Pieces of Summer

“Once upon a time, I married a woman who gave up her dream of being an actress because I was building a ranch in a town where my dead grandfather left me a lot of land. It gave me the chance to change my life, but my dreams eclipsed hers and she never really forgave me for it.”

He blows out another long breath as he puts his elbows on his knees. “Jessica loved me at one time. I thought a love like that could never possibly go cold. I loved her too. Still do. Probably always will. But she started hating me long before I found someone else.”

I swallow against the knot in my throat, trying and failing not to let his words fully resonate.

“Jessica resented me, and that resentment only grew over time. When she got left at home with the twins while I went out of town on business, that resentment festered. When she watched a TV show with a role that would have been perfect for her, she resented me a little more. When she got her first wrinkle before I did, she fucking hated me.” He laughs humorlessly, and it’s almost a sad, resigned sound.

“Then she finally stopped speaking to me unless it was to criticize me, or argue, or just say something hateful in general. All the good things faded over time until we were left with nothing but the shit we’d avoided over the years. That’s what resentment does, son. It festers, it builds, it pollutes, and it consumes. Tell me if you want to go through the hell I did, and I’ll find a way to get my daughter down here this summer. It won’t be easy, but I’ll make it happen if you promise me you’ll be able to live with this choice. Because I know how stubborn Mika is. She loves you. No doubt in my mind you love her too. Just curious if you love her enough to let her go, because this town will destroy her just like my ranch destroyed her mother.”

He stands up abruptly and starts to walk in, but he pauses by the door.

“Let me know what you decide,” he says after a few minutes of silence.

There’s not much of a decision. Deep down, I’ve always known Mika was too damn good for me and for Hayden. No one’s ever said it aloud until now. It was fucking stupid to ever think she’d be satisfied living the poor life while we struggle to clean up an old bowling alley.

The entire thing seems ridiculous and stupid now… childish and insane.

Wordlessly, I step off the porch, picking up my skateboard and tucking it under my arm. I don’t ride it, because I take the slow walk home, barely even remembering the trip when my door is suddenly in front of me.

As soon as I walk inside, I spot my mother on the couch with vomit oozing from her lips as she snores. Moving closer, I push her onto her stomach so she doesn’t choke on her puke and die, and I move into my bedroom, stepping over the dirt where the floor is missing, and sitting down on my dirty mattress.

Every reason I had for looking forward to the future is gone. I was stupid to think I ever deserved any of it. I’m a James. People don’t love us. They just fuck us. People don’t care about us. We just exist.

Life doesn’t open up and accept everyone. Some people get swallowed into the darkness or left out in the cold. I just wanted to stay in the warmth a little while longer.

When the first hot tear hits my cheek, I turn over on my side and stare through my broken window as the suffocating room gets hotter with the daylight. At least Mika will be happy, even if I continue to suffer through hell.

At least I can’t ruin her life if I’m not in it.

Chapter 8

CHASE

“You haven’t touched me all week,” Whit says against my ear, running her hand down my chest to my stomach, slipping it inside my boxers and latching on to my flaccid cock while I finish brushing my teeth.

I can’t even get morning wood right now. Fucking Mika. Fucking summer. Fucking life.

“I need to go,” I tell Whit, withdrawing her hand from my boxers and grabbing my jeans from the counter to put on.

“She was obviously more than someone you met one summer, so freaking tell me. This is getting old, Chase, and Mika still hasn’t been back to work. How stupid do you think I am? Maybe if you talk about it, you can stop being pissed off about whatever she did to you. It’s starting to make me hate her, and I don’t even know why I need to hate her. Obviously it was really bad.”

Shit. This is not a morning conversation. Hell, this isn’t an any-time-of-day conversation. But it’s not going away, because Mika is apparently not going away, and Whit has to work with her.

How the hell did this happen?

Blowing out a breath, I turn to face Whit. She really does look pissed.

“Mika was my first,” I say abruptly, watching as her eyes almost bug out of her head. Probably should have worded it differently.

“Holy shit. This can’t be real. Is that why she’s here?” she squeaks. “Because of you? Is that why she hired me?”

I grab her arms to keep her from flailing them into something, and hold her still.

“Trust me, she had no fucking clue you and I were together, because she sure as hell didn’t act like she expected to see me. And now she’s hiding because she’s avoiding me, just like I’m avoiding her.”

The confusion in Whit’s eyes is frustrating. I really don’t ever tell this shit to anyone. Not even my friends—the ones I kept. Blake and I bought the property with my shop and his garage together, then set up our own places. He came around that summer Mika disappeared, and he kept me from turning out just like my parents.

Not even he knows about her or how much she fucking destroyed me without even trying. He only knows there was a girl that I can’t talk about.