I kiss my dad on his forehead and move off the narrow bed, limbs heavy like lead and eyes scratchy like there’s sand in them. Most likely mascara crumbs from crying.
“I feel bad for you, Marina,” I say evenly, brushing my clothes flat.
“I don’t need your pity,” she spits quietly, picking up my dad’s chart and fixing her gaze on the papers before her.
“But you have it. And you have my forgiveness for how utterly awful you’ve been to me for my entire life.”
She scoffs, and I pull myself up as tall as I can get as I aim for the door to leave. Battling with Marina isn’t worth the effort. However, that doesn’t stop me from sharing some parting words, even though my voice shakes as I do it.
“You’ve spent a lifetime hurting my dad, and I hate that. But whatever goes on between you and Kip is none of my business. You’re both adults. But I will never forgive you for making it impossible for me to have a relationship with Winter. You think all your maneuvering throughout my life only hurt me, but it hurt Winter, too. It made it so that I felt like I couldn’t tell her things that she deserved to know. It made it so that we were both isolated when we could have had each other. And that’s”—I point at her, right in her face—“on you and your fucked up vendetta.”
And then I spin on a heel and leave. Too angry to look at her for even another moment.
I stumble out of the room in search of a washroom to fix my face and relieve my bladder. And maybe to cry a little more by myself. I need to find Winter. Call Winter. Explain myself to my sister.
But when I wander around the corner and hit the waiting space, what I find is Rhett Eaton, corded arms crossed over his chest, hair loose around his shoulders, bearded chin tipped up, staring at the ceiling. His golden irises dance back and forth as though he’s watching something.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He sits up straight, instantly looking at me as he clears his throat and grips at the armrests. “Waiting. I guess. Yeah, waiting. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“What time is it?”
He nods at the wall behind me. “Almost two.”
“Two a.m.?”
“Yeah.”
I sigh and scrub at my face. “I asked you to leave.”
The quiet hum of the hospital behind me is peaceful in its familiarity.
“Well, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to sit here and wait to make things right with you. I’ll sit here all weekend if I have to.”
“No, you won’t. You ride tomorrow. You should be resting.”
“Summer. Don’t you get it?” He stands, holding out his hands in frustration. “I care about you.”
I suck in a loud breath and nod as I drop my gaze to his worn boots. “Right. But not enough to stop talking when I begged you to. Not enough to think about the repercussions of you going off. The repercussions that land on me.”
“He deserved it, Summer,” Rhett growls.
“And what about me, Rhett?” My voice is borderline shrill. “What do I deserve? Do I not deserve the opportunity to tell my own story? Don’t you get it? That was my secret to tell.” My thumbs jab at my chest almost painfully before I point at him. “You promised to keep that secret. And you broke that promise. I trusted you.”
He blinks, eyes softening as his shoulders sag. “Secrets like that will weigh you down, Princess. You never told me he was part of your family. I mean, fuck. How disgusting can one person be?”
“Don’t princess me! We haven’t known each other for that long! I’m so sorry I didn’t spill all my dirtiest secrets to you right off the hop. How selfish of me.” My voice goes up to another level, and I feel the sleepiness of earlier falling away, being replaced by panic. By heartache.
“You shouldn’t keep secrets that eat you alive because you’re worried about what people will think. And definitely not because someone is manipulating you into it.”
“I know that! Don’t you think I know that? But it was my story to tell, and you took that from me. In the most public, humiliating way possible. And as badly as Rob hurt me, I’m not out to tank his career.” That one statement lands like an atomic bomb, silencing everything around us. Rhett’s expression goes blank.
He glances away, like it hurts to keep his eyes on me, and gives his head a subtle shake. “Jesus. Do you still have a thing for him?”
I wave a hand in front of us while I comb the opposite one through my hair. “No! Of course not! No. It’s just complicated. And it’s not about him. Not really. I know you don’t care what people think. But me? I do. And you keep steamrolling that. Maybe I shouldn’t care so much about what people think, and maybe you should care more. Maybe your family is unsupportive of you, or maybe they’re scared that every time you walk out that door, it might be the last time they ever see you.”
I’m panting now, and Rhett looks stricken by what I’ve just said. “Other people’s feelings are involved. It’s not all about you and what you want, Rhett. Not when you love someone. I care what my sister thinks of me—even if I shouldn’t, even if she’s mean. And my dad?” I point behind me. “The man in that room, who could have died today, is the only person who really cares about me, the only person I’ve got. They both deserved better than hearing about this the way it just came out. Maybe Rob got what he deserves, but what about the rest of us?”
His teeth grind as he gazes down at me, unblinking. He wipes a hand across his mouth. “I get that. I do. And I’m so fucking sorry I blew up like I did. But Summer”—he reaches for me, but I step back—“you’ve got me too. I’m not sure how else to prove it. I keep telling you, and it’s like you don’t hear me.”
My eyes sting. He’s saying all the things I so badly want to hear. He’s offering me all the support I so desperately want from him. But I’m also really fucking angry at him for betraying my trust and for being right about so much and wrong about so much all at once.
I’m angry that this isn’t easier. That nothing in my life ever has been. At this moment, I’m not feeling very glass half full, and I take it out on the good man standing in front of me. Because as much as I want to, I can’t rely on a man who’s so busy not caring what anyone thinks that he’ll hurt me to prove the point.
“Oh, I hear you, Rhett. I just don’t believe you. What you did tonight doesn’t feel like you caring about me. It feels like you losing control and flying off the handle.” A surge of nausea hits me, and I hold a hand over my mouth as I pin him with watery eyes. “Go home. To your hotel. Just go. I can’t deal with you right now.”
“What does that mean? For you and me?”
My eyes close. Even that small movement hurts. Everything hurts. A laugh that blends into a sob leaps from my lips. “I don’t know, Rhett. I’m not even sure there is a you and me. We’ve never been more than here and now.”
And then I push past him to cry in the washroom, just like I planned.
Well, a little harder than I planned.
29
Summer
Summer: Winter, can we please talk? I’m coming back to the hospital today. I can meet you any place, any time. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I would just like to tell you my side of the story.