I can imagine it hurt him. But I never knew it did this much. I always assumed Cooper was mad about not being able to leave here. “You were welcome at my home any time.”
“I didn’t want to come there. I wanted you to come home. This is your home. This is where you had an entire life you’ve pretended didn’t exist.” As angry as he appears to be, I can hear the underlying sorrow.
Tears pool as his words cut like knives. I never wanted to hurt my brother or my family. I couldn’t come back here. I didn’t want to face the people who said Zach and I were crazy and too young. Seeing the pity and hearing their whispers was something I knew I couldn’t endure.
“It wasn’t like that. I couldn’t come home and deal with the rumors.”
“Who cares what the hell people think? If you would’ve given anyone a chance, you would’ve known everyone was sad for you. But you never gave anyone a damn chance to show you that. You hid away and created a new life where none of us were welcome.”
Cooper’s right. I should’ve come home after the first time I visited. I excluded everyone in this town from my life. My parents, my brother, and anyone who had any connection to Zachary. I didn’t want to think about him. Just hearing his name was like someone ripping my heart from my chest.
I’ve gone from hearing apologies for months to saying them constantly. “I’m sorry, Coop. I really am. I love you.” I step forward and grab his arm. “It was easier to avoid.”
I see the fight go out in Cooper’s eyes. “It might have been for you. But it hurt like hell to lose my sister.”
All I want is to feel normal again. I don’t want tension with Cooper or anyone else. My brother has been there for the boys since we’ve been back. I want us to be back to what we once were. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.” My honesty is in each syllable. “Can we move on? Can we find a way to be close again?”
“Yeah,” he says with a smile. “You can shovel the stables for the next month, and I’ll find a way to love you again.”
“No way!” I laugh.
Cooper tugs me into his embrace. “I would’ve been there for you. I’m always here. Stop being so stubborn and let us help you.”
I sink into my brother’s arms and let go. “I’m so angry. I’m so sad.”
He holds me tight. “I know, Pres. It’s going to be okay.”
I let him console me because I’m too tired to pretend anymore. And with Cooper, I don’t have to.
“Y OU DIDN’T REALLY THINK YOU could hide forever, did you?” Wyatt says, leaning against the post. “That’s the best part about small towns—they’re small.”
I’ve been able to dodge him for the most part. Keeping things really short and business oriented. “I’m not hiding.”
He flashes a quick grin. “You’re hiding a lot more than you’re willing to admit.”
“Well, if I told you then it would defeat the purpose.”
It’s five thirty in the morning, and I thought I’d be safe out here. My dreams have been getting worse and worse since the kiss. Now, Todd comes and accuses me of loving Zach all along. I know it’s all my subconscious playing tricks on me, but I wake in a pool of sweat every morning. Now, I fight even falling asleep. It’s better than the damn nightmares. But when I think about Todd, I grow extremely sad. All of our memories are tainted by the fa?ade he was feeding me. I think about him waking up for work, getting dressed, and kissing me goodbye all the while knowing it was a lie. I wonder how many other lies he told me. Then my sadness shifts back to anger. It’s exhausting.
“We’re all hiding something, aren’t we?”
“And what are you hiding?” I ask as he walks forward.
Wyatt studies me as if he can figure it out. “We’re not talking about me. I know you, Pres. You’ve gotta tell someone, darlin’. It’s eating you up.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
He laughs. “You’re a whole lot of angry. It seeps from you. It’s keeping you from really being here.”
I shake my head in annoyance. Why does he have to push me? Everyone has let me grieve in my own way, but not Wyatt. “You don’t get to dictate how I handle my life. You’re damn right I’m angry. I’d like you to find someone in my situation who wouldn’t be.”
“You’re not the first person to deal with death.” His voice is layered in sympathy even if his words aren’t. “You’re not grieving, Pres. You’re barely living. Those boys,” he points to the window of their bedroom, “they’re living. They’re helping on the farm, laughing, getting to know a family they didn’t know. They’re actually living, but you?” He pauses as my chest aches. Wyatt stands face to face with me. His brown eyes are open and honest. “You’re just going through the motions.”
Wyatt’s hands brush up and down my arms.
“I don’t know how to feel anything but anger.”
He nods. “Anger I understand.”
“I want it to stop.”