Hitched (Promise Harbor Wedding) - By Erin Nicholas Page 0,79

empty physically and emotionally here.

Two days ago, she had finally let herself sit down and just be. Once she realized it wasn’t anything to be afraid of, she’d found sitting still was quite conducive to reading and watching movies, and—since she did love cooking and Lydia had yet to concede her spot in the kitchen—she’d gotten hooked on the Food Network. She’d also mastered eight of the twelve levels in the video game she’d “borrowed” from Lydia’s stash.

Lydia was just so happy to not have her underfoot that she didn’t make noise about Allie using her stuff—much.

Bend was good for her. Promise Harbor wasn’t. How could he let her just go back without a fight?

Allie hadn’t said anything and Gavin stepped forward. “I love you, Allie.”

She bit her bottom lip. And didn’t say she loved him too.

“I want you to stay,” Gavin went on. “This is where you belong. You’re happy here. We’re happy here. Marry me.”

“And if I stay,” she finally said. “I’ll feel guilty every single day. Is that what you want?”

“Guilty about what? Making your dad and brothers do things for themselves for a change?”

She was clearly fighting tears and it hurt to watch her hurt like that. But he had to do it.

“You don’t understand,” she argued. “My dad needs help, Gavin. His…injury… He can’t…”

Gavin frowned. “Injury?”

She sighed. “He was in a motorcycle accident when I was seventeen. He has a mild brain injury. He has trouble remembering things and making appointments and…stuff.”

Gavin’s frown deepened. Mr. Ralston had been a teacher at the high school until their junior year in high school. Gavin had never had him for class, but knew that he’d been well-liked. Gavin remembered the accident, and he knew there had been some injuries that had resulted in Mr. Ralston no longer being able to teach full time, but Gavin had assumed that the trauma had been physical only. No one in town ever talked about any other issues—and in Promise Harbor that was incredible. “I didn’t know about that.” But it made a lot of sense.

“I know. I…we…tried to keep it pretty private. Mom was obsessive about covering things up for him. The school—and the town—thought he quit teaching so he could help the Brewsters with their business and the Brewsters helped protect him too.”

“Including Josh. And you.”

She nodded.

Of course.

Gavin shoved his hand through his hand. “Dammit, Allie.” He looked into her eyes. She looked worried and sad and frustrated. And in the midst of being pissed at her, he still wanted to hug her and make it okay. “You don’t think that’s something I might have wanted to know?” he asked, feeling his gut knot. “This is a big part of your life. It explains a lot of things. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

She met his frown with one of her own. “We didn’t do the serious stuff, Gavin. We didn’t talk about our families. It was all just fun and good times. Remember?”

He did and he suddenly wanted to throw something. Fuck. It was all backfiring. He’d done those things because he loved her, because he didn’t want to see her hurting or sad. But what it had done was engrain in her the idea that that was all he had to give. And it was all his fault.

“That’s why you always had to be there?” he asked.

She nodded. “My mom took care of things, but she took on so much that I felt like I had to be there when I could to take some of the load.”

Gavin felt his chest tighten. God, she’d been there for all of them. How could he…

Despair swept over him and he felt like he was being suffocated. He clenched his fists and worked on breathing. Despair because he couldn’t keep her.

He couldn’t make her stay. In fact, he should probably encourage her to go. It was the right thing, in many ways. If she stayed, her mind and heart would be four thousand miles away in Promise Harbor anyway.

Did he want to live that way? Knowing that her life with him made her feel guilty?

“My dad’s basically alone, Gavin,” she said. Her tone had lost its intensity. Now she just sounded…tired. “If Josh isn’t looking out for him and I’m not there, there’s really no one. My brothers are too wrapped up and honestly…” she took a deep breath, “…it’s not all their fault. Mom and I kept things from them too. We’ve covered Dad’s deficits up for so long, I doubt