D is for Deacon (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain) - Page 52

“Is everything going okay with Rebecca?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I really don’t.”

“Ahh. That makes sense.”

“What do you mean by that?” I said, rather more gruffly than I intended. She winced, and I felt my heart drop. Lauren didn’t need me being rude to her. At least the kid was with the babysitter today and didn’t see me being such a grump.

“I mean you look like hell, Deacon,” she said. “You’re acting like it too.”

“Yeah,” I said, stuffing a fry into my mouth and taking a swig of the soda.

“If it makes you feel any better, Rebecca doesn’t look any better than you do.”

I paused. I didn’t know what to make of that. Was that a good thing that she, too, felt like shit? How was that supposed to fix anything? How would it make me feel any better about anything going on?

“Well,” I said, shutting the lid of the container and standing up. “If that’s the case, then you need to tell her to talk to me.”

I grabbed my sodas and went back into my office, not saying another word. I didn’t want to say anything I would regret, either about Rebecca or just to Lauren in general. She was trying to help, even if I didn’t understand how. She was trying to be a good friend. To both of us.

24

REBECCA

REBECCA

I didn’t have any more answers when I tumbled into bed Sunday night than I had when I woke that morning. All throughout the day, I went back and forth about what I really wanted and how I thought I should be handling the situation. It seemed just as soon as I was able to come to terms with a decision and felt confident in it, another thought went through my brain, and I changed my mind.

Eventually my messages to Deacon trickled off, and I didn’t post in the group text anymore. I couldn’t come up with anything to say to the girls that wouldn’t end up with me babbling out everything that was going on, and I didn’t think I was ready for that. This was already too much for me, too complicated and confusing. I didn’t want to bring anyone else into it yet.

At the very least, not before I talked to Deacon about it. If I was going to talk to Deacon about it. That was where the trouble lay. Part of my brain told me I obviously had to tell him. He was the other half of this, and if I was struggling this much with my insecurities and all the questions bouncing around in my head, he deserved to know.

The other part said that was just going to start a conversation I probably didn’t want to have. I couldn’t bear the thought of sitting with Deacon and listening to him tell me that he didn’t take what was happening between us seriously. That I was too young for him, and he was just filling time and keeping himself amused while he waited for someone else to come along. Someone he could see a future with.

I didn’t want to think this wasn’t serious. It might have started with just a crush, but that was where the frivolity ended. As soon as there was the possibility of us being together presented itself to me, I was committed. We hadn’t had a conversation about what we meant to each other. We hadn’t labeled ourselves, and the only times we talked about a future, it was just things we might like to do one day. We’d never mentioned marriage or children.

But that didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about it. I wasn’t looking at this as a casual fling. It wasn’t playtime or puppy love for me. I had never been that kind of person. I didn’t see much point in just meaningless dates and spending a lot of time with someone I knew wasn’t going to pan out into anything.

I was fully aware that wasn’t a popular view. I was much more accustomed to girls my age being encouraged not to settle down too early, not to tie themselves down to any particular guy without taking plenty of time to consider the decision. Many didn’t believe in marriage or any type of lasting commitment at all. They wanted to have fun and saw dating as just another form of entertainment.

That was fine for them. If it was what made them happy and fulfilled them, that was fantastic. I wasn’t one to judge, and it made absolutely no difference to me. I just couldn’t bring myself to think that way. Family was always critically important to me, and losing my parents was enough to show me just how valuable it truly was.

I grew up longing for the kind of love my parents had for each other. They were each other’s whole world, with me being the only thing that even close to compared. They got together young, and right up until their last day on this earth, they were playful and passionate about each other. A day never went by without me seeing them hug and kiss and hearing them tell each other how much they loved each other.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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