Every Little Thing
Page 49
“I . . . uh . . .” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching over as if he were uncomfortable. “I guess I came here to talk.”
“Is it about what I did? Calling you like that? Because I have been meaning to get in touch to apologize. I wasn’t in my right mind; it had just happened, I had just caught them and they were, you know, and it was bad and I saw her purse and I just grabbed her phone and then I called you and it was bad and I shouldn’t have—”
“Bailey.” He interrupted my ramble. “It’s okay. It may not have been the right way to do it, but it was the right thing to do. Telling me, I mean. So thank you.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“Yeah. I know. That’s kind of why I’m here.”
“Oh?”
He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and glanced around, as though he were checking we were alone. “Do you have some time right now . . . to talk?”
“I can take a walk,” I said.
Rex seemed to deflate with relief. “Great. I just . . . Okay, you can say no, but I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about Erin and . . . I need someone to talk to. You’re the only person I know who gets it.”
The truth was I had moved on from Tom. Yes, I still missed my friend. I missed the familiarity of him, and having this person in my life who knew me so well. But my heart was aching over someone else. Over a different kind of situation.
Yet . . . I could still sympathize with Rex. It might be nice to be distracted from my own hurt by talking about someone else’s pain for a while.
And of course . . . I could never say no to the wounded.
After I let Mona know where I was going, I walked Rex out and onto the boardwalk. In silence, I led him down onto the beach where we both took off our shoes and let our feet sink in the soft sand. The summer season was in full swing now, and even after sunset the beach was busy. Still, we had privacy in our little bubble of two as we began to make our way along the shore.
“So what would you like to talk about?” I started.
“I feel a little weird now that I’m here. I mean, we barely know each other and this shit is kind of personal.”
“I know this may mean nothing to you but believe me when I say you can trust me. I’m a vault.”
“Tom used to say that.” Rex flinched at his name. “He used to wax lyrical about you, about how much he trusted you, how you were so loyal. I think I was more shocked about him screwing you over than I was about Erin.”
Maybe I wasn’t quite over my ex’s betrayal because Rex’s words weren’t exactly easy to hear.
“I guess he forgot all that when Erin’s twenty-three-year-old breasts bounced by.”
I immediately regretted my sardonic tone because Rex paled.
Squeezing his arm, I apologized. “I have no filter.”
He gave me a weak smile. “Tom said that, too.”
“Tom said a lot, huh?”
“Yeah. All of it good. I’m sorry he cheated on you, Bailey.”
“I’m sorry Erin cheated on you.”
When he kicked at the sand, staring despondently at his feet as he did so, he reminded me of a sad, lonely little boy. My heart hurt for him. “Rex?”
“I . . . I feel angry all the time,” he admitted. “Not because . . . I . . .” He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. More composed, he continued, and he spoke so quietly I had to lean in to hear. “I told Erin things about my life, about my family, that I haven’t told anyone. I decided to trust her. She was the first woman I trusted.”
“And she betrayed you.”
Our eyes met. “Yeah,” he whispered.
“I’m so sorry, Rex.”
“Me, too. Because now . . . now I’m scared shitless that all the stuff I thought I got over, all my goddamn trust issues—” He broke off in a hollow laugh. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this shit.”
“You’re telling me because you need someone to tell it to.”
He stopped to stare out at the water. “I don’t want to be that bitter guy who ends up with nothing and no one because he couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone.” I found myself captured in Rex’s soulful gaze. “I’m not that guy, Bailey. I . . . Life has tried to make me that guy but deep down it’s not in my nature. But I can feel it happening . . . and I just want to put a stop to it before it’s too late.”
Moved by his honesty and touched that he’d shared it with me, even if he only came to me through lack of options, I curled my hand around his wrist in comfort. “You’re talking to me. And you might not believe this yet, but you’ll learn that you can trust me. There are people out there worth trusting.”
He covered my hand with his other one and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for a while and I let him, enjoying the calm surroundings with him, even as the sounds of laughter and conversation drifted toward us from the people on the beach.
Eventually Rex opened his eyes and he gave me this small, amazed little smile.
I couldn’t help but smile in return. “What?”
He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s the first time since you called that I’ve felt a modicum of peace.” He nudged me with his shoulder, playful, teasing. “You’ve bookended this chapter in my life. Chaos and peace.”
I gave a huff of laughter. “There are many people who would say that is a very apt description of me: bringer of chaos and peace.”
“Is it about what I did? Calling you like that? Because I have been meaning to get in touch to apologize. I wasn’t in my right mind; it had just happened, I had just caught them and they were, you know, and it was bad and I saw her purse and I just grabbed her phone and then I called you and it was bad and I shouldn’t have—”
“Bailey.” He interrupted my ramble. “It’s okay. It may not have been the right way to do it, but it was the right thing to do. Telling me, I mean. So thank you.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“Yeah. I know. That’s kind of why I’m here.”
“Oh?”
He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and glanced around, as though he were checking we were alone. “Do you have some time right now . . . to talk?”
“I can take a walk,” I said.
Rex seemed to deflate with relief. “Great. I just . . . Okay, you can say no, but I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about Erin and . . . I need someone to talk to. You’re the only person I know who gets it.”
The truth was I had moved on from Tom. Yes, I still missed my friend. I missed the familiarity of him, and having this person in my life who knew me so well. But my heart was aching over someone else. Over a different kind of situation.
Yet . . . I could still sympathize with Rex. It might be nice to be distracted from my own hurt by talking about someone else’s pain for a while.
And of course . . . I could never say no to the wounded.
After I let Mona know where I was going, I walked Rex out and onto the boardwalk. In silence, I led him down onto the beach where we both took off our shoes and let our feet sink in the soft sand. The summer season was in full swing now, and even after sunset the beach was busy. Still, we had privacy in our little bubble of two as we began to make our way along the shore.
“So what would you like to talk about?” I started.
“I feel a little weird now that I’m here. I mean, we barely know each other and this shit is kind of personal.”
“I know this may mean nothing to you but believe me when I say you can trust me. I’m a vault.”
“Tom used to say that.” Rex flinched at his name. “He used to wax lyrical about you, about how much he trusted you, how you were so loyal. I think I was more shocked about him screwing you over than I was about Erin.”
Maybe I wasn’t quite over my ex’s betrayal because Rex’s words weren’t exactly easy to hear.
“I guess he forgot all that when Erin’s twenty-three-year-old breasts bounced by.”
I immediately regretted my sardonic tone because Rex paled.
Squeezing his arm, I apologized. “I have no filter.”
He gave me a weak smile. “Tom said that, too.”
“Tom said a lot, huh?”
“Yeah. All of it good. I’m sorry he cheated on you, Bailey.”
“I’m sorry Erin cheated on you.”
When he kicked at the sand, staring despondently at his feet as he did so, he reminded me of a sad, lonely little boy. My heart hurt for him. “Rex?”
“I . . . I feel angry all the time,” he admitted. “Not because . . . I . . .” He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. More composed, he continued, and he spoke so quietly I had to lean in to hear. “I told Erin things about my life, about my family, that I haven’t told anyone. I decided to trust her. She was the first woman I trusted.”
“And she betrayed you.”
Our eyes met. “Yeah,” he whispered.
“I’m so sorry, Rex.”
“Me, too. Because now . . . now I’m scared shitless that all the stuff I thought I got over, all my goddamn trust issues—” He broke off in a hollow laugh. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this shit.”
“You’re telling me because you need someone to tell it to.”
He stopped to stare out at the water. “I don’t want to be that bitter guy who ends up with nothing and no one because he couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone.” I found myself captured in Rex’s soulful gaze. “I’m not that guy, Bailey. I . . . Life has tried to make me that guy but deep down it’s not in my nature. But I can feel it happening . . . and I just want to put a stop to it before it’s too late.”
Moved by his honesty and touched that he’d shared it with me, even if he only came to me through lack of options, I curled my hand around his wrist in comfort. “You’re talking to me. And you might not believe this yet, but you’ll learn that you can trust me. There are people out there worth trusting.”
He covered my hand with his other one and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for a while and I let him, enjoying the calm surroundings with him, even as the sounds of laughter and conversation drifted toward us from the people on the beach.
Eventually Rex opened his eyes and he gave me this small, amazed little smile.
I couldn’t help but smile in return. “What?”
He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s the first time since you called that I’ve felt a modicum of peace.” He nudged me with his shoulder, playful, teasing. “You’ve bookended this chapter in my life. Chaos and peace.”
I gave a huff of laughter. “There are many people who would say that is a very apt description of me: bringer of chaos and peace.”
