A Song That Never Ends (Broken Love Duet 3)
“I’m not a dog,” Lennon says, crossing his arms and stomping his foot.
“Lennon!” Katie admonishes—amidst all the laughter. I have to admit Reed seems to be laughing the hardest.
“What? He called me a good boy! That’s what you call Bo-Bo!” Lennon insists stubbornly. “I’m not a doggy!”
“Apologize to Pastor Kurt. He didn’t call you a dog,” Katie tells him, giving Lennon a look that she always gives when she’s about to put him in time out.
“Mom,” he whines as only an indignant child of seven could.
“Do it,” Katie insists.
“Sorry, Pastor,” Lennon says, but you can tell he’d rather be doing anything but apologizing.
Kurt and Katie talk with Lennon a little longer. Reed and Jeff are a few feet away from them, whispering furiously to one another. I frown because it could be my imagination, but they seem tense. As if Reed can feel me staring at him, his gaze cuts to me. Immediately, the tension on his face eases and he smiles at me. I find myself smiling back, feeling goofy and out of my depth. I turn away before he can see the different emotions and thoughts moving around inside my head.
“How about you take a break and help me bring out some of the food for this rehearsal dinner?” Katie’s mom says and I nod.
“That, I can do,” I laugh, feeling grateful that I can do something that will help me feel less out of place.
Besides, I can use a break from thinking about Reed.
CHAPTER 22
Reed
“You’re quiet tonight,” Callie says on the ride home.
“I always get that way after Mama Ryan’s fried chicken.”
“She’s going all out for this wedding.”
“She is. She’s always been that way for her kids. I just hope it doesn’t bite all of us in the ass.”
“You mean with Jake and Lennon?”
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I understand the choices Katie made and a lot of the blame is on Jake’s shoulders. Still, there’s a day of reckoning ahead,” I answer, my hand tightening on the steering wheel.
“You mean for all of us,” she whispers.
“We’ve all known and not a one of us told Jake—each for our own reasons, I suppose.”
“Katie says he already knows and he just refuses to admit it to himself,” Callie laments, as I pull into her driveway.
“Maybe,” I concede. “Or maybe she just prefers to think that, so it lessens the guilt she feels.”
“Lennon doesn’t call Jeff dad. At least, not anymore. Jeff or Katie always encouraged Lennon to call him Jeff. Jake’s had to notice that.”
“I think maybe we only see what we want to see, Bluebird.”
“That’s kind of a pessimistic outlook, isn’t it? That doesn’t sound like the Reed I used to know.”
“Did you resent me, Callie?” I ask as I shut my truck off.
“Huh?” she asks. She unlatches her seatbelt and turns to face me. I have to wonder why I’m even bringing this up, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
“Do you resent the fact that I didn’t stay in Macon, that I let you convince me to leave so easily?”
“I made you leave, Reed. It was good I did, too. Look at all the wonderful things that’s happened in your life. You wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on any of that. More importantly, I wouldn’t have wanted you to. I mean, look at all the success you’ve achieved. You deserve it more than any man I’ve ever known.”
“There are different things in life that make a good life, you know? Jake’s had all kinds of success, and the last few times I’ve seen him he doesn’t look at all happy to me, Callie.”
“Reed, we just do the best we can. Life has a lot of hills and valleys for us all.”
“I have a lot of good in my life. I can admit that.”
“You do,” she insists.
“There’s a chance that if I’d stayed in Macon, I could have had better.”
“What’s that old saying? The grass isn’t always greener?” I ask, ignoring the pain I feel.
“Maybe I could have had you,” I retort, ignoring her silly response.
“I’m too damaged to—”
“Callie, tell me you can’t feel this thing between us. If you can honestly say that, I promise I’ll never bring it up again.”
“Reed—”
“We’re still connected. I don’t see how you can deny that. There’s still this indescribable connection between the two of us. It started in high school, and it has endured a fuck of a lot of shit, Bluebird.”
“We’re friends.”
“I’m friends with Katie.”
“It’s not the same—”
“Friendship is the same. Katie and I have been close friends for just as long as I have with you. If I didn’t talk to her again after today, I wouldn’t feel like a piece of me was missing. Since I left you five years ago, Callie, there has always been this emptiness inside of me that would never go away—at least not until I saw you again.”