Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Ohhhh.” He laughs again and it’s a hearty one. All deep and rumbly like thunder. “Is that what that was?”
“Yeah. One night a year I get to be a trollop.”
“Ya know, we didn’t—”
“I know. I woke up with my boots on, Collin Creed. To say that I was disappointed would be an understatement.”
For the third time, I delight him. He leans back in his chair, making it creak. “I would like to go on record—”
“You do that.”
“—and I would like to say that the men of the Revival have officially missed their chance.”
“Is that right.”
He nods. Slowly. Eyes stuck on mine. “That is a fact.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“No ex-wife anywhere?” I ask. He chuckles and looks away. “Holy shit, Collin Creed, you were married.”
He lets out a breath between his teeth. “Almost. Like…” He holds his thumb and forefinger together with the teensiest bit of space between them. “This close.”
“What happened? Runaway bride?”
“Nah. Nothing so dramatic. Well, that’s not true, I guess. When you call off a wedding, it’s always dramatic.”
He and I lock eyes as I slowly nod my head. “Yep.”
“So. I guess I got cold feet.” He’s still looking at me when he says this. Then he turns his head. “That’s not true, either.” He looks back at me. “You might be the only person I’ve ever admitted this to, but I just didn’t love her. Not enough to marry her. Ya know, maybe I’m old-fashioned about this shit, or, I dunno, maybe I’ve been to one too many Revivals. But I don’t wanna get divorced, ya know? I want it to be the way it was meant to be. Forever. And I knew that she and I were never gonna make it to forever.”
“Well, you must’ve felt somethin’ for her. Or why were you engaged?”
Collin just shrugs. “Well… I thought we were friends.” His eyes narrow a little. “And I thought friends would be enough. And maybe it would’ve been. But then I realized she and I weren’t friends. She was, pardon my language, a fuck buddy.” He shrugs again. “I dunno, Lowyn. I just made a mistake. I think that’s all there is to it. I thought I wanted something, but it turned out I didn’t.”
“Was she crushed?”
“Maybe? A little? And that’s part of the problem too. She married one of my friends about three years later.”
“Ouch.”
“Whatever. Good for them. I sent them a subscription to the Beer of the Month Club so every thirty days or so they could toast their future, or, alternatively, wallow in their mistakes.”
I smile. Then giggle. Then take a sip of wine.
“You do look good, Lowyn. I know I told you that the other night, but I’m not sure you remember the other night.”
“I saw some video. Taylor Hill sent it to Bryn.”
“Busybodies.”
“Shit, Collin. You know how this place is.” I make a yapping bird-beak with my fingers. “Gossip, gossip, gossip. I mean, the way you left… and the rumors that came after… I think people are surprised that you came home. And maybe you don’t believe it, but I think they are relieved too.”
“Why the hell would they be relieved?”
“Well, no town likes to lose people. Not towns like ours. There’s no rule that everyone has to stay, of course. There’s not even an expectation, really. Look at Clover and her family. But you were different. You know that, right?”
He lets out a breath and looks over my shoulder, eyes watching things distant to me. When his attention shifts back, he’s gone very serious. “I…” And that’s all he can get out.
I put up a hand after a few awkward seconds. “I was there, Collin. I know.”
“But… what do you know, Lowyn?”
“That you were scared. That all three of us were scared. And then, when he—when that guy—when he surrendered and let Olive go, you were pissed. And you took that shot because that’s what happens to assholes who come into your house and fuck with your people.”
He blinks. Purses his lips a little. “I would like to deny that. I would like to say my finger slipped. But you’re right. And you have no idea”—he pauses to look deep into my eyes—“no idea at all, how much that night changed me.”
I’m shaking my head. “It didn’t change you, Collin. It just… revealed you.”
He guffaws and leans back in his chair. “Is that an insult or a compliment?”
“Neither. Both. It doesn’t matter. You wanna hear my confession now?”
He nods without saying anything.
“I’m single because you ruined me that night.” He looks shocked. But I put up a hand. “You see…” I have to pause here to think about how to say this. How to explain it. “You didn’t even hesitate, Collin. If you had seen it from my perspective—you didn’t waste a single second. You got the rifle, told me to stay put, went into the hallway, and two seconds later, it was handled. Two seconds. That’s how long I was afraid. Two. Seconds. That man, he had a gun on him. If you had hesitated things could’ve turned out very different. You could’ve been the dead one. Olive could’ve been the dead one. I could’ve been the dead one. Everyone knew that, Collin. And if you think the sheriff didn’t know that maybe you acted too quickly, too efficiently, well, he did. He asked me. He came over every couple of months, even after you left, to ask me questions.”