The Vincent Boys - Abbi Glines Page 0,78
I really do. You’re nothing like I assumed. But you ain’t good for them boys. They need you out of their life so they can move on and find a way to deal with this.”
She was right. I would always be the one thing standing between them ever mending their fences. I loved Beau. I loved him enough to let him go.
“You’re right,” I replied.
Honey reached over and patted my arm affectionately. “You’re a good girl with a really big heart. Your mama raised you right. I’m thankful Beau had your love. It makes me feel good inside to know someone like you could love him. Thank you.”
I stood up and wrapped my arms around Honey’s shoulders. She stiffened then relaxed and her arms slowly came around me. I wondered how long it had been since someone had hugged her. I squeezed her one good time before letting go.
“Thank you for putting up with me this week,” I said through my tear-clogged throat. Her hazel eyes were misty as she gave me a sad smile.
“I enjoyed the company.”
Before I became a blubbering mess I gave her a small wave and turned to head to the door.
“He’s back in town,” she said. “Just so you know. I gave him your letters.”
I squeezed the brass door knob and stared at the old wooden door. I had to let him go. Asking where he was and how long he’d been back would only hurt worse. With every ounce of will power in my body, I turned the knob and pushed the door open. It was time I went home.
The knock on my bedroom door was immediately followed by, “Ashton, sweetheart, are you in there?” I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was after eight o’clock. Dad was just getting home, which was unusual.
“Yes,” I replied. He opened the door and stepped inside my room. The frown lines on his face looked as if he’d spent a stressful evening somewhere.
“You okay?” I asked, remembering the last time one of my parents had come to my room upset.
“Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something,” he replied and took a seat in the purple chair facing my bed. This was apparently going to be a long conversation. He never sat down in here.
“Okay,” I prompted. His strange behavior was making me nervous.
“You and Sawyer broke up.” He said it as a statement not a question. So I just nodded in confirmation.
“Have you spoken with him lately about anything? Maybe something going on in his family?”
How did my dad know? Unless . . .
“Yes. Today as a matter of fact,” I replied, waiting to see what his next question would be.
Dad cleared his throat and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What did he tell you?”
I understood the frown lines and coming home late meant Dad had been counseling tonight.
“He told me something about Beau.” I wasn’t going to tell Dad Beau’s secret if I was wrong and Dad hadn’t just spent an hour with Sawyer and his parents.
“He told you who Beau’s father is?”
I nodded slowly, unwilling to say more.
Dad let out a sigh and leaned back in the chair.
“Sawyer and his mother have been to see me this evening. They aren’t dealing with this news well. But I’m worried about Beau. He’s the one who I feel has been wronged the most. Do you know where he is?”
I shook my head.
“You’d tell me if you did? Because I really think he needs to talk to someone. Running off and hiding from this isn’t healthy for him, Ashton.”
“No, Daddy. Beau hasn’t called me or come to see me since Sunday morning. But . . . he is back. Honey said he was back in town. He’s seen her.”
Dad nodded and rubbed his stubbly cheek, his eyes drawn into a frown. He wanted to help Beau. The idea of my dad helping Beau warmed me. I wanted to get up and throw my arms around him but I stayed put. Beau wouldn’t want his help. I wouldn’t tell him that though.
“Is he mad at you?”
I shook my head but then stopped. I wasn’t sure if he was or not. He hadn’t sought me out. He hadn’t called or texted. Maybe he was mad at me. Maybe he regretted everything.
“I want to apologize to you for the things I said about him after your Grana’s wake. I was wrong. I didn’t know him. Sawyer has enlightened me quite