The laughter comes easier this time, the emotional burden of the moment lightened by this man, who’s such a mixture of contradictions and turned out to be so much more than what I ever expected him to be for Rylee. And it was exactly what she needed.
“Should I leave?” I ask, feigning like I’m going to get up from my chair as Colton skirts around the island and grabs a beer from the refrigerator. “I know you newlyweds need your privacy and all.”
A blind man couldn’t miss the quick look between them, which has Rylee’s cheeks flushing and my mind whirling about what they got up to somewhere without privacy on their honeymoon. And my heart swells with love for the two of them. After everything they went through, they deserve all of the happiness in the world.
The distinct sound of Colton popping off the top of his bottle interrupts the momentary awkwardness of the moment, and he flashes me another of his megawatt smiles. “I’m sure you’ll get the blow-by-blow, pun intended,” he teases, “when I leave.” He laughs as he grabs a carrot from the cutting board and just shakes his head as he walks toward the patio door.
I glance over at Rylee with my eyebrows raised, silently telling her I want details when she just blushes and tries to deflect my thinking.
“What time are the guys gettin
g here?” she calls to Colton.
He glances over to the clock on the wall. “Like, thirty minutes. Throw a couple extra in there just in case, okay?”
“Sure. I’ll have the burgers ready by then.”
“No worries. Thanks, hon,” he says, starting to walk away as we both stare in admiration of his absolute male perfection.
The question is on my lips when I look over at Rylee, but she answers it before I can get it out. “Nope,” she smirks, “it never gets old looking at him.” We both laugh for a moment before the solemn silence falls over us once again. I know Ry’s not going to let this go easily.
And all of a sudden, the idea strikes me that this is all a setup. That Rylee and Colton have arranged this barbecue to fix this once and for all, even though she told me Becks had other obligations today. I start to panic momentarily about being forced to see him when I realize that it can’t be a setup because she didn’t know about Becks until a few moments ago.
Well, unless Becks said something to Colton. I stare at her and decide, Fuck it. “Is this all a setup?”
“What?” Rylee’s head whips up, confusion on her face until it dawns on her what I’m asking. Then she starts laughing out loud. “You’re really that paranoid about seeing him that you think I’m planning a fake barbecue to set the two of you up when I didn’t even know there was a two of you? Um, he is getting to you, isn’t he?”
Crap. Did I really just give her an in to delve further? For fuck’s sake. I sigh and glance outside to where I hear Colton whistling to Baxter, his dog, while I wait for her to continue.
“So, what now, Haddie? What’s your plan? You like him, rage on him, but sneak out after sex? I mean, I don’t know why the hell he’s calling you because most guys would tell you to take a long walk off a short pier”—she keeps her head down, focused on the cutting board so that I can stick my tongue out at her and roll my eyes—“and your silence speaks for itself.”
“It’s not fair to get involved with someone when tomorrow could change everything.” My thoughts flash to Danny and Maddie, then to my own unanswered biopsy results, and I just can’t fathom doing that to someone else.
“Don’t you think that’s his decision to make? Why do you get to hold all the cards?” She finally looks up and raises her eyebrows at me.
I think of how I’d never been around someone dying before my sister. How I would’ve never expected there to be so much pressure on Lex to try to soothe the aftermath before the inevitable happened. And I think of how I hope for her sake she had no clue how devastated we all were when she was gone. How heartbroken we still are. My tumbling thoughts reinforce my resolve.
“I hold the cards because it’s on me, Ry. How selfish does that make me to let us have a chance at more? Love me, and oh, by the way, I’m so fucked in the head right now it took me three months to take the test that’s going to tell me whether or not I’m gonna get breast cancer and die in the next five years?” I stand up abruptly and walk toward the window, my restless thoughts affecting my nerves. I know she thinks I’m being melodramatic. Hell, I know I’m being over-the-top, but my undecided fate is feeding my angst. I focus on the beach for a moment, the crash of the waves a calming sight before I finish my thoughts aloud. “I mean, that’s just bullshit on my part. Selfish.”
I hear the clatter of the knife on the granite behind me and then the thump of the towel as she throws it down. “Cut the crap, Montgomery. If I hear you say that you’re going to die again, I’m going to strangle you and make it happen myself.” I remain looking at the view and ignore her. “I’ve stood by for six months, watching you grieve, but you know what? I’m not going to stand by for another six months while you piss away a chance at living because you’re so focused on the off chance of dying. You’re being ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” I’m so primed right now for a fight. After talking to Rylee, all of the guilt I’ve felt over ditching Becks without so much as a good-bye or a thank-you has been exacerbated by hearing her agree with my conscience, which I’ve been shoving down and ignoring. I turn around to face her.
“Yeah, Haddie, ridiculous, stupid, stubborn—you pick the adjective. You took the test, you’ll get the results, and they’ll be negative.”
“And if they’re not?” My voice sounds so shaky compared to the implacability in her tone because the results she’s talking about and the ones I’m referring to are two different ones.
“If they’re not, then we deal with it! Lexi lost the fight, but hell, Haddie, you’re just being disrespectful if you ignore the thousands of others who didn’t. You could step off the curb tomorrow and get hit by a Mack Truck. Should that stop you from living today?”
“It’s not quite the same thing.” I refute her just because I don’t want to agree with her logic. Yeah, I know it makes me a bitch, but I hate how everything inside me right now feels like a washing machine on the spin cycle. I’m just worried that when the spinning stops, there won’t be much left of anything to make sense of.
“Isn’t it, though?” She just continues to stare me down, our eyes locked, her need to nurture and comfort in full force until I avert my gaze back to the patio, where Baxter is thumping his tail.
“I can’t ask someone to stand by me if I know in the long run the pain it will bring them.” My voice is barely a whisper as I say the one thing I haven’t ever spoken aloud. “I mean, mastectomies and chemo and … it’s just a horrible process….” The words choke in my throat as she places her arms around my shoulders and hugs me from behind.
Her touch makes me want to break down and confess it all. Use her strength to be the foundation for mine, but I can’t worry her unnecessarily when there is nothing to worry about yet except for my own voices in my head being pessimistic.
“I know it is. You took the test. That’s a big step for you. We’ll wait to see what the results say and go from there. In the meantime, you have to figure out what to do or say to Becks because he doesn’t deserve to be left hanging. If you like him and he likes you, I don’t see what the problem is.”