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“Grab me some water while you’re in there?” she asked, and I nodded.

I went back into Abigail's backyard, skirted around the “fire pit,” and headed into her house to get her tools from the garage. I stopped by the fridge on the way back, grabbing two waters.

“Hey there,” Blair’s voice sounded from the other side of the refrigerator door.

I looked up and nudged the door shut. “Hey. Making good progress out there.”

“Yeah, thanks to you.” She squeezed my shoulder again, this time giving it a little extra massage. It seemed a bit too much touch for future in-laws. I backed away half a foot and cracked one of the bottles of water.

“You were always so good at putting things together,” she went on. “So take-charge. So responsible. Not like Donny.”

“I thought that’s what you liked about him. He’s carefree,” I said. “He wants the high life.”

“Well, yeah, but it is nice to be with a guy who will remember to book the hotel room for our wedding.”

I huffed. I guess Blair had figured it out.

Donny was my brother, so I pleaded the fifth: “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

“Uh-huh?” She nodded, a playful look on her face as she closed the distance I’d put between us. “I’m glad he forgot. Because now I get to spend more time with you, T.”

With the look in her eyes, this was definitely starting to feel off. I wished I could shut my eyes and make myself disappear, but I was afraid I’d have to get out of this conversation the old-fashioned way: deflection. “And you got to spend some time withAbigail. She’s great, isn’t she?”

Blair’s expression tightened. “She’s somethin’,” she offered, then paused. “Can I be honest with you?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“I don’t know if she’s the right girl for you, Rex.”

I glanced out the window and saw Abigail glaring at the roll of linen fabric like she wanted to kill it. She looked up at the arbor, then back at the house, and gave the roll of fabric a little kick before planting her hands on her hips like she was proud of herself. I rolled my lips inward to keep from grinning, then turned back to Blair. “What do you mean?”

Blair had a way of making you feel like you were in on a secret that only the two of you shared. It was the way she opened her wide eyes wider, or the way she leaned in, or the tenor of her voice.

Back in the day, it had made me feel special. Made me feel like I’d do anything for her. Now, it just made me feel like I was the same as the two-point-whatever million followers who fell for her schtick. She sighed and shrugged one shoulder. “It’s just that this whole time I’ve been here, I keep getting the sense that she’s kind of falling short. And she doesn’t make you very happy.”

This from the woman who made me feel like I’d never measure up just because I didn’t want a fancy life. I snorted. I’d wanted to give Blair the benefit of the doubt, but this was just uncalled for.

I looked at the woman and wondered how I’d wasted so much time with her. Was my confidence really so low that I fell for her bullshit back then? I’d actually felt good about taking care of her. I’d thought she needed me, and I’d been all toohappy to step into the role of provider, protector, and hero for her.

I’d supported her through the length of our relationship. I’d gone on late-night grocery runs when she got a craving for cookies-and-cream ice cream. I gave up holidays with my family because she insisted on staying with hers, even though they were only across town from each other. I did everything I could for her while we were together, and it still wasn’t enough.

Standing in Abigail’s kitchen, holding the only thing she’d ever asked me to get her—a bottle of water—I realized that I’d still been hanging on to some guilt about my relationship with Blair. I thought that I hadn’t been good enough for her. She needed the rising star football player. She needed the brother who was better looking, more charismatic, funnier. I just hadn’t measured up, even though I’d tried and tried and tried.

But now?

Now I saw that I’d been chasing something that didn’t exist. Nothing would be good enough for Blair. She’d take and take and take, and still want more.

But Abigail—I huffed. She’d asked more of me, but it was for my own good. She wanted me to stand up for myself. She wasn’t asking me to twist myself into knots to give her the life she wanted; Abigail was grabbing her own life with both hands, and letting me know that if I wanted to come along for the ride, I’d better buckle up and keep up, because she wasn’t going to wait for me.

I knew which one was more appealing to me right now.

I stood taller and grabbed the toolbox and waters, then stared my ex and future sister-in-law straight in the eye. “What do you know about making me happy?” As I looked down atBlair, I could see her for who she truly was: selfish and not remotely self-aware.

For the first time, I didn’t feel vaguely embarrassed that I wasn’t able to keep her; I was glad we weren’t together anymore. And for the life of me, I couldn't seem to figure out why we’d been together in the first place.

And I was really beginning to get sick of everyone ragging on Abigail. She was clever and fun and always there for people when they needed her—even if, in my case, it only started as blackmail. Abigail had made me happier in the last week than Blair ever did in the entire time we were together.

“Rex?” Abigail popped her head in the door.