Did you call in your order? Because this is a pickup line.
—CHAD Z.
I’m not sure what sound I made—a gasp, a scream, maybe—but the room went silent.
“What’s wrong?” Chris asked, suddenly beside me, his eyes concerned.
“We…” I cleared my throat. “We need to talk. Right now.”
Without another word, I took his hand and pulled him toward the front porch.
“Is everything okay?” Mama whispered as I passed her.
With a shake of my head, I pulled the door closed. It was just Chris and me now. The edges of my heart felt jagged, and it was a little hard to breathe.
Chris cupped my cheek. “What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t say it out loud, so I handed him my phone and turned away, wrapping my arms around myself. The text wasn’t long, but it packed a punch.
Dale: Tell that pretty fiancé of yours if he thinks he’s won, he hasn’t. ’Cause I know all about Eleanor Sterns and how she likes to get a little wild and crazy. I know about her little boy too. I got proof. I think there are a lot of people who’d be interested to know about Chris Sterns’ sad, drunk sister, don’t you?
As if all that wasn’t bad enough, he’d attached pictures. One of Ellie with her little boy. Another in which it appeared Ellie was sitting in a bar, drink in hand, surrounded by a group of male admirers. And yet another of Ellie with dark sunglasses, her hair messy and her clothes wrinkled, walking down a sidewalk.
Every one of those photos could be totally innocent, but taken out of context or with a media spin, most any story could be told. Ellie was already dealing with so much; she didn’t need her name out there too.
“Son of a…” Chris muttered.
I perched on the edge of the porch railing. “That’s my dad.”
Chris handed me my phone back, his jaw ticking. “It changes nothing. I’ll pay him what he wants, and he’ll be out of our lives.”
“You don’t understand.” My voice sounded strange even to my own ears. “You can try but it won’t work. He’ll always be after you.” I held up my phone. “This is the proof right here.”
“No,” he said firmly.
“Yes.” I mirrored his tone.
He planted himself in front of me, his expression earnest. “We have done all we can. If he’s never going to stop, he’s never going to stop. And if I have to go through that, put Ellie through that, I’d rather do it with you by my side.” His fingers brushed my cheek. “I’d rather do my whole life with you by my side.”
“Chris,” I whispered, my nose beginning to sting.
“We can figure this out. Together.”
It sounds so easy, so tempting. A fairy-tale ending. A happily ever after.
“You would resent me. Maybe not at first. But when, not if, my father finds a buyer, he’ll sell all the information he’s dug up on Ellie and eventually you’ll grow to resent me. If for some reason you didn’t, Ellie would and the rest of your family, too. Any life with me by your side,” my voice broke, and I swiped at the tears that had begun to fall, “would only drive a wedge between you and your family. It would break my heart twice. It—it’s not worth it. It’s just better to break this off now.”
I slipped off the railing and shimmied around him, walked to the other end of the porch to put some distance between us.
He stalked toward me. “There you go again. Martyr Mae, swooping in to sacrifice herself for everyone else. I’m a big boy; I can take care of myself. I don’t need your sacrifice. I just need you.”
“I have to do this,” I said quietly. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“It should be hard for you to walk away,” he said, suddenly inches from my face. “Because you know we belong together.”
“Life isn’t a romance novel. As much as I love to read them, they’re fiction. Happy endings don’t really exist. I will not be the reason you don’t get to do all the things you’ve worked hard for. I will not be the reason your sister’s life gets turned upside down.”
He took a step back, his eyes going sad. “You know what the real problem is. You’re scared. I understand, I do. But I am not your father, and I am not Peter.”
I rubbed my forehead, at the headache that was building, and avoided looking in his eyes. “I’m being realistic. I’m not scared.”
Terrified. Confused. Defeated. All of those things.
Chris’s head dropped. He rubbed the back of his neck. After a long moment, I saw his chest expand as he drew in a deep breath.
“Okay, okay,” he muttered, more to himself than me. He cupped my cheeks, turning my face so he could see my eyes. “I’ve done all I can do, said all I can say. I don’t know how else I can convince you. I’m not giving up on you. I just think you need time to get your head figured out. When you do, day or night, whenever, you let me know. I’ll be waiting.”
I sniffled. “What if I never get there?”
His expression turned fierce. “You will. I have faith in you, in us.” He touched his forehead to mine. “It’s going to break my heart to walk away right now.”
“I’m sorry. It’s for the best,” I said, trying to convince myself as much as I was convincing him.
He stared, his eyes roaming my face like he was memorizing it. He pressed a lingering kiss to my temple. “It’s the best for who?”
But he didn’t wait around for me to answer. He was just gone.
Which was also probably for the best, too.
