Her ass backs up and I automatically roll to my side to cuddle her. Pulling her into my chest, I cup her breast in my hand and nestle my cock against her ass with a content grumble.

“You awake?” she whispers.

Shit.I can’t straight up lie to her.

“Mhm.”

“You okay?” She places her hand over mine and rubs her soft palm on my skin.

“Perfect,” I murmur against her wet hair. “You showered without me.”

“I thought you were sleeping.” Her voice is low as if there’s somebody else in the room who we need to worry about waking up. “Or needed some alone time.”

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