Trouble (Dogwood Lane #3)(81)

She’s right. I know it immediately. I’ve seen so many people that aesthetically appear completely together. You imagine their pantry has those cute little tubs with stickers labeling every bin and that all the clothes in their washer and dryer were just put in there an hour ago, not maybe a week.

Those people are always the worst when you peel them back. It always looks good because they’ve spent special effort to try to hide the truth from the world.

“At least the mess-ups are being honest,” Harper points out. “Those are the people you can trust. The people being real.” She pats my leg and lets that thought dangle in the air.

I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to think about anything, really. No amount of tossing this back and forth is going to fix anything.

“You know what,” I tell Harper. “If you don’t mind, I’m kind of over talking right now. I think I need to just mull it over myself.”

“Got ya. I’m going to run you a bath and hope you decide to skip the rum tonight. I know that’s not what your best girlfriends are supposed to say, but I want you to keep a clear head about things.”

“Thank you. Honestly.”

We get to our feet before Harper pulls me into a hug. It’s a warm, motherly embrace, and I’m so thankful for it.

“You’re going to figure this out,” she says. “Whether it’s with Penn or not isn’t in your control. He has to sort himself out. All you can do is be ready to identify whether someone is qualified to love you when they come into the picture.” She gives me a satisfied smile and disappears through the doorway.

I hear the pipes squeak in the wall before the sound of water filters through the air.

Penn’s face takes over my mind as that reminds me of him and Dogwood Lake and our time there. I can almost smell his cologne and feel his touch. Tears fill my eyes again as I fight my heart not to squeeze so tight.

He felt right. Being with him felt so good.

If everything that’s supposed to work out does in the end, why does this feel like the end of the road for us? Because I know that Harper is right. You trust the person who doesn’t give up. And, at the moment, the man who gave up is Penn.

That breaks my heart.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

PENN

Fuck it.”

I sit back down for the three hundredth time since I got up an hour ago. I get ready for work with the intention of going and then end up right back here when I realize I shouldn’t.

I can’t.

My house is so quiet. Eerily quiet, even for this early. It’s as if it refuses to talk to me until I get my shit together.

It was a long night. Miserable, actually. Not checking on her killed me, but I think it would make matters worse—for both of us.

My head goes into my hands. Everything is spiraling harder and harder, and I keep screwing up worse and worse. I can’t even find one thing to focus on to fix or how to cope with any of this.

I don’t know what to do.

And my typical solution at figuring out what to do—by ignoring it—isn’t working.

I tug at my hair. The back of my neck is so tight that I wonder if it’s possible for it to snap from the strain. If I pull hard enough, can I actually pull my head off?

It feels like it’s possible . . . and like it might not be that bad of a thing to happen.

When I let go, my head drops farther before I lift it up. It feels like a watermelon, all heavy and lopsided.

The clock on the wall tells me I should’ve been at work an hour ago. Matt’s probably cussing me, trying to figure out how to smooth it over with Meredith, and I’m sorry for that. I hate putting him in that position, but I can’t show up there today.

Not and see Avery.

“I wish I could just make this all go away,” I mumble. But even if I could, I don’t know what part of it I’d make vanish.

The time I spent with Avery has been the highlight of my life. It’s been the easiest to be me, the most inspiring on many levels. I’ve looked forward to every day more since I met her than I even did when I was on spring break in Florida that time.

And that was a damn good time.

Still, the parties and girls and free-flowing alcohol with not a care in the world don’t even come close to sitting on the couch with her while watching a movie.

The events of yesterday have gone through my mind so many times that they’re starting to blur. It’s beginning to seem like I wasn’t even there. Maybe I dreamed it. But if I did, I wouldn’t be alone right now with this hole in my chest. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to see Avery’s face as she walked away from me, over and over again. The disappointment in her eyes. The pain. The resolution.

Because of me. The fuckup. The boy who’d never amount to anything, as my dad both told and showed me year after year.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The knock on the door is so loud that I wonder if my house is on fire and someone is trying to let me know. I spring to my feet and pull it open with the full expectation to see men in red outfits with reflective tape.

Instead, I get a guy with a scowl and narrowed eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Matt asks.

“Good morning to you too.”

I leave the door open and turn back to the living room. As expected, the door slams shut, and his heavy steps follow me down the hall.