You Were Mine (Rosemary Beach 9)

“No. She loved Jace,” I replied, and the relief was obvious as Della let out a breath. I cranked up the bike and nodded a good-bye before following Bethy’s car out of the parking lot.

I stood on my balcony, watching the waves crash against the shore, unable to sleep. It was how I spent most of my evenings. I hadn’t wanted to leave Bethy’s tonight. I’d watched her shadow in the darkness as she watched me from her window. As long as I could see her watching me, I wasn’t leaving her. But once she finally walked away, I knew it was time to leave. She wanted me to leave.

A knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts. I walked back through the balcony’s French doors, wondering who it was. No one came over this late. The hope that it was Bethy was brief and fleeting. When I opened the front door and saw Woods standing there, I knew Della hadn’t been able to keep what I’d said to herself. I knew deep down when I admitted it to her that she’d tell one person. The one person she told everything to. I accepted that. I stepped back and waved him inside.

Woods didn’t speak as he stepped into the condo and walked into the living area.

“She told you what I said.” I decided to get to the point of this visit.

“She’s asleep and has no idea I’m here. But yes, she told me because she’s worried about you. And worried about Bethy. I’m here because I’m confused as hell. I’ve tried every fucking scenario in my head I could think of, and nothing makes sense. Eighteen? You left town when you were eighteen. Bethy would have been, what, sixteen?”

I walked over to the open doors and stared outside, unable to look at him. Admitting this to Della was one thing, but telling Woods, Jace’s best friend, was another. I already had Bethy’s hatred to deal with. I didn’t want Woods’s, too. Even if I deserved it. “The summer before I left,” I reminded him. “You were around. And you know how I was missing a lot. No one knew where and with who.”

Woods blew out a breath and muttered a curse. “That was Bethy?”

He remembered. I’d been so caught up in her, and I’d gotten into the habit of giving excuses whenever they wanted to hang out. “Yeah,” I said simply.

“Holy fuck. I can’t believe that was Bethy.”

“I was coming back for her when I could. But she was too young, and I’d have ended up in jail if we’d been caught. She was my secret. I almost didn’t leave because of her. But then my dad found out and made it very clear that my time in Rosemary Beach was over. I’d spend the school year at Yale and my summers in Manhattan at the firm. If I stayed, I’d lose her. If I ran, then I had a chance of coming back for her.”

Woods didn’t respond at first.

This was a secret I’d carried for a long time. It was one that had changed everything for me. I understood that. I was ready to accept it. If everyone hated me, then I’d deal with that, too. All that mattered now was that I watched over Bethy. She was all I had left.

“Jace was going to ask her to marry him,” Woods said finally.

“I know. He was the better man. He was going to give her the life she deserved, and I wanted that for her. I wanted her happy. I wanted her to have a life she was meant for. She loved him. That’s what mattered. I was her past. A past she hates now.”

Woods walked over to stand beside me. “He never knew?”

I shook my head. “No. There was no reason to tell him. Bethy was his. I’d lost her long ago.”

“But you love her.”

“More than my next breath,” I replied.

“Shit,” Woods muttered.

I wouldn’t tell him any more. Her reasons for hating me were her secrets to share. Not mine.

“She hates you for leaving?” he asked.

She hated me for destroying everything. She hated me for not being there when she needed me. “I remind her of all she lost with Jace. She needs to hate someone, so she hates me. And I’ll accept that. I’ll be whatever she needs me to be.”

Woods stood there beside me and didn’t ask anything else. But he didn’t blame me. He didn’t get angry at me. He just stood there with me.

Bethy

Harlow and Grant’s wedding had been easy to celebrate because of the simple fact that Harlow was alive, standing at the altar with their miracle baby. I had gone to the wedding and cried happy tears because Grant had his wife and child. He hadn’t lost them after all.

Now, three months later, not only did I have to attend another wedding, but I had to be in it. I couldn’t just show up for a couple of hours and pretend to smile. We would be spending four days on a private island that Woods had rented out for the wedding. He had wanted something intimate where he didn’t feel like he had to invite every member of the country club. So he had found this island near the Florida Keys that could be rented for weddings and other special events. Only close family and friends had been invited, all expenses paid.

Then there was the fact that Tripp was also in the wedding party. I had to be around him in a social setting in front of my friends for four long days. Although I was happy for Della and Woods, being around Tripp wasn’t going to be easy.

Della had told me that Thad would be my escort at the wedding. After my drunken fit at the club a while ago, when I’d screamed at Tripp, everyone knew something was wrong between us, but they couldn’t figure out what. They just assumed I was losing my mind. Della wasn’t going to take the chance of assigning Tripp as my escort, even though that would have made the most sense before my meltdown, Tripp being Jace’s cousin and all.

I stood at the private airport outside of Rosemary Beach. Dean Finlay had offered Slacker Demon’s private jet to take the wedding party to the island. Woods and Della had sent plane tickets to the rest of the guests. Except, of course, for the members of Slacker Demon who were also invited. The plane would be taking them to the island later in the week.

Della was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the plane, talking happily to Blaire. These were my friends. I loved them. Being with them should not be hard. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the handle of my rolling suitcase and headed for the plane.

Della’s gaze moved to me, and her smile grew. She was so happy. Della had overcome so much. I remembered the girl who had come to Rosemary Beach—sheltered and haunted by her past. Della didn’t even resemble that girl anymore. She wasn’t a victim. She was a survivor.

“We’re all here now,” Della said, and stepped forward to hug me. “I’m so glad you’re coming. Thank you,” she whispered in my ear as she held me firmly before letting go.