But it couldn’t go anywhere, and I couldn’t just pretend like we could have a future, not the kind of future she wanted and deserved. What would happen when she realized that? What would happen when she realized that she’d quit her awesome job, moved back to this podunk town she’d been so excited to leave, and given up everything she’d worked so hard to get . . . for me? Once she realized that I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be, she’d hate me.
Plus, the more time I spent with her, the deeper my feelings got. She had me questioning decisions that I’d already made a lifetime ago.
No. She had to leave. That was the only way.
And now that I’d been such a dick to her, maybe she wouldn’t even hesitate. Maybe she’d come to the conclusion that she’d been wrong about me and could do a hell of a lot better. Why would she want a guy like me anyway, who lashed out at her when he got mad or scared or frustrated, who said things he didn’t mean, who didn’t know how to love her the way he should? I hadn’t even been able to say the word.
But God knows I felt it. I fucking felt it hard.
I always would.
My mother invited me to stay for dinner. Asher said he wasn’t hungry yet and went to his room to lie down, so it was just her and me at the table. After about ten minutes of me scowling silently into my chili, she knew something was wrong.
Damn women and their Spidey sense. I was so sick of being probed by their know-it-all minds.
“What’s with you?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing. I know that face. Your dad used to make it after a bad day.”
“I had a bad day.” I picked up the beer bottle I’d opened and took a drink.
She eyeballed me shrewdly. “What’s Meg doing tonight?”
“I don’t know.”
“Rehearsal dinner?”
“Maybe.”
“You seeing her later?”
“Doubt it.”
She was quiet for a moment, but I felt her judgmental eyes on me. She knew I’d fucked it up somehow.
“What time’s the wedding tomorrow?”
“Dunno.”
“You’re still going, aren’t you?”
“Nope.”
She set her spoon down with a clunk. “And why not, Noah McCormick?”
“Because she doesn’t want me there.”
“Oh? How come?”
I took another few swallows of beer before deciding I might as well tell her the truth—or at least part of it. “Because we had a disagreement.”
“A disagreement! About what?”
“About whether or not she should move back home.”
“Uh huh.” Her fury radiated off her in waves. “And which side were you on?”
“There weren’t sides, Ma. She asked me if I thought it was a good idea, and I said no.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I don’t want her quitting her job and moving back here for me.”
“And you know for sure it would be for you, is that it?”
I shrugged. “That’s pretty much what she said. And I don’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend. I told her that from the start.”
“Uh huh.” She was keeping her temper in check, probably because she was worried Asher might hear. He hated shouting. But after another minute of silently seething, she grabbed her half-full bowl and stood up. On her way to the kitchen, she used her free hand to whack me upside the back of my head so hard my cap flew off and landed on the table.
“Hey!” I yelled.
“That’s for being an idiot,” she said calmly, exiting the dining room.
I grabbed my hat and angrily shoved it back onto my head. From the front room, Renzo came trotting over to my side. Grateful, I scratched behind his ears. At least someone still loved me.
“Come on, boy. Let’s go home.”
I left my mother’s house without speaking to her and went home, but being there only reminded me of Meg. It was unnerving that I’d lived there for years and been just fine, but now everything I saw, every piece of furniture, was somehow connected to her. The kitchen counter. The couch. The bathroom. My bed.
I cracked open another beer and sat in front of the TV, but before I’d even finished half the bottle, I found myself too restless to sit still. My head was full of questions. What was she doing? Did she hate me? Had she told her family I was an asshole? Was she ever going to speak to me again?
Frowning at the television, I scolded myself for letting it come to this.
Hadn’t I known better? Hadn’t I warned her? Hadn’t I