“What?” he asks, more out of shock than seeking an actual answer. “It’s been eight months. I haven’t heard from you.”
“I know and I’m sorry.” She continues, only I’m too busy calculating the math to hear her. Roughly eight months have passed since Wyatt proposed to me with a ring two sizes too large. I bet it fits her perfectly.
How had I been such a fool? My skin burns with anger, but my heart sinks.
“You bastard,” I yell, marching toward him. “You proposed to me eight months ago with a ring that was meant for her.” Madeline stays quiet when I shoot her a look. I step up close to Wyatt. “Tell me I’m wrong, Wyatt??
? He looks away, and the truth is out. “I hate you!” I scream and run to my car.
“Faye, wait, please,” he yells, but I jump in my car and slam the door. I watch him in my rearview mirror as I drive away, before I round the corner and he disappears.
My phone rings. It’s Wyatt. I don’t answer. There’s nothing he can say to make what he did okay. I can’t go home and be alone with my thoughts. I can’t go to Marty or Ginger’s because they’re in Nebraska this weekend with the tour. I turn down a familiar street and park in front of the house I grew up in.
I need my parents, the two people I’m certain actually care about me.
My mother answers the door in her bathrobe.
“Oh, Faye, honey.” She takes me in her arms and guides me to the couch.
I sit and try to calm my tears. My father has gone to bed, and my mother makes tea. She lets me talk for over an hour before she says, “I know you’re upset, but what Wyatt did is in the past. I think if you’re forgivin’ him for the past, this instance should be included. He’s changed, and I’m sure he regrets it.”
“Don’t,” I shout. “Please don’t defend him.”
“Let me, finish,” she says sternly, using a tone I haven’t heard since I was a teenager. “Just because he’s changed, doesn’t mean he fits into your future, especially when your heart clearly belongs to another man.”
“A man who doesn’t love me back. Who will never love me back.”
She brings my hand to her lap. “If you think Battle doesn’t love you, then you’re as blind, as he is dumb.”
“Mom.”
Her cheeks color as she laughs. “Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Then you go and fight for him.” She pats my hand before returning it to my lap.
“I’ve been fighting for months.” I hang my head.
“No, baby girl. You’ve been trying to forget for months.”
“He won’t answer my calls.”
“You remember when I once told you your father had cold feet?” I lift my head and nod. “You know how he got over it?” My brow knits, and I shake my head. “I didn’t give him any other choice.”
I make the drive to Nebraska in under four hours. I park in front of the arena, and walk to the back parking lot, navigating the sites, and the crowds, until I spot Cooper’s motorhome. I glance around, finding most of my friends, but I don’t see Battle. It’s three in the morning, and I assume he’s inside.
Austin shoots up from his chair and stands in my way as I stride to the door. “Now ain’t a good time, Faye.”
My gut twists, knowing he means Battle’s in bed with a girl. “I don’t care if it’s a good time. I came here to talk, and I’m not leavin’ until he hears me out.”
Marty tries to pull me away. I yank my arm from her grip and open the motorhome door. In the recliner to the right, I see a blonde woman’s naked back. I feel sick. Bile burns in the back of my throat. I want to collapse into tears, but I keep walking toward them.
“What the fuck, Faye,” Scooter yells from behind the woman.
With my hand over the side of my face, I cover my eyes, apologizing as I pass them to the bedroom. I knock, but Battle doesn’t answer.
“You might not want to go in there,” Scooter says.