“I’m falling fast and hard, and I’m not scared. I’m not afraid of what you have to tell me, and I’m not afraid of how strongly I feel about you. What scares me is the thought that you don’t trust me with your past. With your heart.”
“You have my heart,” she whispers, causing mine to trip over in my chest.
“Then give me your past. I’m right here, looking at the same night sky. You can tell me anything.”
She’s quiet for a few moments before she speaks again. “There was this guy—” She pauses, and I know that whatever it is that happened hurt her deeply, and without knowing the story, I know that if I ever run into the bastard, he’s going to meet my fist.
Chapter 14
Shayne
All I can do is stare out at the night sky. My heart is beating in my chest with dread. With fear. But not at Ford. I could never be afraid of him. I’m about to say words I’ve barely spoken to anyone. My aunt and uncle know the basics. Cassie too. After everything went down last year, it was their house I ran to when I needed to bury my head in the sand and hide from the world for a few hours. Then Chad called home a few days later, and Cassie filled him in. They’re the only ones I confided in with the real story. Everyone else took what they saw or heard from someone there, and the story was twisted from there.
Sighing, I close my eyes and take a seat on the floor. When I open them, I can still see the stars, the bright white specks of light in the sky. The same stars and sky Ford is looking at right now, even though he’s in another state. That thought is soothing to my frazzled mind.
“I met Rodney more than a year ago. He showed up at the bar one night for a drink with another man and stayed until we closed. He was an architect, in town making a pitch to the hospital board for the new surgical wing they’re building. Rodney was young, the youngest at the firm he worked for, smart, and driven. What I think drew me to him right away was the fact he didn’t openly hit on me, like everyone else seemed to do.”
Ford is quiet, so I keep going.
“He didn’t live in town but often returned for work. When he was finished with meetings, he’d always show up at Jet’s. We… well, we hit it off right away. He was twenty-eight, which seemed a lot older, but we didn’t care. It was just nice to talk to someone who had their life together, you know? For a few weeks, he was in town a lot. His firm was overseeing the project, meeting with town and hospital officials, and answering any and all questions regarding the expansion.
“It was about three weeks after he first arrived in town that he asked me to dinner. We went to the expensive Italian place on Main Street, the one with the warm bread and fancy cloth napkins. Afterward, we walked through the park and he kissed me for the first time. It felt nice, like I was being put first for once in my life.”
I take a deep breath, hating reliving this point in my life. I felt stupid, gullible, and ashamed. Worse, I felt used and alone, much like I did as a child, begging for any sliver of attention I could get from my mom, knowing deep down it was never going to happen.
“We worked around his schedule and mine, stealing away any free time we could get when he was in town. Instead of staying at the hotel, he stayed with me above the bar. Within a month, he had a drawer in my bedroom and a suit in my closet since it was easier that way with him coming and going. We made plans. Even though it felt a little rushed, there was this exhilaration I couldn’t explain, and frankly, didn’t want to. We’d stay up into the wee hours of the morning, talking about what the future might hold. I felt content, happy, for the first time in my life.”
“What happened next?” he asks, his voice even and calm.
“His wife showed up at the bar.”
I hear his intake of breath and the scuff of his shoes against gravel. “Jesus, Shayne.”
I find myself standing and starting to pace my apartment as well, the familiar sense of doom and embarrassment taking over. “And before you ask, no I didn’t know he was married. I’d never date a married man, Ford, I swear.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” he replies gently, though I can hear the hint of aggravation in his voice. “Keep going.”
I sigh and close my eyes, reliving that moment as if it happened only yesterday. “It was a Tuesday. Rodney had returned home the Friday before and was expected back in Jefferson on Wednesday to meet with hospital officials for the final approval of the design. It was busy for a Tuesday night. Jet was gone, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle.