Fifteen

David

It had been a long time since I felt like this.

No matter what I did or said, I wasn’t going to change Sutton’s mind.

I didn’t try to get her to answer the door again. That would be torture for her. She’d said her piece, and that was that. But it felt hollow.

And the thought that she didn’t trust me with him was equally heartbreaking. He wasn’t my kid, but I adored him. I wanted Sutton to trust me with him. I never expected that to happen overnight, but it’d been a year of me helping out with him. I hadn’t realized that would change when we started dating.

My mind was a firestorm.

It burned through me relentlessly.

But there was nothing I could do. So, I did the only thing I knew how to do. I worked. I lost myself in paperwork and emails and contracts. It was the easiest way not to have to process what had happened.

I was always the first person in the office anyway, but I got in before the doors were even unlocked on Monday morning. It sucked because mysterious wet stuff we never saw in Texas was falling from the sky in a torrential downpour, and someone had forgotten a fucking umbrella. I fumbled with my keys until I got inside, turned off the security system, and went up to my office, soaked through. Really…just fucking great. When it rained, it poured.

I slopped my suit jacket onto a chair to dry, untucked my white button-up, and then pulled it off as well. When I was nearly undressed in my office was the moment Morgan stuck her head inside.

“David, you’re in extra early…” Then, she stopped. “Well, isn’t this awkward?”

“Hey, Mor. What? What’s awkward?”

“I’m pretty sure Julia would file this under sexual harassment. So, I should probably tell you to put your clothes back on and get to work.” Morgan snickered.

“Forgot the umbrella.”

“Maybe keep an spare suit in the office next time.”

“Roger that.”

“Or air-dry them in the restroom?”

“Drying an Armani shirt with a hand dryer in the restroom is about the state of my life right now.”

Morgan tried to rein in her laughter. “You look like a sad, wet dog. What happened to you?”

“Sutton,” I told her.

Her laughter died out. “I thought things were going well.”

“They were going well. Until she decided they weren’t.”

“I see.” She sighed heavily. “I mean, I’m not going to say I’m surprised. I’m not surprised. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel for you. Why don’t we cut out early and get a beer? You can cry on my shoulder.”

“Early?” I asked in disbelief.

“You know…like five.”

I shook my head. Morgan was such a workaholic. Five really was getting out of work early for her. She was lucky to have found Patrick because most people wouldn’t have been able to keep up with her.

“Yeah. That’d be good. Thanks.”

She turned to leave but then glanced back over her shoulder. “You could have called, you know?”

“Yeah. Except I’m a dude.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, bruh.”

I knew she was sincere. She would have talked it out with me or brought over a bottle of whiskey. But, for some reason, I hadn’t even thought to call anyone. No one could fix what had happened. And Morgan was Sutton’s sister. It didn’t feel fair to dump that on her. But I guessed that was what friends were for.

After work, Morgan drove us over to the local bar Flips. It was a real townie kind of place with hardwood flooring, fluorescent lighting, and pool tables in the back. We plopped down on stools in front of a bar that had seen better days, but there was plenty of alcohol, so that was what mattered.

“Wright,” the bartender, Peter, said to Morgan when she sat down. “What can I get you?”

“Stella. Make it two.”

He popped the bottle caps off the tops and then passed them over to us. Morgan handed him a credit card and asked him to keep it open. For me apparently. Not her because she was driving.

“So…Sutton. Fill me in.”

“You can probably imagine what happened.”

“My sister is a rare breed. I never know exactly what’s going to happen with her.”

I shrugged and then filled her in. How we’d had our second date, and things had gotten heated, and then the next day, poof. Just like that, back to square one. Or maybe worse. Maybe I’d been moved off the board. Because, at least before, I’d had a chance, standing on the sidelines. Now, she had no interest in even being friends with me.

“Okay. Well, she probably needs time,” Morgan said logically.

“I know.”

“Like, a lot of time. Her husband died.”

“I’m not unaware of any of this. I think it’s perfectly reasonable for her to question what’s happening along the way. I get where she’s coming from on Jason. If she doesn’t want us to be together when he’s around, I can respect that, too.”

“But she still broke up with you.”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Maybe she’s really not ready.”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t think that’s it?”

“No, I believe what she says. I don’t know; something she said rubs me wrong, and I can’t figure it out.”

“Everything she said rubs you wrong,” she said, bringing the bottle to her lips.

“Maverick’s parents had been there. They had Jason. Maybe they’d influenced her.”

“Well, I could definitely see that. I’ve met them before. Good old Ray and Linda,” Morgan said dryly. “They live on a farm in a rural area outside of Lubbock. They’re not exactly…progressive, and they lost their son last year. I’m sure they’d spit all sorts of fear into Sutton.”

I shrugged. I didn’t know them, and I couldn’t judge. “Even if they did, she had to already have those fears, right? They’re not making her feel this way without it also coming from herself.”

“True.”

We lapsed into silence as I ruminated on all of that. I drank my beer and ordered a second. A good buzz might help to loosen me up, but it wasn’t going to make me figure out this mystery any better.

“Maybe I should try to talk to her again.”

“Nope,” Morgan said. “You should give her some space. If it’s just Mav’s parents’ fears clogging her mind, then she’ll come around. If it’s for real, then you’re shit out of luck.”

My eyes caught Morgan’s, and I gave her a steadying look. “I can’t give up on her. For the first time in a year, I saw her really relax and open up. I don’t want to walk away from that.”

“I know, but that’s not always your choice.”

“Do you think we were irresponsible about Jason?”

She held her hands up. “I don’t have kids. I don’t know what that’s like.”

“Theorize.”

“Maybe it was too soon?” she offered. “Only Sutton can answer that.”

“She was the one who invited me over.”

“Second-guessing your choices is the nature of grief. Everyone grieves differently, and Sutton has been doing this almost entirely alone for a year. Being a mom is not just a part of her; it’s who she is. If she feels like she’s threatened Jason in any way, she’s going to clam up. You have to be ready and willing to be there if she comes back out of her shell.”

“I am.”

Morgan nodded and tapped my hand. “Good. I thought so. Plus…I could maybe talk to her and see where her head’s at.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.” I finished the second beer, and the bartender handed me a third.

“You’re my friend and my CFO. I need your head in the game. So, I’m going to talk to my sister. That’s about as much as I can do.”

“Thanks, Mor.”

“I’m also going to get you drunk. So, bottoms up.”

She raised her bottle to mine, and I clinked it against hers. She smiled, and I smiled. Then, she made me drink until I was nearly falling over, and she had to walk me into my house. I passed out cold before she even left the house. Such a great friend.