Page 35 of That One Night (The Heartbreak Brothers Next Generation #4)

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

“What a dick,” Maisie said the next morning, after Emery told her everything that had happened in the past few days. “Actually, scratch that. What dicks, because it sounds like the two of them are as bad as the other.”

Emery had spent most of last night lying on her bed, wide awake and staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Only a few days ago she’d been on top of the world. Taking control of her life. Moving forward.

And now she felt like she was stuck. More than that, she felt rejected.

Like she wasn’t good enough to fight for. And that hurt really bad.

Tears pooled in her eyes and she tried to blink them away, because she was already sick of crying. She’d spent last night boomeranging between anger and despair, trying to cry quietly so her mom wouldn’t hear.

This morning she just felt wrung out. She had no energy, no push. She wanted to lie on this bed forever.

“So when are you going to tell Trenton you’re not going to his parents?” Maisie asked her.

“I’m not. I’ve decided to go.”

“What?” Maisie sounded appalled. “Why would you do anything that asshole asks you to do?”

“I’m not doing it for him. I’m doing it for me.

I figure that if I’m there, he’ll actually tell them.

And this way I can make sure he doesn’t lay all the blame at my feet.

” Because the one thing she knew was that Trenton was a coward at heart.

He didn’t like upsetting the status quo and he hated emotions.

And now she’d discovered that Hendrix was just as much of a coward. And that was like a knife to her heart.

“I’m going to go, watch him tell his parents, then make sure he signs off the lien. That way I know everything is done. I can move forward, get this house sold and then come back to work.”

“I wish I was there to help,” Maisie told her.

“You’ll be home soon.” That was the one bright light in the darkness.

“I can’t wait to see you.” Maisie took a long breath. “I’m sorry, too, though.”

“What do you have to be sorry about?”

“I wish I’d never given you that list. Then you wouldn’t be going through this.” Maisie sighed.

“I’m glad you gave me the list. It made me feel… I don’t know… alive. Like I’m finally able to take control of my future.” Emery swallowed down the anxiety she felt about what that future would look like. Yes, right now she was in a bad way. But she still had hope.

That was something, wasn’t it?

“Anyway, I never did complete the list,” Emery reminded her.

“When I get home we are definitely staying up all night talking,” Maisie promised her. “Just not on a school night. Listen, I have to go. Call me once everything is done with Trenton. Let me know if you need me to come and chop his balls off.”

“I will.” Not the ball-chopping part, though. Truth was, she’d been over wishing him pain for a while. She was over him .

The man living in the farmhouse opposite her mom’s, though? She wasn’t sure she’d be over him for a long, long time.

And that hurt more than she could say.

Two days. That’s how long it had been since he’d told Emery it was over. A couple of times he’d seen her in her front yard, collecting eggs or making phone calls. But as soon as she’d seen him looking, she’d turned away, refusing to meet his gaze, let alone return the wave he’d give her.

He’d done the right thing. He knew that much. His chest felt tight at the way she’d looked so broken when he’d ended it. But she would have been more broken if her ex had done what he threatened and never signed off the lien.

Or if he’d spread the kind of gossip that Hendrix knew he could. The type that would paint Emery as a cheater and make everybody in town treat her differently.

He knew what it felt like for everybody to assume the worst of you. He’d learned how to deal with it. But Emery? She never could.

And she shouldn’t have to.

Maybe that’s why he wasn’t prepared to see her out on the lane when he rode home from work. She must have been taking a walk, because she was in the middle of the rocky, white road, wearing a pair of shorts and a tank, her hair tied back in a bun.

He came to a stop, his chest feeling tight at the sight of her. There was no smile on her face, no life in her eyes.

You did that.

He hated the way she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“How are you?” he asked her softly, putting his foot down on the road to balance himself. He didn’t bother getting off the bike. She looked like she was ready to run away from him, anyway.

Can you blame her?

No, he couldn’t. He’d spent a lifetime running away from himself, after all.

“Fine.” She nodded, keeping her chin high. “You?”

Feeling like shit without you. “All good. We finished the sweetcorn harvest.” And it had been backbreaking work. Like he’d promised his uncle, he’d gotten there earlier than anybody else, and worked after the rest of the farmhands had gone home every evening.

If he was honest, it was mostly to avoid coming home and having to sit in his empty house, missing her.

“How’s the sale going?” he asked her. After he sent the message to Trenton, he’d gotten a reply the next day.

I’ll keep my end of the deal. – Montclair

“It’s fine. We’ve had a few people interested. It’ll be easier once the lien is removed this weekend.”

“It’s being taken care of?” Dammit, he had to go there. He couldn’t stop himself. Yes, he’d pulled away but he still wanted to know everything about this woman.

“Do you care?” she asked him. She was so clearly trying not to let him see she was hurt.

And it was killing him. He wished she’d just shout at him, rip into him about how much of an ass he was.

All those things he could take. Hell, he could secretly seethe because he was doing this for her own good. For his mom’s good.

And yes, he was playing the martyr, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t be responsible for them losing to that asshole.

But the way this woman was keeping her pride? That was like torture.

“Of course I care,” he told her.

“Because you want me to leave?” she asked.

“That’ll make things easier for you, won’t it?

When you won’t have to look out of your window and see me.

” She let out a long breath, not meeting his eye.

“Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m taking care of everything.

As soon as I meet with Trenton’s parents and get that lien removed, I’m packing my things and getting out of here. ”

Wait. What? “You’re meeting with Trenton’s parents?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“Why?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Excuse me, I don’t know if you got the memo, but once you end things with a woman you don’t get to ask them questions anymore.”

“I still care about you,” he told her, his voice low.

“Oh, no.” She shook her head wildly. “You don’t get to play that card. You don’t get to pretend you care when you broke my damn heart into tiny pieces just days ago.” Her voice cracked, and it killed him. “Now excuse me, I have things to do. And they don’t involve looking backward.”

She turned to walk away, but he couldn’t let her. He couldn’t let this be it. There was no way he could make things better, he knew that. Not without making things worse for her. But it still killed him to see her like this.

He reached for her arm, shocked as ever at the softness of her skin. Her wrist was warm from the sun’s rays, but so damn delicate he could more than circle it with his fingers.

“Emery…”

“What?” She lifted her eyes to him. He could see the tears reflecting there.

Tears he’d caused.

“I just… I want you to be happy. That’s all. You’re a good person. You deserve that.”

She wrenched her wrist away from him. “But clearly not good enough,” she told him before she walked away, leaving him standing in the dusty lane, wishing he knew how to make things right.

“Is there something wrong with your phone?” Pres asked him, as Hendrix climbed off his motorcycle.

It was Friday evening and he was beyond exhausted.

He’d been starting work right after dawn and had stayed in the fields long after all the other workers had left for the evening.

In the end his uncle had chased him out, telling him in no uncertain terms it was time to leave the bailing alone.

But home was the one place he didn’t want to be.

Especially not when his brother was outside his cottage waiting for him, having let himself inside to grab a beer. Pres had made himself completely at home. He was sitting on the porch, Frank curled up at his feet, like he was settling in for the long haul.

“I’ve been busy.” Hendrix walked up the steps. Frank stood to greet him, nuzzling his chest.

“Just a quick message to let us know you’re alive would have helped,” Pres told him.

Stroking Frank’s maw, Hendrix looked at his brother. “It’s harvest time,” he pointed out. “Do I bother you when you’re neck deep in construction work? And anyway, you know I’m alive. Uncle Logan would have told you if I wasn’t.”

Pres sighed. “Okay, so mom sent me over.”

And there it was, the crux of the matter. “You can tell her I’m fine.”

“But you’re not. And she needs some papers signed for the charity.”

“What kind of papers?”

Pres rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, man.

Maybe if you answered her damn calls you’d know.

” His brother stood and looked Hendrix right in the eye.

“What’s with this stupid rollercoaster, anyway?

You’ve been fine for weeks. More than fine, happy.

Now you’re doing your usual bullshit and disappearing in full sight. ”

“I’m working,” Hendrix snipped back, annoyance rushing through him. “I told you that.”

“And I wouldn’t care if you were just ignoring me. But mom? That’s a low blow, even for you.” Pres shook his head. “You’re a real asshole sometimes.”

Hendrix’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously?” His brother had no idea what he was going through. With his perfect wife and beautiful kids, why would he?

But to accuse him of trying to hurt their mom when all he was trying to do was protect her? Well, fuck that.

“Just call her.” Pres looked him straight in the eye.

“Since when do you get off telling me what to do?” Hendrix asked him.

“I’ll stop when you start doing the right thing.” Pres shook his head.

The problem was, he was doing exactly that. He’d just never expected to feel so bad about it. Hendrix let out a deep sigh. He didn’t need this from his brother, not now.

“Shit, man, what’s going on with you?” Pres asked him. “You look… I don’t know… beaten.”

“Nothing. There’s nothing going on with me.” Automatically, Hendrix glanced across the road. He hadn’t seen Emery since she walked away crying from him two days earlier. He’d made sure of it. Leaving early, arriving home late, locking himself up in between. This wasn’t living, this was surviving.

It was enduring the worst days of his life. Bar none.

Pres let out a breath. “I’m not the best at talking… and absolutely not the best at giving advice.”

“Then don’t.”

Pres put his hand up. “But I’m gonna do it, anyway. Because you’re my little brother and I love you. But also because Mom worries about you way too much, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make her life easier.”

“Would you give up everything to make her life easier?” Hendrix asked him suddenly.

Pres blinked at his question. “I… ah…” He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”

“Let me put it this way. Would you give up everything to make Delilah’s life easier?”

Pres frowned. “Of course I would. You know that.”

“Then don’t question me about what I’d do for Mom. I’d do anything, you know that, right?”

Pres stared at him for a long minute. “Is there something I’m missing?”

The door to Emery’s mom’s farmhouse opened, and Emery stepped out.

Seeing her for the first time in a couple of days felt like a size ten work boot to his gut.

She stopped suddenly, seeing Hendrix and his brother on his porch, then turned on her heel and walked back inside, closing the door behind her.

For a second Pres was silent. It was clear he’d seen her from the expression on his face.

He looked at Hendrix, then back at Emery’s house.

“Is there something going on between you two?” he asked Hendrix.

Hendrix swallowed. “No.”

But Pres wasn’t buying it. “She walked outside then walked right back in when she saw you. I’ve never seen anything quite so obvious.”

“There’s nothing going on,” Hendrix said stubbornly.

“But there was, huh?”

He opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

“Wasn’t there?” Pres asked.

“It’s complicated,” Hendrix told him.

“How complicated?”

“The kind of complicated where I don’t even know where to start,” Hendrix told him, a wave of dizziness washing over him. “And I’m so damn tired. I haven’t slept in days. I haven’t done anything but work in the fields and if I don’t get inside and lie down I think I might collapse.”

Pres stared at him. “Okay. Go inside and get some sleep. But come to Mom’s tomorrow. You can sign those papers. We can talk.” His brother’s voice was soft, for once. And yeah, maybe that’s what he needed.

A friend. A brother. Somebody who understood that he’d given up the one woman he loved to make sure she and his mom had the future they deserved.