Page 46 of Moonshine and Magnolias (Just Add Peaches #1)

But Brandi didn’t. Her foot bounced up and down and she rested her chin on her palm, elbow on the side of the sofa.

Her eyes skimmed over Wendy, who was trying hard to remain passive under the scrutiny.

A tiny part of her didn’t want to move to another task.

It was still focused on Rob. Maybe she needed to spill, as Brandi put it.

“Did you miss him when he left?” Brandi asked.

Every damn minute. “Who?”

Brandi snorted. “Being coy is definitely not your strong suit. Don’t even pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about.”

“That would be like missing your pet piranha that ate the family dog.” Wendy’s throat clogged up as soon as the words left her mouth, accompanied by a wetness in her eyes that wasn’t quite tears. Continuing the conversation became difficult, so she shrugged to mask the struggle.

Brandi hugged a gold throw pillow to her chest. “I know it’s hard for you.

Thinking about it, talking about it. About him.

But you know what’s worse? It’s been three weeks, Wendy, and you’ve kept it all inside.

Like you did when Grandma died. Scream or cry or yell about how much of a dick he is. But do something.”

The knowledge in her voice made Wendy think this wasn’t her first at bat. “What’s the point? I let my emotions guide me, and look at what happened.”

“One out doesn’t mean the whole game is doomed. Not with a killer pitcher on the mound.”

Wendy paused. “I think you mean the reverse.”

Her cousin waved her hand. “Whatever. I’ve always let my emotions guide me and I’m in the same dugout as you. Alone. There’s got to be a happy medium in there somewhere. Maybe we can find it together.”

Now the sob came for real as a cavern opened in her chest. There was no hiding this, not with tears slipping down her face too fast for her to rein them in.

“I hurt,” she gulped. “I trusted him and now I hurt. So much.” Pain replaced the emptiness inside her, tightening her chest and making it difficult to grab a full breath.

She rubbed at it as if that would make it disappear.

The emptiness was so much better than pain.

Brandi wiggled herself next to Wendy in the oversized chair and put her arm around her cousin’s shoulders. “I know, honey.”

Now that she had started, she couldn’t stop. “I don’t like feeling this way.”

“No one does.” Brandi’s hand moved in slow circles on her back.

“Then why put myself through it again? Why? Why leave myself open for this kind of heartache?” What surprised her most is that she really wanted to know the answer. Something to hold onto to give her hope for a future filled with love instead of nothing.

“You can’t tell me you were happy before. You weren’t living. You were hiding. ”

“I was happy!” Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie.

“You might have convinced yourself of that. But we’re being honest now. What you were was noncombative.”

Brandi was right. Suppressing her feelings had been a mistake, one Wendy might soon be able to admit to out loud.

The truth eased some of the tightness in her belly.

She leaned back in the chair and traced the paisley pattern in the upholstery, embarrassed and afraid to confess it all.

What would Brandi think of what had happened?

“Rob did more than lie to me, you know. He manipulated me. He knew exactly what to say to me to get me to do what he wanted.”

Brandi pressed her lips together, her eyes studying Wendy’s face. When she spoke, the words came out slowly, carefully. “Did you ever think maybe he knew what to say to you because it’s what he wanted to say to you?”

“No.” It was that simple. Except for when it wasn’t. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sure he had a purpose when he volunteered to do the tours and stuff, but it evolved, Wendy. Into something more.” Brandi covered Wendy’s hand with her own. “Geez, I could tell just by looking at him.”

“He let me think I had cured him of impotency. How’s that for manipulative?”

“I’d say pretty good. That’s one I hadn’t heard before.”

Wendy laughed in spite of herself. “I bet you’ve heard a lot.”

“I have. Which is why I’m still thinking he was sincere. At least, eventually.”

“I don’t know.” Wendy sighed and picked up the stashed manila envelope, then tapped it against her knee. Something small and hard rattled against her thigh. So it contained more than a letter. “If this was you, I’d be all over you for even considering talking to him again.”

“I know. So it’s a good thing I’m not you.”

“He lied to me, Brandi. Used me. Used all of us.” The words were out of her mouth before she thought to hold them back and she held up the envelope. “Why am I even considering reading this?”

“That’s something you have to ask yourself.”

Wendy flopped back in her chair. “I’m pathetic. ”

“No, you’re not.”

She knew her world was turning upside down when her cousin’s words were cause for introspection.

She didn’t make eye contact for fear of seeing horror on Brandi’s face with what she said next.

“I want to see if maybe even a little of what we had was real. He changed my whole life, and in only a month. A month! My way of thinking, which seemed so logical, my way of living, which was so safe.” She drew in a deep breath.

“If it was all a lie, if it was because I was vulnerable…”

Her cousin said nothing, only held Wendy’s hand.

“So what do I do?”

“Only you can answer that. Don’t think, just speak. What do you want to do?”

If Wendy voiced her thoughts, she’d have to act. There’d be no going back. She closed her eyes and spoke before she could stop herself.

“I want to read the letter.”