Fuck.
“But you!” The fire reignited inside her, coming out as red-hot anger lacing every word. “You had to be you, didn’t you? Do you have any idea how what you did hurt me? Did you have any clue at all what your stupid fucking ego trip would do to me if I ever heard you? No. You wouldn’t have. You never thought of anybody but yourself!” She closed the distance between us.
I braced myself for whatever else she would throw my way.
“I was in love with you, you complete and utter fucking fuckwit!” She slapped her palms against my chest. “Because I saw you. The person you were rather than the person you portrayed. Then you fucking broke my heart being that person. Broke it!” Her voice was hoarse as she slapped me again.
This time, I stepped back as her hit stung my skin.
“And you didn’t care!” She shoved her finger in my face, her gorgeous eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “You said that and you didn’t care, and that was the moment I realized it didn’t matter if I loved you, because Brett Walker cared about one thing and that was Brett Walker. You didn’t care about me or my feelings. I had no reason to stay here in this dumb little town with nothing for me. My options were become a Walker or work for a Walker.” She moved back with a little laugh and threw her arms out. “How ironic I should come back when I did and look—working for a Walker. I guess Whiskey Key sucks you in and doesn’t even have the decency to spit you back out with honesty. A little like you.”
My heart thumped against my ribs, but I didn’t say a word. These were all the things she’d been dying to say to me since she left. Especially since she came back.
I needed to hear it.
She was my reality check.
My father was right.
Lani Montana made me a better person. I didn’t know how or why, I just knew that she did.
“I hate you so much,” she said after a few seconds of silence. She moved away from me, brushing wayward, dark strands of hair away from her face. “I hate you so fucking much, and you have no idea. I want to let go of it. I want to forgive you, but I can’t. I can’t let go or forgive or forget or any of that other bullshit people say you should do after someone’s hurt you because it ain’t that damn easy. It takes a lot to do that, and I don’t know if I have it inside me. I’m not a fucking superhero. I’m just a woman holding onto a part of her past she should let go, but I can’t. Fuck it, I can’t!”
She was broken.
I broke her.
I wanted to fix her. But what did you do when nothing you could ever do would ever fix it?
You stood. You listened.
You took all her hurt inside you, finally releasing it from her.
And you realized that one day someone would love her harder and treat her better than you ever could.
Even if it fucking broke you right back.
“Then let go,” I said quietly. “Don’t hold on to anything of me, Lani. Quit this. Leave it. I won’t hold it against you.”
“You...” She looked up, her eyelashes brushing against her skin before she dropped her gaze back again. “Just when I think I can. Just when I think I’m ready, you go on and be so very you.” Her voice was thick, her eyes once again shining with tears. “Fucking hell, Brett! The run? The school? The shelter?” She pressed her middle fingers against the corners of her eyes. “Just when I think I have a fucking handle on my emotions, you have to do it. You have to do something so completely you—the real you. And then I feel like I’m on the edge of falling right back in love with you all over again.”
She pressed her fingers so hard into her eyes it had to hurt, but it didn’t keep it inside.
The tears still escaped.
“And it makes me hate you more!” she all but screamed it at me. “Because I want to hate you, you selfish, egotistical, fucking asshole of a kind-hearted, caring, undervalued guy!”
An opinion of me had never been so adequately expressed in such accurate words.
But I was stuck. Stuck on the tears. On her truth.
“You know why it changed when you left?” I asked her, my throat dry. “Why I changed after you went?”
She dropped her hands and looked at me, but she didn’t say a word.
“Because you broke my heart too.” I clenched my fists in my pockets. “You disappeared without a word to anyone, and the people who did know wouldn’t tell me anything. I was too dumb to apparently put two and two together and come up with four.”
“You could have found me if you really wanted,” she whispered through her silent tears.
“I could have. I was so mad that I didn’t want to. For a while, I hated you. I didn’t know how you could leave me without telling me. I fucking needed you more than you knew. You were the one damn thing in my life that made sense to me, Lani. I had you. Always. Until the day I woke up and I didn’t have you anymore.”
“That’s because I deserved more than you.”
“I know that. Now. I know it now. And I hate myself. Believe me, I fucking hate myself so much, but there’s one thing you don’t understand.”
“Then tell me.”
I looked her dead in the eye and said, “You were my best friend and I loved you.”
She swallowed.
“I loved you.” I walked toward her, fully ready for her to push me away, but she didn’t. She stood, unnaturally still, until I was right in front of her. “When you left, I told myself I didn’t love you. But now? Now I look back and I know I did. Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t feel the way I do every single fucking time I look at you. You can stand in front of me and tell me you’re on the edge, but, Lani? I’m over the edge. I don’t think I ever didn’t love you.”
She took a deep breath and dropped her chin to her chest. Her shoulders heaved and she covered her face with her hands. “It doesn’t matter!” she yelled, exploding away from me. “I left because of you. Because of your words. Because your ego was bigger than your heart. So don’t you dare stand in front of me and tell me you’ve always loved me, because you’ve already shown me once that your love is worth jack shit.”
I deserved it, but fuck if it didn’t cut through me like a blunt knife. It stung like hell. Like vinegar on an open wound.
“If that’s how you love people, I don’t want it,” she said quietly, swiping at her cheeks. “I don’t even want your friendship.”
“Maybe it was.” I put my hands back in my pockets. “But it’s not now. If I could go back and change it, I would. I’d never say it and instead I would tell you how I feel.”
“You can’t change it. You can’t take away how much you hurt me. It wasn’t something that could be brushed off as a joke. It was cruel—just cruel. It doesn’t matter how much you want to change it.” She sniffed. “Tell me something—if you knew I’d heard, would you have followed me?”
I beat down the pain that was slowly making its way through my veins courtesy of my aching heart. “I don’t know.” Honesty sucked, but it was all I had left.
“What about now? What if I packed up my car and left, would you follow me now?”