Page 97 of Versions Of Us

He’s definitely talking about Kristen but where he got the idea that she was smitten with me, I have no idea. It was always the other way around in my eyes.

“We broke up.” I realise this is putting it mildly. Went off the rails, collided with a Mack truck and burst into flames is probably a better description. “She’s always been too good for me anyway.”

“Geez, kid. You’re even dumber than I thought you were.”

“Sorry?” I can sympathise with Old Tommy’s story but I’m not about to stand here and take his insults.

“You had a chance to be with a girl like that? And you let her slip through your fingers? You’re crazy.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I want to argue further but instead I clamp my mouth shut.

“Maybe I don’t. But I sure do know a thing or two about feeling sorry for yourself. Stop bitching and whingeing about how you’re not enough for her and get out there and be enough.” His voice is gruff as he slams a hand down on the table. “Do whatever you have to do to deserve her.”

“It sounds good in theory,” I tell him. “But I don’t think anything is really that simple though.”

He shrugs, placing his empty beer glass down. “Being happy is a choice, kid. Don’t be like me.”

He stands from his chair and shuffles back to the bar for round two, leaving me clueless as to what I should make of this conversation. The last thing I expected to be doing today was participating in a deep and meaningful with the town drunk but hearing Old Tommy’s reasoning for the way he chooses to live his life has struck a chord with me.

Because I don’t think that he should be punishing himself for something he did thirty years ago, although I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same in his position. If I can believe that Old Tommy deserves to move on with his life, then I should believe that I deserve to as well.

It’s time to come clean. I know that without question. I need to tell Kristen everything.

But first, I need to talk to Mackenzie. This affects her too.

And as I look up and catch a blur of blonde hair exiting the Haven, I decide now is as good a time as any.

“I’ll be back in five,” I call across the room to Dylan and Corey.

I abandon the dirty stack of plates and burst through the tavern door onto the street, ignoring Dylan’s pleas for me to come back.

“Mackenzie!” I call out as I cross the street.

She hears me and comes to a stop on the corner, juggling a grocery bag hung on each arm and a takeaway coffee cup in her left hand. “Whoa.” She aims a suspicious glance at me when she sees the desperate expression on my face. “What’s up?”

“We need to tell her. It can’t wait any longer,” I say breathlessly. “I have to tell her everything.”

Mackenzie’s shoulders slump in resignation. She knows just as well as I do that we can’t keep going on the way we are.

“We talked about this yesterday, Henley. I said I would tell her what I need to tell her, but does it have to be right now?” she complains.

“Yeah. It does.”

Mackenzie sighs. “Fine. But you need to let me speak to her first.”

“Okay,” I agree.

She sighs again. “You realise she’s going to think I’m completely psychotic, right?”

“She isn’t like that. She’ll understand.”

Mackenzie looks away, a strained look on her face. “She’ll kick me out of her apartment. I’ll have nowhere to go.”

“She won’t. Haven’t you gotten to know her at all? You know that’s not going to happen.”

“And if it does?”

“I’ll fire up the couch in the loft,” I say. “It’s all yours.”

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