“Man, I can smell the stench from here,” Brody said to Hunter, waving a hand in front of his nose like he was in fucking middle school. Then the prick looked at Cash. “You smell that?”
Cash leaned across the bar top and took a whiff. “What, the self-loathing? Or the pile of Hunter-brewed shit he’s been wallowing in all week?” Cash said, taking way too much joy in Hunter’s current situation.
“Fuck you.” Hunter placed a hand on Cash’s face and gave a hard shove.
Had the situation been swapped, had Cash gotten himself in the middle of a shit sandwich with a woman, Hunter would have seen the humor. But things weren’t swapped, and this wasn’t just any woman. Mackenzie was the woman.
Always had been. He’d just been too stupid to see it. And now it had been thirteen long days of silence. Thirteen days since he’d seen her, held her, even spoken with her. She’d told him in no uncertain terms that they couldn’t work, their lives were too different, and pursuing anything more would only end in further heartache.
Further heartache? Hunter fought back a grim chuckle.
He already ached. He didn’t think his heart could ache any more if it stopped beating. Even that would be a welcomed change if it meant the pain would stop with it.
“You going to call her?” Brody asked.
Hunter looked out the front of the bar and watched the rain slide down the windowpanes. An early spring storm had blown in from the south, bringing with it tropical gusts strong enough to cause horizontal rain. Most of the shops had closed for the night, and patrons brave enough to battle the elements had headed home hours ago.
“I put the decision in her hands,” he said, looking at his cousins. Oh, his cousins were looking back at him like he was a complete idiot. “What? From the beginning she made it clear she needed time, so I am going to give her what she wants.”
“If you think that’s what she wants, you’re worse off than I thought,” Brody said.
“Since when are you for me pursuing Mackenzie?”
“Since it became clear that the two of you were meant to be together, and on your own you’re bound to screw this up. Again,” Brody said bluntly.
“What do you mean, again?”
Brody laughed. “For the first time since your divorce, you have a shot at the real deal. Too bad you’re so busy trying to uncomplicate everything for everyone that you’re screwing over the one person who’s had your best interests in mind the entire time.”
“And now I’m putting her interests first.”
“Explain how you running off to your big dog and pony show is putting her first,” Cash said.
“I’m not running off. I don’t run. I’m giving her space.” Only he was afraid this space would eventually lead to breaking his heart. Today they would be friends, but tomorrow she would be sending him straight to voice mail. The next thing he knew, she’d cut ties completely.
“We’ve been asking for space for years, but you keep coming back and hounding us like the damn plague,” Brody said.
“She’s different.” Of that he was certain.
“Exactly.” Cash laughed. “And yet you’re here. Wasting time with your bros, like some high school prick, waiting for her to make the next move, because you forced the ball into her court.”
“Yeah, I fucked up. I had three weeks to convince her how perfect it could be. Three weeks! So I pushed too hard too fast.” Hunter shoved back from the bar and stood. “Now I’m trying to fix it.”
“You got it all wrong.” Brody stood too, got in his way, and blocked his path. “You had forever.” Brody’s face softened. “Your plan, though? The perfect one where Mackenzie fits seamlessly into your already scheduled world tour? That plan had three weeks. Love doesn’t submit to a concert tour.”
“I told her I love her.” And she’d told him she wanted out.
“Yeah, you also told her your love was conditional. That for it to work it had to be on your terms and your timeline.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You sure? Because when you get laser focused on making things happen, you don’t leave a lot of room for input or error. And Mackenzie’s continued success depends on a daily routine of trial and error,” Brody said. “And at the first error, instead of reworking your world, you threw your hands up and walked.”
Jesus, was his cousin right?
Hunter gripped the back of his neck and squeezed, trying to stop the panic that had been strangling him all week. It didn’t help. Nothing seemed to help. With every minute that passed, the stranglehold became stronger, tighter, working its way around his neck until he was certain he would stop breathing.
He leaned against the counter, or maybe his lungs finally gave up the fight. He wasn’t sure, but suddenly his vision dimmed and all he could see was the past few weeks—rushing at him with a force too staggering to remain upright.
He replayed how terrified she’d been about losing Muttley, how resigned she’d been about him going off to live this amazing life. A life that would mean nothing without her.
Without love.
“Simplifies everything, doesn’t it?” Brody said with a smug smile.
Hunter couldn’t find a goddamn thing to smile about. Mackenzie wasn’t running. She’d given him her love—the only way she knew how. And what had he done? Said it wasn’t enough. He’d never made enough room for them to even exist. Never made room for her love. And he knew exactly how that felt.
He’d been so desperate to make it work he hadn’t taken the time to ask her what wasn’t working. So afraid of losing out on love again, losing out on a life with her, he’d somehow missed the “with her” part.
She hadn’t missed it. She’d seen exactly what life with him would be like. Her alone in a dark room and him surrounded by the house lights.
He stared at the storm raging outside, and a flash of light exploded over the city. He looked at his cousins, both of them smiling like idiots. “I gotta go.”
Brody clapped him on the shoulder. “Figured as much.”