Tangle (Dogwood Lane 2)
“Like what?”
“Like how to get off in the missionary position. How to handle myself when I’m jealous. How to stand up for myself when I want something, and what it feels like to fall in love.” I bring the glass to my lips but don’t drink. The burn of unshed tears fills my throat instead. “What it feels like to be rejected.”
“Fuck him,” Penn says.
“I thought you liked him?” Neely asks.
He rolls his shoulders in a small circle. “I did. Now I don’t.”
“Penn, this is my fault,” I say. “He didn’t lie to me. He didn’t promise me anything he didn’t follow through on. I just went all in like I do, and he didn’t.”
A knock at the front door makes me jump. I hold my breath, hoping, even though I shouldn’t, that it’s Trevor. Penn waves Neely off and marches to the front door. His fist is clenched to his side as he pulls it open.
Claire bursts in. “Where are you? Oh, friend.” She rushes to me, throwing her arms around me. “I’m so sorry.”
“How did you even know?” I ask.
“Penn texted me to get over here. He didn’t say why, but he didn’t have to. Trevor leaving was the only thing I could think would hurt you bad enough for Penn to bother with texting me.” She looks at him over the top of my head. “Thanks, Penn.”
He looks at Claire, Neely, and me one at a time. “I’m losing it. Something is wrong with me, and I don’t know how to fix it. It’s like I’m growing a heart.” He sticks his lip out and wobbles it. “I don’t want it. Take it back.”
We laugh, watching Penn act like he’s in shock.
“Let me say,” Claire says, sitting beside me, “that I hate this. But as I was driving over here, I realized I’m not really worried about you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I’m not. I have been every other time you’ve had a breakup, but not this one. You’ll be fine this time, strangely enough.”
“Yeah, Claire’s right,” Neely chimes in. “I get what she means. You’re taking this super well.”
I don’t know about that.
There’s a black hole in my heart. I can feel the hollowness. It’s deep, gaping, maybe even seeping. It hurts like a bitch, but I’m aware of one thing—nothing is going to fix it. Not now. Not yet. Not until I can at least wrap my head around what’s happened.
“My friend Grace is coming from New York soon,” Neely says. “Maybe we can all go somewhere, not Nashville, and have a girls’ trip.”
“I’d love that,” I say.
“Wait,” Penn says, cutting in. “Grace. Is she the one you were telling me about? Hot little body. Dirty mouth.”
“That’s Grace.”
“When does she come in?” he asks with a grin.
Neely rolls her eyes. “I’m not sure. Soon. But you should probably stay away from her.”
“Why?”
Neely laughs. “I can’t figure out if you’d be oil and water or get along like a house on fire.”
“Neely, pal,” Penn says, heading for the door, “you just guaranteed I’ll be looking her up.”
“Where are you going?” Claire asks.
“I’m going to make sure Dane found the ice cream, because I’m pretty sure Lorene doesn’t sell it at the Dogwood Inn.” He shrugs. “Later, babes.”
Claire sits beside me and swipes my wine. “I want to see your house and be super excited for you, Neely. But I need a drink first.”
The room grows quiet for everyone but me. I hear Trevor’s voice roll through my mind, telling me I’m staring. Calling me a pretty girl. Asking me what I’m thinking.
Liz was wrong. He might’ve looked at me differently, but not like she thought. Or I hoped.
There’ll be no more staring, Thief. Not anymore.
Trevor
“What’s wrong, honey?” Lorene looks up as I walk by.
I sit across from her in one of the oversize chairs by the fireplace. She continues knitting, working the yarn through sticks that remind me of something Godzilla would’ve used to eat Chinese food. They clink together, the sound oddly comforting.
My emotions are spent.
This is why I don’t do this. Exactly fucking why. I can’t win. I never win.
“If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to,” she says, reaching over and patting my hand. “But I’ve lived almost ninety-one years. I know a little something about a lot of things. Unless it’s computers. I don’t know a thing about them.”
I settle in and watch her work for a while. It’s almost hypnotic and I appreciate the distraction. Finally, I face reality. “Were you married?”
“Yes. For fifty years. Geoff was a good man. A very good man. I miss him every day of my life.” She smiles. “He left me twenty-six months before he passed, you know.”
“He left you?”
She nods. “He divorced me. The fool was seventy years old and filed papers to end our marriage.” She chuckles to herself. “I told him if he wanted to leave, he could. Fine by me.”