Page 60 of The Path to Loving Him
He continues to gallop like a goddamn horse, arms up and everything. “I live for it.”
I turn back to Aubree with anI told you solook.
“Well . . . just keep him in mind next time.”
“I will.” I then walk down the porch stairs and up to Mac, who is asking Wyatt to canter. “You have fun with Uncle Wyatt and Aunt Aubree tonight, okay? And no negotiating about bedtime, understood?”
“I know,” she says in that four-year-old voice that tells me she’s over the parenting and knows everything there is to know about the world.
I pick up Chewy Charles and Chewy Chondra—who are friends again—and I say, “Make sure Mac is a good listener.”
“I’m always a good listener,” she says even though that is the biggest lie of them all.
“Okay. Give me a hug.” I kneel, and she launches into my arms, squeezing me tight.
“I love you, Uncle Ry Ry.”This.This is the only good thing that came from losing Cassidy.Only this.Her unconditional, unrestricted love and affection.
I press my head against hers and say, “Love you, too, kiddo.”
When I release her, I stand and watch as she takes Wyatt’s hand and he brings her over to the car to get buckled up.
Aubree walks by with Mac’s overnight bag. “Have fun.”
“Thanks. Spoil her.”
“Always do.” Aubree winks, then she takes off as Hayes and Abel walk up with beer and pizza in hand.
“You look like shit,” Hayes says, passing by.
“Real gaunt-like,” Abel adds.
“Thanks,” I say sarcastically as I follow them into the house.
They pause in the entry, and both look around. They take in the fully packed boxes, the askew furniture that isn’t entirely in place, and the empty, barren walls.
“What the hell have you been doing?” Abel asks. “It doesn’t even look like anything has changed since you moved in.”
“Not true,” Hayes says as he points at an empty box that’s tipped over and being used as a barn for the Chewys. “That box of blankets is empty.”
“I haven’t had time or energy to do anything with the house just yet. I have to give it some thought as to what I want to do first.”
“Yeah, making yourself a vision board?” Abel asks as we head into the kitchen, where we put the pizza and beer on the table. I grab a roll of paper towels and toss them beside the food as we all take a seat.
Hayes flips open the pizza box and starts handing out giant slices to everyone.
If you had told me a year ago that I would be sitting at a kitchen table with Abel and Hayes, sharing a pizza amicably, I would have told you, you’d lost your goddamn mind. When wewere younger, Hayes and I were best friends. Inseparable. Along with Abel, we did everything together.
But when I went off to try my shot at the big leagues, my girlfriend, Samantha, who I left behind, got pregnant. She told me Hayes was the father. And that effectively ended our friendship. It wasn’t until a few months ago that I found out the truth. Hayes wasn’t the father, but another guy named Nick. Hayes never cleared the air because he thought if I could believe he’d do that to me, then I didn’t deserve the truth.
The only reason we’re friends now is because he fell in love with my sister Hattie.
But now that he’s back in my life, I’ve never been more grateful for a friend. He’s the same guy he was over a decade ago. Loyal, trusting, and passionate about the things he loves, my sister being one of them.
“So . . . are you making a vision board?” Abel asks, really pressing.
“I barely have time to make my own bed, do you think I have time for a vision board?” I ask as I open my beer and take a drink.
Hayes settles for a soda from my fridge, probably acting as the DD for Abel. I know he used to drink a lot—more than he probably cares to admit—but ever since he’s been with Hattie, that’s changed. He’s found his groove again with his music. He’s happier, lighter, and fun to be around when he’s not jabbing me with playful insults.
