Page 44 of Let It Breathe (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #1)

He reached into his leather satchel and pulled out a picture frame that was tarnished around the edges. He looked at it for a moment before passing it to Reese with uncharacteristic reverence.

“See that?” Axl said, stabbing at the photo with one finger. “That’s me and your grandma at our twentieth anniversary party.”

Reese looked at the photograph, pretty sure it was illegal in most states for a granddaughter to see her grandparents in such a state.

“You had your twentieth anniversary party at a nudist resort?” she asked at last.

“Happiest time of my life,” Axl said. “She was a good woman, your grandma.”

Reese frowned. “I thought you called her a no-good, cheating, skanky excuse for a?—”

“I was just mad,” Axl interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “That was after she ran off with Floyd and things were a little rocky, you know what I’m saying?”

“Sure.”

“But up until then, we had it pretty good. Man, we had such good times when we were first married. The date nights and the swingers clubs and the?—”

“Um, Axl? I don’t know that I need to hear all this.”

Axl glared. “My point is this, Peanut Butter Cup—your grandma and me, we had a damn good marriage.”

Reese couldn’t help it. She felt her eyebrow rise with a skepticism she couldn’t hide. She half expected Axl to curse her out, but he just shook his head.

“People’s marriages aren’t always what you think they are,” he said. “Sometimes the ones that look shitty on the surface have a lot of good stuff underneath. Nice stuff. Stuff that keeps you together and happy and doing the dirty every day for thirty-three years.”

“Axl, I don’t?—”

“Shut up. Let me finish.”

He folded his arms over his chest, looking unusually serious. Reese sat up a little straighter, the photo still gripped in her hand.

“Sometimes the marriages that seem perfect—well, they’re not,” Axl said. “That doesn’t mean they’re bad, or that they won’t work out. It just means some folks are better at hiding stuff than others. Some people have to work harder than others, you feel me?”

Reese frowned and handed the photo back. “I guess so.”

Axl took the photo and brought it up to his mouth, huffing a steamy breath on it and polishing the glass with his sleeve before shoving it back into the knapsack.

Then he looked at Reese again. “I’m just trying to tell you that no one really knows what goes on in other people’s houses, so they sure as shit can’t judge themselves by the same goddamn standards.”

Reese frowned. “Fine, but I’m not sure what this has to do with me.”

Axl shook his head and smacked Reese on the knee. “For a smart girl, you can be pretty dense.”

She sighed. “This outpouring of grandfatherly affection is unsettling.”

Axl ignored her, intent on digging in his knapsack again. This time, he pulled out a green folder. He held it on his lap for a moment, studying it before turning to Reese.

“This is the other thing I’ve gotta show you.” He pushed it toward her, and Reese found herself taking it, not sure what she was being offered. “Careful with this, now. Your mom would shit a brick if she ever knew I borrowed it, so don’t crease it or anything.”

Something in her grandfather’s voice made Reese’s pulse kick up a notch. She studied the folder, the kind with little hooks on the ends to hang in a file cabinet. Frowning, she touched the edge of it, still not daring to crack it open. “Where did you get this?”

“Picked the lock on your parents’ file cabinet. I always knew it was in there but never had a reason to go looking before now.”

“Axl, I don’t know if we should?—”

“Open the fucking thing!”

Reese shut her mouth and flipped open the file.

A single sheet of paper rested there. Reese stared at it, not understanding the words at first. The instant it began to make sense, Reese felt her skin go cold.

“Divorce decree,” she read aloud. She peered closer, the words tumbling at her in a confusing succession of dark ink and legal language. Her stomach twisted itself into a knot. She stared at the date, at the names on the paper, at the stamp in the corner.

Then she shut the folder and set it on the coffee table, her hand shaking as she drew it back.

“I don’t understand,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to look her grandfather in the eye. “When did my parents get divorced?”

“About six months after you were born,” Axl replied. “Things were pretty rough around here, what with the vineyard just getting up and running and your parents being newlyweds and all, and with a brand-new baby to take care of—well, they just sort of cracked.”

Reese nodded, not even sure what she should be asking. “How long—I mean, are they still?—”

“No,” he said. “They got back together about a year later. You were too little to remember. They both dated a few other people, and then they went through a bunch of marriage counseling crap. After a while, they figured out a way to make things work. Been going strong ever since, but you know that.”

Reese swallowed and looked down at her hands. “I don’t understand.”

“Why I showed it to you or why it happened in the first place?”

“Both, I guess. I just thought?—”

“You thought your folks had the perfect marriage from the get-go. Perfect soulmates forever, with no effort required,” Axl said.

“I guess.” her voice sounded soft and far away.

“Right, but see, that’s not true.” Axl studied her face. “And you thought your grandma and me were a train wreck.”

She nodded and looked up, finally willing to meet her grandfather’s eye. “That’s not true, either.”

“No.”

Reese nodded. “So what is true?”

Axl snorted. “Lookie here, you’re turning to me for the truth now?

Let me tell you, Peanut Butter Cup—relationships aren’t as simple as you think they are.

You’ve spent your whole life trying not to end up like me and your grandma, or thinking there’s no way you could have what your parents do.

And the thing is, you’re right on both counts.

No matter who the hell you end up with, it’ll never be just like what someone else got. ”

Reese opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. She had no earthly idea what to say. She was saved from saying anything by a familiar quacking sound from the end of the coffee table. She glanced at her iPhone, not sure she wanted to answer.

“I’ll ignore it,” she decided.

Axl scowled and nudged the phone with the toe of his Doc Marten. “Ain’t you gonna see who it is?”

Reese picked up the phone and flipped it over. Her stomach flipped, too. “Clay.

Her grandfather nodded. “Answer it.”

“I don’t think?—”

“Answer the fucking thing,” he barked. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve been saying, girlie?”

“Axl, I’m not ready?—”

“Answer the goddamn phone!”

Reese hesitated, her hand shaking a little. She hit the button and held the phone to her ear. “Clay, I’m sorry, now isn’t a good time to discuss?—”

“Reese, stop talking,” he said. “Right now, I have something to tell you.”