“WHICH ONE OF YOU told Blaire about the dating app?” Lance eyes his brothers and then Peck. “Was it you?”
Peck holds his hands up in front of him. “Wasn’t me. I haven’t talked to her in a couple weeks, not since I needed to know the legal ramifications of borrowing Kip’s Sheriff cruiser.”
“Why did you do that?” I laugh, snuggling against Walker’s shoulder. He strokes my arm, leaning his cheek against my head while we listen to his family.
“It’s a long story that really won’t come out right,” Peck winces. “You had to be there.”
“What did Blaire say?” I ask.
He shrugs, bringing a bottle to his lips. “She called Kip. I don’t think he’s coming after me or anything.”
“Back to the topic at hand,” Lance says, “which one of you told her about the app? I got sixty-two texts from her today, detailing the hazards of using an app and meeting people online.”
“Like she hasn’t fucked some dude she met online,” Machlan snorts. “I don’t believe that bullshit for a second.”
Nora places a hand on Peck’s shoulder as she looks around the table. “Anyone need anything? Sure is quiet up there without you, Mach. The women don’t want to talk to me, I guess.”
Machlan smirks, his eyes as dark as Walker’s are sparkling. “Give ’em enough whiskey and you can get them to do whatever you want.”
“Ew,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “I think I’m going to puke.”
Peck scoots away from the table, taking his bottle with him. “Come on, Nora. I’ll go talk to ya.”
The bar is quiet for a Friday night; the “regulars,” as Machlan called them, are the only ones in the place. The music isn’t too loud, the chaos not as crazy as it has been in times past. I keep looking around for Tommy, but Machlan assured me he hasn’t shown his face again since Walker rearranged it.
As if he knows what I’m thinking, he kisses the side of my head. “You okay?”
“I’m good,” I say. Glancing around at the Gibson boys, Machlan giving Lance hell about a woman they both apparently know, Peck at the bar entertaining Nora, I realize just how good I am.
“What are you thinking?” Walker asks, his mouth pressed against my temple.
“I’d like to bring my sister here someday. She wouldn’t have a clue what to do with your brothers, but she’d get a kick out of Peck,” I say. “I should bring her in the winter and make her see what I’ve been dealing with up here.”
“I love the winter,” Walker says.
“You what? How could you? It’s horrible.”
“This year we’re taking you to Bluebird,” Machlan says, leaning forward. “It’s old stripper hills that we’ve been sledding since we could walk. Funnest shit you’ll ever do. Even Mr. Lame here goes.”
“I’m not lame, you asshole,” Lance snorts. “I’m often busy with work-related responsibilities.”
Machlan looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “I know what you were doing and it had nothing to do with history.”
“It’s history now,” Lance grins before taking a long drink of his beer. “But, yeah, we’ll take you out there, Sienna. You’ll love it. We fill thermoses up with hot chocolate and spend the day out there acting like idiots.”
“Grown men sledding?” I laugh. “Do you go, Walker?”
“I usually take a car hood or two to use as sleds,” he shrugs. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
“Look at these pics from last year . . .” Machlan digs out his phone and starts swiping through the list. “Come on. Get over here, Slugger.”
“Not you too,” I whine, untangling myself from Walker. Moving around the table, I look at Machlan’s phone. Pictures of all of them in the snow, bundled up in overalls and beanies, trying to go down this ginormous hill fill the screen. There are snaps of snowball fights, a little blood in the snow from a busted lip, and someone trying to stand on one of the car hoods.
It looks like one of the best days ever.
“That’s amazing,” I tell them, pausing on a picture of them with their arms around each other. “We need to print that.”
When I look up at Walker, his eyes are trained over my shoulder. My smile fades as his jaw drops slowly towards the table.
“What?” I ask. Looking at Lance, he’s looking the same direction. “What’s going on, guys?”
I turn around to face the door, my heart sinking. Scanning the bar, from Nora and Peck to the wall of beer signage and mirrors on the other, there’s nothing there. Just a group of people that have been there all night.
Just as I’m about to ask the guys what they’re seeing, a ripple of goosebumps, a warning from something in my psyche, rolls through my body. It’s so hard, so violent, that I actually shiver.
Then I see her. A woman with inky black hair that’s cut into a bob with high cheekbones heading our way. Her steps are slow and pointed, her pink lips twisted into a “gotcha” formation. An eruption flares from my soul, a fire-breathing dragon shooting towards the woman walking towards us.
My shoulders go back, my face deadening in a self-preservation mode I’ve managed to develop over years of being in public situations with people I dislike. You stand still. Smile pretty, don’t sweat it. Sweating it gives them an advantage.
Never lose the advantage.
“What did you do now, Lance?” I joke, but I’m not sure any of them hear me. I move away from Machlan and head towards Walker when I stop mid-step.
“Hey, honey,” she says, a swagger in her shoulders as she looks at Walker. “I’m home.”
Machlan’s hand steadies me, resting on my forearm as I grab the back of the chair in front of me. Walker doesn’t look at me. Neither does Lance. Nothing happens except Machlan angling himself between her and me, the same way he did the night Tommy grabbed my elbow.
“What are you doing in here?” Machlan roughs.
“It’s nice to see you too,” she grins. “What’s happening, Lance?”
He looks at me, and despite her greeting towards Walker, despite the sickness curling my stomach as she walked this way, it’s in this moment buried in Lance’s eyes that I know this is much worse than I even imagined.
“Is this her?” she asks, tilting her head towards me. She looks at Walker with a familiarity that pierces my heart. He returns her stare with a level of intimacy that goes ahead and hammers my heart into pieces.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Walker steels, bracing as if he’s about to be hit with a tidal wave at the last second. Jaw set, forearms flexed, shoulders broad and wide, I check off all the subtle ticks I know he has when he feels unsure. With each thing, my lip begins to quiver a little more.
“Sienna . . .” His voice wobbles, so unlike him. There’s fear in his eyes as he pleads with me to wait a minute. To not press. To give him the second he’s always asked me for.
“Sienna,” the woman sighs. Sticking out a hand, she gives me the foulest, most saccharine-sweet smile I’ve ever been given. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Tabby Gibson. Walker’s wife.”
“What?” I whirl around, shaking my head like I can shake off her words. Her insinuations. Her . . . truths? “Walker?”
It’s in the bow of his chin, the drop of the corner of his mouth, the falling of his shoulders that gives me all I need. I open my mouth but nothing comes out.
My heart hits so hard, as if the staccato will somehow clear the confusion riddling my brain and allow me to understand what’s happening. My hand shakes as I look up at Machlan. “What’s going on?”
The longer I wait for the answer, the more I bleed right in front of them all. Their eyes are on me, watching me absorb a truth they all knew.
A loneliness I’ve never known, a loneliness I can’t imagine ever matching, takes over and tears begin to streak down my face. Tabby stands next to Walker, her arm resting on his shoulder so a diamond can be seen sitting on her left hand. He knocks it away, panic settling across his features, but I don’t care.
Humiliated, her laugh behind me, I race towards the doors. Wiping away tears, ignoring Peck’s call, refusing to even try to hear what Machlan is yelling behind me, I shove open the door and walk into the night.
I go north only because Walker’s truck is south. My shoes click against the concrete as I half-jog, desperately needing to put distance between myself and whatever the hell that was. I don’t know where to go. Who to call. What just happened.
A small patch of grass sits in front of Dr. Burns’ office and before I can stop myself, I fall onto my knees in the damp blades and cry.
An arm goes around my shoulders. It’s too thin, too narrow, smells too much like cedar. “Go away, Peck.”
“Goddammit, Sienna,” he sighs, pulling me into his arms.
“Is it true?” I ask, sniffling snot as the tears refuse to quit.
“Yeah, but it’s not what you think.”
“If the answer is ‘yeah,’ it has to be what I think.”
Walker’s energy finds me before he does, my body tugging towards his. I don’t look up. I don’t have to. I feel him kneeling towards me and his hand stroking my back. I pull away and into Peck, earning a growl from Walker.
“Peck, give us a second,” he says.
“No,” I insist. “Don’t, Peck. Please don’t leave me.”
“Sienna, let me talk to you.” Walker’s voice sticks the knife in further. “Please, baby.”
Sitting up straight, I look at him. The tears have stalled, an effect of the adrenaline, and in its place is all I can describe as rage.
My whole body trembles, actually shaking like I’m freezing. But I’m not. The longer I look at him, the hotter I get.
“You’re married?” I ask, my teeth grinding against each other.
“Sienna . . .”
“It’s a yes or no question. Are. You. Married?”
“Technically, yes.”
“Fuck you.” I get to my feet and head back towards the road.
He grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. “Listen to me.”
“Yes, I will listen to you. I’ll listen to you tell me why you just humiliated me in front of your whole family,” I say, my voice shaking. “Does everyone know this? The whole town?”
“Sienna,” Peck starts, “calm down.”
“Go, Peck,” Walker rumbles.
“I told you this was gonna fucking happen,” Peck roars, ripping into Walker.
“What was I supposed to do?” Walker barks, his hands clenching at his sides. “I didn’t fucking know where she was! How do you divorce a woman who doesn’t want to be found?”
“You go find her,” Peck seethes. “Like we told you. Like all of us fucking told you!”
“Get out of here,” Walker warns.
“Peck,” I say, resting my hand against his chest and gently moving him back. “I need a ride home. Will you take me?”
“Of course.”
“Can you get your truck and pick me up? I want to talk to Walker alone for a minute.”
He watches Walker over my head, pure disappointment scrawled across his face. “You sure?” Peck asks me.
“Yes.”
With a final shake of his head aimed at his cousin, Peck stomps back down the road.
“Don’t be mad at him,” I tell Walker. “He did nothing wrong.”
He runs a hand down his face, his eyes wide and full. “Sienna, listen to me. I haven’t seen Tabby in four years.”
“Tabby,” I say, testing her name out on my tongue. “That’s your wife, right?”
“Don’t make this harder than it is.”
“Me?” I ask in disbelief. “You’re the one who led me on while you have a wife. A wife!” My laughter spills into the night, the sound haunting even to me. “Why would you do this to me? Why would you do this to anyone?”
The tears come again. I breathe in his cologne, look at his handsome face, and realize . . . he belongs to someone else.
“How could you humiliate me like this?” I croak. “What must everyone think? Oh, God . . .” I say, feeling like I might throw up.
“It’s not like that,” he says, extending a hand towards me. I step out of his reach. “Let me explain.”
Spying headlights coming down the road, I shrug in the saddest, most defeated way. “You turned me into the kind of woman I hate. The ignorant, selfish . . .” My words break off, a sob capturing the rest of the thought. I shake off his hug and step towards the sidewalk as Peck nears.
“Sienna, please, don’t walk away.”
“You have no right to ask that of me,” I sniffle. “You have no right to say anything to me.”
“I don’t love her. I don’t want her,” he insists. “Please, Sienna. I want to talk about this. Don’t walk away.”
I’m around the truck before Peck gets it stopped. Climbing inside, I refuse to look at Walker. “Go,” I tell Peck.
He rips down the street. Before we turn the corner, I let myself look one last time in the mirror to see Walker standing in the middle of the street looking as broken as I am.