Still The One - Carrie Elks Page 0,83

find out your dad’s the creepy guy you always avoided?”

“I don’t know.”

He stepped forward again, his arms wrapping around her. But she was still holding herself, her elbows jabbing into his chest as he tried to hug her. It was like embracing stone. Hard, unyielding. She didn’t melt into him, didn’t sob against his chest. She just stood there, stiff as a bone, as though she was enduring it for his sake.

“Van…”

She pulled her head up, her cheeks shining with tears. “I should never have come back home.”

Her words pierced him like a knife. “What do you mean?”

“I was okay in Richmond. I’d built a life. I had a good job. I was respected.” Her whole body was trembling. “But here, it’s like I’m that kid again and nobody will let me grow up. I’ll always be paying for the sins of my mother.”

Tanner blinked, trying to find the right words. But he felt like a kid, too. The one she’d rejected. The one who ran away when his mom died. Like his skin was slowly being peeled off, leaving him raw and vulnerable. “That’s not true,” he finally said. “Look at tonight. All these people are here for you.”

“They’re here for you, not me. Your friends, your family. Even the good townfolk came because the Hartsons are someone around here. And they support their own.” She let out a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Imagine the talk at Chairs next week. They always said my mom was a floozy, and she just proved them right. They’re going to talk about this for months. And about me.” Another sob caught in her throat. “And Zoe, too.”

“Who gives a damn?” he asked her. “Seriously, just ignore them. Their opinion means nothing.”

“That’s easy to say when you’ve never been looked down on.” Her voice was soft. Almost calm, compared to a few minutes ago. “And I’m glad you haven’t. So glad. Because you don’t deserve this. Not me or my mom or the baggage that comes with us.”

He swallowed hard, as the strangest feeling washed over him. Like déjà vu, except he knew he’d never stood in this room with her before.

But he’d stood in another place, and listened to her tell him she didn’t want to be with him anymore. That he needed to go to Duke and live his life without her. That what they had between them meant nothing.

The memory made his mouth go dry.

That’s when he knew it. She didn’t have to open her mouth for him to know what she was going to say. He could read every word on her beautiful face. It was like watching a bullet careening in slow motion toward its mark. He knew it was going to hit, but the waiting was agony.

“Don’t say it,” he said, his voice full of gravel.

Her eyes met his, and he saw nothing there. Just a blankness that made his stomach turn. “Tanner, I—” She swallowed hard. “We both know this was a mistake.”

“No it wasn’t. It isn’t, Van.” He wrapped his arms around her tighter. She felt so slight, almost as if she wasn’t there.

“I can’t do this. Not to you. All these people, they support you, they support the drive-in. If you lose a single customer because of me… I couldn’t stand it.”

“Look at me,” he demanded, tipping her chin until her gaze met his. “I don’t give a shit about this place. I opened it for you. Everything’s about you, Van. All of this. My whole damn life.”

Tears streamed down her face. “Then do me the honor of letting me go. I’m no good, Tanner. It’s in my blood. I’ll never be able to walk down the street without people talking about me. I won’t be able to go to Chairs without hearing murmurs everywhere I turn. And I’m used to it. I almost expect it. But I don’t want that for you. You deserve so much better.”

“So what are you saying?” He could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. “That you’re throwing us away for my own good?” His voice rose up. “Again?”

“You heard what Nora said. I’m trash, just like my mom.”

He had to lean forward to hear her, her voice was so faint. It killed him to hear her talking like this. But there was something else happening, too. It was like his skin was slowly closing up, as thick as leather to protect him from her.

From the aching pain caused by every word she uttered.

There