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You Were Mine

Page 20

   


Blaire nodded and walked back to the party.
When she was out of sight, Tripp turned around, and our gazes locked. “You OK?” he asked.
I tried to nod, but I only managed a shrug.
“That’s not convincing, Bethy.”
I had been lying to everyone for so long I was out of lies. I was tired of it. No, I wasn’t OK. I was a horrible person. I had to live with that. I had to live with the pain and destruction I had caused. I would never be OK. “Thanks for . . .” I waved my hand toward where Blaire stood. “That,” I finished.
He nodded. Then he turned and walked away. He wasn’t going to stay and make me talk. Another small crack in my wall. This wasn’t good. I needed my wall now more than ever.
Tripp
Bethy came back to the luau fifteen minutes later with a smile that didn’t match her eyes, but no one seemed to notice but me. She danced with Thad and then a bit with Blaire. She held Lila Kate for a while. Seeing her talk to the baby and cuddle her in her arms hurt. I couldn’t look away, even though the pain of what we had lost was breathtaking. I didn’t blame Bethy. She’d been young and scared. Her father was never happy with her and was rarely around. She hadn’t been ready to be a mother then. And I hadn’t been there to stand beside her.
But I did blame me. Forgiving others was easy—it was forgiving myself that was proving impossible.
One of the servers who kept coming back to flirt with me appeared at my arm again. “I get off in five minutes¸” she said close to my ear. The girl was younger than me by a couple of years. Her long blond hair stood out against her island tan. There was no question that she was attractive. Thad had been watching her all night. But she’d kept coming over to me.
“I’m sure you’re tired,” I replied evenly, not taking my eyes off Bethy. She was handing Lila Kate back to her daddy. Grant didn’t let that kid out of his arms often.
“I’m actually ready for some fun. A late-night swim, maybe, if I had some company,” she said as she ran her hand up my arm. She was tracing one of my tattoos. It was the first ink I got, and women seemed to love it best. What they didn’t realize was that inside the tribal print that covered most of my left arm were roman numerals marking the date most important to me.
“Do you see the date hidden in the print?” I asked the girl, not looking at her. I wanted to see if Bethy was leaving.
“Hmmm . . . here?” she asked, tracing the numerals.
“Yeah,” I said as Bethy laughed at something Thad was saying to her. It was forced. She didn’t feel it. I knew the sound of her real laugh.
“Six, twenty-eight, two thousand and eight,” she said as her finger traced the last number. “What does it represent? Can’t be your birthday,” she said teasingly.
“It was the night I gave my heart to that woman over there,” I said simply.
The night Bethy had become mine.
The girl’s finger stopped tracing the ink and fell away. She didn’t speak at first. I thought she’d walk away now. I expected her to.
“She hasn’t spoken to you all night. I thought you were single,” the server finally said.
“She has hated me for eight years. Doesn’t change anything,” I replied.
As if she could hear me from across the fire, Bethy’s gaze lifted and met mine. I watched as her chest rose and fell quickly. She shifted her eyes to the girl beside me before turning away. Her suddenly stiff posture didn’t worry me. In fact, I wanted to shout and pound my chest. Bethy was jealous. Or at least, she was affected by seeing me with someone else.
It was a start.
“She doesn’t look interested,” the girl said.
“Doesn’t change anything,” I repeated. Because it didn’t. I was done with shallow and meaningless.
The girl sighed and finally stepped away from me. “That’s a shame. We could have had fun.”
No. We could have had empty.
I let her walk away without acknowledging her last attempt to get my attention. Bethy didn’t look back at me. When she started to move, I took a step in that direction, too.
Before I could take another one, though, a hand landed on my shoulder. Turning back, I saw Rush standing there, and I wondered if he was here to try to kick my ass for talking to his wife the way I had earlier.
“Bethy,” he said, and I didn’t reply, because I wasn’t sure what he meant. “I heard what you told the server. The date on your arm. That was the summer before you left. You were talking about Bethy.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, but I didn’t stick around to answer any more questions. Bethy was headed for her hut out on the water.
“Well, now it all makes fucking sense,” Rush muttered as I walked away.
Bethy didn’t seem to notice she was being followed. She kept her head down as she walked out over the water and passed my hut. I watched her glance at it, and I wondered if it had even occurred to her to see who was staying next door.
I walked up to my hut and stopped as she stood outside hers. She crossed her arms over her stomach as she looked out over the water. I moved behind the shade of the palm tree outside my door and watched as she let her head fall back and closed her eyes. I wished I could get her to talk to me. I wanted to tell her so much. I wanted to hold her and mourn what we had lost together. But more than anything, I wanted her in my life. Any way she’d allow.
“I know you’re there. You’re always there. I don’t know what to do with that, Tripp. I don’t know what to do about anything anymore.” Bethy’s words snapped me out of my inner thoughts, and I stepped out of what I thought was my hiding place.