My Rebound (On My Own #2) - Carrie Ann Ryan Page 0,8

life, a home. But what the hell?

“I didn’t even know you guys were fighting.”

My mother smiled softly, but it still didn’t reach her eyes. What had I missed? After all these years, what wasn’t I seeing?

My father let out a breath. “There are some things you don’t let your children see, Pacey.”

“We want you to know that we love you. We always have, and we always will. No matter what happens between your father and me, you will always be our number one priority. You may be an adult, but you are still our son.” She looked over at my dad. “Right, Edward?”

“Yes, Penelope. Pacey is our number one. And whatever you decide, Pacey—at least for yourself in the future—know we’ll both be with you. We just won’t be together.”

They kept talking, and I blinked, wondering how the hell this had happened. They had been through so much. They had been young when they got married and had dealt with clashing cultures and families that hadn’t understood their love. They had weathered my countless hospitalizations—and still did, for that matter. Yet they had stayed together. They had only grown stronger. What the hell had I missed when I moved out?

But I knew this wasn’t the time or place to question it further. Instead, my father raised his fingers in a slight gesture, and the waiter came with our check. It didn’t matter that we were at one of the most coveted and elite places for afternoon tea in Denver. I just wanted to scream and try to figure this out. But I wasn’t going to get that. Because I wasn’t allowed to question. That wasn’t what sons did. They listened to their parents and they nodded. They did as they were told. They did not scream or fight or wonder why the hell their parents were getting a divorce after so many years. Why the hell hadn’t I known anything?

“I can see that you’re confused, and we’ll talk about it soon. But right now, we must go. I know you have school starting tomorrow morning. We don’t want to keep you.”

“Mum,” I whispered.

“Another time, Pacey.” My mother squeezed my hand, and then we got up from the table and walked towards the front of the building where the valet was.

“I’m headed to my hotel,” my father said, and I blinked.

“You’re not staying with Aunt Tracy?” I asked.

My mother blushed. “I am, Pacey. Your father will be staying at a hotel. But we’re here for you. I promise.” She kissed my cheek and then walked away, my father nodding after he squeezed my shoulder. They left me alone, standing there wondering how on earth this had happened. And what was I supposed to do about it?

I drove home, rubbing my temple as I did. I could feel a migraine coming on, but I hoped it was only a stress headache. I needed to drink more water, and since I was usually on a schedule when it came to hydrating, I was annoyed with myself for not doing better. I was just a little off. Had been since losing Corinne. I winced as I turned off the highway near the campus. I didn’t want to think about her. She had been a nice girl and was taken from us much too soon. How could a brain aneurysm steal a girl so full of life? And so quickly? We hadn’t even had a proper chance to say goodbye. She was suddenly gone, leaving us all wondering what the hell had happened.

Stress usually exacerbated my condition, even though I did my best to stay on top of everyday routines. Only I hadn’t been lately, and that was on me. I would have to focus on what I could change. And that was to work on my studies, drink water as I should, and pretend like I didn’t have a care in the world. Because that was what I was known for, being laid-back. And that’s what I would keep doing.

Even if it potentially killed me.

I winced at that thought and pulled into the garage behind the home where I lived with three of my friends. At one point, there had been a fifth, but Sanders was no more. And though he would still roam the campus halls and lurk around unsuspecting girls, I didn’t have to have him in my house anymore, at least.

After Tanner had beaten him in that fight, Sanders had told everybody that he didn’t want to be in the same