Again, she's pressing, but I have no desire to share. What I'm feeling isn't all about seeing Chase again. In my time alone waiting up at night for Myles to call when he gets home, I've thought a lot about the reasons I'm marrying him.
With Myles, I know I'll be taken care of. He's determined to succeed in whatever he does, and this will include two kids, a house in the suburbs, and even as ridiculous as it sounds, a white picket fence to frame them in.
But what about passion? Excitement? Partnership?
We don't have this. We never did. Myles doesn't look at me with adoration. He doesn't gaze at me as if I hung the moon and stars, and he certainly doesn't look at me with hunger or desire. He doesn't push me to make myself better. To be fair, Myles isn't only indifferent to me—he's just… there.
"I want to go home," I tell her. "My mom's making a big dinner to take to Mrs. Jensen's family."
"I heard she passed away. Sad."
Turning to her as we stand beside our cars, I give her a pleading yet hopeful look. "We're okay?"
"We are, but you're not." Grabbing a piece of my long blonde hair, she sighs, twirling it between her fingers, and says, "You'll talk to me when you're ready and I'll be there to listen."
Reaching out to hug her, I hold her for a moment too long and immediately feel less alone. "Thank you, Kate. I'll call you later."
Chapter Four
CHASE
"Get up, God damn it. You've got shit to do." I nudge Myles as he lies sprawled out facedown on my living room floor. He's passed out from drinking with his friends until all hours of the night.
When he turns over, he grunts then rubs his left eye and looks up at me with clear irritation. "Jesus Christ, bro. You sound just like Mom."
No. Not Mom.
I'm acting like a grown man. I don't bother explaining this, though. It'd be a complete waste of energy.
Instead I remind him, "Ry's gonna be here in fifteen minutes. It'd be good for her if you got your ass up, showered, and acted like a fiancé instead of a teenage frat boy who just slunk in from a night of partying with his fraternity brothers."
"Good for her," he mumbles, ignoring my insult. "Always about Ryleigh, isn't it?"
"Hell yes it is. It's supposed to be all about her. Who taught you to act this way? Don't say Dad, either. That'll piss me off."
Sitting up, still ignoring my anger, Myles looks around the room. "Did you clean up in here?"
Christ, but he's an idiot.
"Yeah, I did. Now get up."
I hear him grunt as I walk away and into my small kitchen. I'm holding on to my patience, if only by a thread.
"She's not as fun as she used to be," he tries to explain as he comes stumbling in to stand beside me.
The coffee brewing on the counter in front of us cannot finish fast enough.
"She's bitchy," he tells me. Hearing him insult Ryleigh, my hands turn to fists on the counter. "Do weddings make all women as pissy as she is?"
"No idea," I reply with disinterest. I imagine she's moody because since being back, everyone in this town hasn't missed the obvious change in her disposition.
I've heard people talk, and what they say is that she looks sad, lost, and alone. I saw it for myself, but it seems it's gotten worse with each day that passes.
"She doesn't put out worth shit anymore, either. Nothing like she used to, I'll tell you that."
Jesus Christ, don't share this shit.
Deciding my hands clenching into fists in front of me isn't enough, I turn to face him. "Would you shut up and go get ready."
"You're really not right this morning, bro. Cam not putting out either?"
Feeling the scales of my anger tip, I grab his dirty smelling-like-the-woman-he-was-probably-with-last-night shirt and bunch it tightly in my hands. Then I push until he hits the refrigerator with brutal force.
"What the hell?" he snaps, finally coming out of his drunken stupor.
Pushing harder, then letting go before losing control, I answer, "You're an idiot, Myles. You're pissing away the best thing you ever had."
"How's that?" he returns, his question ridiculous, but clearly he has no idea.
"Don't bullshit me. You're screwing around all over town. Word spreads and eventually it'll get to Ryleigh. You're screwing all this up."
"Right," he placates, seemingly not hearing a word I've said.
"Right," I return.
After a few seconds of silence pass between us, Myles straightens his shirt and huffs like the spoiled brat he is, "You know what I think?"
"Can't wait."
"You're jealous."
"Yeah, I probably am." Hearing me admit it aloud shocks not only him but me.
"You still have feelings for her," he accuses. "Don't you?"
Looking out my kitchen window and leaning my hands against the sink, I don't deny it, but respond calmly with, "It's not about me having any feelings or wanting her for myself, Myles. It's about watching you treat the only woman to ever love you, other than Mom, like she doesn't exist. She's a good girl and you're going to lose her if you don't pull your head out."
"She is a good girl," he replies, looking out my window as I do. "I guess I'm just restless. Being back here, and now just three weeks until I give up my bachelorhood forever."