The Alabama heat is stifling compared to Connecticut. Being the beginning of September, the leaves have already started to change in Rockfield and the heat has given way to cooler temperatures. I spent the last few days there hammering out the details with the house and getting everything signed over in my mom’s name. It’s been like pulling teeth to get it all figured out, but thanks to a buddy of mine who’s in his second year of law school, we finally got it sorted, and she no longer needs to worry about her living situation.
I still can’t believe that asshole left me the house. After everything my mom has done for him over the years and he tries to leave her with nothing. Even on his deathbed he was a selfish son of a bitch.
I step out of the airport and look down at the text message on my phone. According to Tess, Courtney is living with a roommate just outside of Tuscaloosa—about an hour drive from here—and is usually home from work just after six. Considering it’s already five thirty, she should be home by the time I arrive.
I don’t really have a game plan. Honestly, I’m not even sure how the hell I ended up with this plan to begin with. After spending days feeling like I couldn’t breathe, I finally decided I had to do something.
It would’ve been so easy to answer Bree when she tried to reach out, to tell her how miserable I am without her, and beg her to take me back. But I knew it wouldn’t do any good but to further complicate our situation because at the end of the day her reasons for walking away were justified. Those reasons would be the very thing that would haunt our relationship should we choose to move forward, which, honestly, I don’t know is even a possibility. But I know I have to try.
So me being the stupid ass that I am, I concocted a plan to get Courtney’s blessing. Ridiculous, I know. Who spends three hours on a plane to ask his ex-girlfriend for her permission to date her best friend? But it’s the only thing I could think of that gave me any sort of fighting chance. If Bree sees that Courtney supports this then there’s nothing stopping us from being together.
Or at least that’s the hope…
All I know is that I’m fucking dying here. My chest has felt like it’s seconds away from caving in since the moment I watched her walk away. I can’t eat, I barely sleep. All I can think about is her and Jackson, about the family I lost—a family I didn’t even know I wanted until a few weeks ago.
Bree has opened my eyes in a way I never imagined possible. She’s made me see things differently, look at things from a different angle, want things I wasn’t sure I’d ever want.
When I close my eyes, I can see her smile, the way her golden eyes sparkle, and damn if it doesn’t almost cripple me thinking that I may never get to see that again; experience all the incredible things that have got me so twisted I can barely function without her.
What if I never get to wake up next to her again and see her sleeping peacefully in my arms, hair fanned out behind her, lips slightly parted? What if I never get to make her breakfast with Jack again? What if I never get to sit in Jackson’s room and read him his favorite book, the one he told Bree only I can read to him now because I’m so much better at the voices than she is.
I can still see the look on her face when he said it, a mixture of humor and offense. Just thinking about it makes me chuckle, and yet the pain in my chest only swells more.
By the time my Uber arrives at the curb, I’m in even worse shape than I was on the plane. Because now, instead of focusing on what the hell I’m doing here, I’m reliving every single memory with Bree and am fucking downright terrified that I’ll never get any more.
Climbing into the backseat of the small sedan, I verify the address with the driver before settling into my seat.
I’ve never been to Alabama before, never really had a reason. Once we’re out of Birmingham there’s a lot of country and not a whole hell of a lot to see, which offers very little in the way of distraction; which is something I desperately need right now.
There’s this common misconception that men don’t experience emotions as deeply as women. We do. We’re usually just better at keeping them hidden. But anyone can look at me now and know I’m a fucking wreck. There’s no hiding it, no locking it away. The mask I spent years gluing into place has all but disappeared, and for the first time in a very long time, I’m wearing my pain as if it were the mask and not my real face.
Only it is real. I couldn’t fake this kind of misery if I wanted to. The kind that leaves a permanent knot in the pit of your stomach and a weight on your chest that makes it feel impossible to pull in a breath let alone keep breathing for days.
I let this center me, let it drive me, let it push my nerves down and know that it’s either this or live without Bree and Jack for the rest of my life, and I’m not prepared to do that. Even if Bree wants to be with me, as Tess says she does, I know that we will never be able to make it work with Courtney hanging over our heads.
I’m not even sure what I’m going to say to her, only that I need to make her understand how much I love her friend and how desperately I need her.
God, listen to me. I’m so far fucking gone it’s damn near laughable. And yet, I can’t say that I really care. When you find someone like Bree, you don’t let her go no matter what. And if you do, you’re a fucking fool.
Because Bree Kingsley is one of a kind. A girl who has experienced more in her twenty-two years on this earth than most people do in a lifetime and is still standing. Hell, she isn’t just standing, she’s thriving, she’s succeeding, and she’s doing what only a woman like Bree can do. She’s rising above. And fuck if that doesn’t make me love her even more.
When the driver slows outside a newer apartment complex, my focus is pulled back to where I am and why. I take a deep breath, looking up at the beige siding of the three-story apartment building.
After paying for the ride and throwing some extra on for tip, I quickly exit the car, slinging my duffel over my shoulder before shutting the door and offering the driver a swift nod.
Turning, I stare up at the building for several long seconds, trying to muster the courage to go inside. I’m so fucking nervous I feel like a teenager again. My insides buzz with anticipation, and my hands feel like I’ve just dipped them in water. And while I’m not excited to talk to Court, knowing what I have to say won’t be easy, it’s the outcome that this determines that has me all fucked up inside.
Wiping my palms on my jeans, I adjust the strap of my duffel bag and head toward the front door of the building. I’m seconds away from buzzing apartment 3B when I hear her voice wash over me from behind.
“Ant?” I spin to see Courtney, wide-eyed and gawking at me like she’s just seen a ghost, two grocery bags hanging from her hands. “What are you doing here?” she questions before I can get one single word out.
“I was hoping we could talk,” I finally manage to say, swallowing down the knot in my throat.
“I really don’t think there’s anything for us to say to each other.” She quickly steps past me, struggling to get her keys out of her purse with her hands full.
“Here, let me help you.” I reach for the grocery bags, but she quickly jerks out of my reach.
“I don’t need your help, Ant. I don’t need anything from you,” she sneers, hurt evident in her dark eyes.
“Just give me five minutes. Please. I owe you an explanation and an apology.” I soften my voice, once again reaching for the bags which to my surprise she lets me take this time.
Without another word she fishes her keys from her purse and quickly unlocks the door, gesturing for me to go inside before following me in. She takes off up the stairs to the right of the door, another set leading down on the left. I follow her up, waiting until she’s unlocked her apartment door before following her inside.
“You can just set those on the table.” She gestures to a round, glass-top table just to the right of the door in the small dining area.
Depositing the bags down, I look around the space. It reminds me a lot of Bree’s apartment—small dining room off a galley-style kitchen, living room on the other side, and a hallway that leads back to the bedrooms and bathrooms.
When I finally look at Courtney again, she’s leaning against the back of the loveseat that’s angled to act as a separation piece between the living room and dining room, watching me intently.
“So.” I clear my throat, gesturing around the space. “This is a nice place you have here.”
She shrugs, gaze remaining locked on me. “It’s okay.”
“You live here with a roommate?” I ask.
“Alex,” She confirms.
“Did you guys go to Alabama together?” I question, already knowing from Tess that they did.
“We did.” She lets out a breath. “So did you come all this way to ask about my living arrangements, or was there an actual point to this visit?”
“Right, to the point.” I nod.
“Well, how else should I be? The last time we spoke was after I walked in on you kissing my best friend. I guess you could say I’m a little confused why the hell you’re here.”
“As you should be. I’ve been a little confused myself honestly.” I shuffle my feet, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable. “I’m sorry about Bree, about you finding out the way you did. I never wanted that.”
“So you’re sorry for me finding out but not for letting it happen?” she bites, crossing her arms protectively over her chest.
“I won’t apologize for it happening. I can’t. But I am sorry for hurting you. You have to know that I never wanted that.”
“What did you think would happen, Ant? That I’d find out you and my best friend have been lying to me for months, and I’d be happy about it?”
“Of course not, and for the record, it’s only been a couple weeks since we’ve actually been together. Bree didn’t want anything to happen until she had a chance to talk to you first,” I try to explain.
“Well, I see that didn’t last,” she snips.
“It didn’t. But that’s my fault. I pushed. I didn’t give her a choice. I wanted her so badly I didn’t care who got hurt. She tried to fight it, tried to deny it even, but in the end, she couldn’t resist me any more than I could resist her.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“I’m just trying to be honest.”
“Little late for that don’t you think?” She looks down for a long moment, and when her gaze finally meets mine again I can see the tears building behind her chocolate eyes.
I hate that I did this, that I put them there. But I also can’t take it back either. We’re far past the point of prevention.
“Yeah, it is,” I admit. “I didn’t handle this situation very well, I know that. I should’ve told you the night we went to dinner. I wanted to. It was on the tip of my tongue so many times over the course of that night. Nothing had even happened between Bree and me at that point.”
“When did something happen?”
“That night when I went back to her apartment,” I say almost apologetically.
“So you have the opportunity to tell me—don’t—and then go back and what, fuck her? Like that somehow makes any fucking sense.”
“I know it doesn’t make any sense—trust me I do—but I can’t think straight when it comes to her. I’ve been trying like hell to do the right thing, but the second she looks at me it’s like I lose sight of everything else. It’s not an excuse, I know, but fuck, Court, I’m trying to make this right the only way I know how.”
“And what way is that exactly?”
“By telling you I’m sorry.” I let out a slow breath. “This is on me, all of it.”
“It’s not just on you. She’s not innocent. I don’t know why you’re trying so damn hard to protect her. She’s the one who did me wrong. She was my best friend.”
“Is,” I correct her.
“What?” she questions, confused.
“You said she was your best friend. She is.”
“I don’t think that’s your place to say.” Her nostrils flare in anger.
“I know you, Court. I know how much you love Bree and how much she loves you. You two will get past this, you have to.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” Her voice shakes. “She made her choice. She chose to fuck my ex-boyfriend behind my back and lie to me about it. That is entirely on her.”
“Look, I get that what we did was wrong, but really take a step back and look at the situation, Court. It’s been five years since we dated. Five years and we weren’t even that serious.”
“It was serious for me,” she says weakly, unable to meet my gaze.
“I care about you, Courtney. I’ve always cared about you. But you’re lying to yourself if you believe we were ever going anywhere. It was fun while it lasted, but that’s all it was. Maybe a part of you loved me once, but I don’t believe that part of you still exists.”
“How do you know how I feel?”
“It’s been five years. You’ve never once tried to reach out. Never once made an attempt to reconnect with me. And I’m supposed to believe that having dinner with me once after five years has somehow changed all that. I don’t think so.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think. What Bree did is still wrong. She should’ve never kept this from me.” She swipes at a tear that falls down her cheek.
“I agree. And she knows that too. We both should’ve been upfront with you; would’ve saved all of us a lot of pain and upset. But we can’t go back and change it now. All we can do is learn from it and move on. I want happiness for you. I want you to find someone one day who will love you the way you deserve to be loved. But I’m not that guy, Courtney. I never have been.”
“Because of her,” she halfheartedly accuses. “When did you know? That you had feelings for her? When did you know?” she repeats when I don’t answer right away.
“About halfway through senior year,” I admit.
“That long? You stayed with me that long knowing you had feelings for my best friend?” The anger in her voice returns.
“It wasn’t something that just happened out of the blue. I took notice of her then, started seeing her in a different light. It was months later before I realized how my feelings had morphed. Once I did, even knowing I couldn’t be with her, I broke things off with you. Because at the end of the day I knew it was the right thing to do.”
“Did she know?”
“No.” I shake my head. “She never had a clue.”
“I feel so foolish.” She looks down at her feet. “Here I was carrying on about the future all the while you were pining after my best friend.”
“You shouldn’t feel foolish. My feelings for her didn’t take away my feelings for you. I cared about you a lot, I still do. But…”
“But you love her.”
“So fucking much it hurts,” I admit, running a hand through my hair.
“So what is it you want from me, Ant? Why are you really here?”
“Bree broke things off with me the day after you left. Said she couldn’t be with me knowing how deeply our relationship had hurt you.”
“So you thought you could fly all the way out here and convince me to what—call her and beg her to take you back?”
“Of course not. But I was hoping that if you would give me a chance to explain. That if you could see how much I love her and her son, that maybe you could come to terms with us being together.”
“You’re asking for my blessing?”
“In a way, yeah, I guess I am.”
“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, Anthony Treadway. Jesus Christ.” She throws her hands up in the air in frustration.
“I know. And you can fucking hate me for the rest of your life, and I’ll accept that. But not Bree. She needs you. And I, well, I need her.”
“So then what, you both walk away happy while I get shit on?”
“We all end up happy in the long run.” I take a step toward her. “I know how much you love Bree. I know that you would do just about anything to see her happy. No matter what has happened, I can see it in your eyes that fact has not changed.”
“And what, you think you can make her happy?”
“I know I can.” I take another step until only two feet separate us.
Courtney stares at me for a long moment, her eyes locked on mine, gauging me, trying to read me. It’s several long seconds before she finally lets out a breath and her posture relaxes.
“You really do love her, don’t you?”
“More than I could ever say with words.”
“You know if you hurt her, I’ll rip off your balls personally.” For the first time since this conversation began the shadow of a smile plays on her lips.
“I would expect nothing less,” I chuckle.
“I don’t forgive you—either of you—but if you love her like you say you do, and I think you do, then who I am to stand in your way.”
“And Bree?” I question, hope in my voice.
“What happens with her and I will be between her and I. I can’t make any promises. Because no matter what happens next, you still hurt me. Both of you did. And I need to find a way to move on from that. But that will be on me. I don’t forgive you, Ant, not yet. But maybe if you can make her happy I can find a way to.”