Present Day
Early summer 2018
I've had my heart-broken three times in my life, and I'm not talking venting it out with the girls over ice cream kind of hurt. I'm talking about the soul-crushing, never wanting to get out of bed again, hurts to even breathe, kind of broken.
The first was, in some ways, the hardest, the one that never was. That never knowing thing, the what if's, it's haunting. Ironically, he's on his way over here. My dad roped him into helping me move, not he had to try very hard. He may have never been, but he always was. There, I mean, just not in the way I wanted.
Then the next one...I lied, actually. The second was the hardest, maybe because my heart was still healing from the first. The infamous one that got away. In my case, he's the one that ran away. Far, far away, and never came back. Leaving behind lifelong promises- shattered and forgotten. The damage left a gaping hole I never fully healed from.
Finally, and most recently, the one I married. At one time, he could make me melt with just his smile, and now... well... now, we can't even look at each other without scowling. I can be fair and say we broke each other's hearts, but if you ask Julian, he'll blame me. I'm the one that wanted out; therefore, I'm the one at fault, his logic, of course.
This hurt is different than the others because it's been spreading slowly, over time, eating away at us little by little. Until I ripped the Band-Aid off and ended it, now it all comes in stages, hurt, anger, relief, hope... then guilt. It's all just... a lot.
I'm standing in the center of our cookie-cutter piece of suburban pie. Well, I guess I should say the bank's little piece of pie. It was never ours, and now it's theirs again. Most couples split assets after a divorce. Julian and I split debts and had our house foreclosed on. Got to love a cherry on top of it all, right?
So, I'm moving back in with my parents and he's... I actually don't know where Julian is. Funny thing is that doesn't bug me so much anymore.
All I have left to haul out of here is a bunch of duffel bags, some hefty garbage bags jam packed with clothes and a few boxes, and once those are gone, it'll be like we were never here. I hope the next couple that walks into this picture-perfect oversized Cape Cod, with its beautiful oak floors, high ceilings, and brightly colored walls, loves it like we almost did. I hope they walk in and find themselves full of hope; that it can be the home for them, it never was for us.
I hear a loud diesel truck coming down the road, and I know it must be my ride. None of the men in this development would be allowed a truck that loud. I smirk to myself at the deafening roar as it grows closer. The neighborhood bitchy bees, as I call them, are probably already riled up. Heading to their picture windows to look out and see who dares disturb the peace. I think they secretly enjoy having things to complain about, anything they can latch their stingers onto. It's as if they live off the negative energy they create.
They have been circling me since Julian officially moved out a month ago. They come by with their wine and well wishes, but they're really looking for gossip. I can't stand any of them; I never could.
"We saw Julian leaving; how are you holding up, honey?"
"Whatever you need. Just let us know; we can only imagine how you feel."
"When Rob and I hit our rough patch, it was awful. It's too bad you and Julian weren't able to weather it like we did."
"The trouble with marrying so young is this younger generation gives up so easily. We were taught to fight."
"Ellen! I'm sure they tried. Anyway, at least you didn't have children. You still have your figure."
"Maybe if they'd had, they'd have weathered it better, though...."
"Ellen!"
"I'm just saying!"
"I'm sure his traveling was hard, a lot of lonely nights, right?"
"Did he stray? You can tell us."
"I bet they fought over having children; Kinsey you're what, thirty-two, thirty-three? You should have at least one by now."
It was somewhere around that time I got a very real migraine and didn't even need an excuse to get them to leave.
I sling a bag over my shoulder and step out just as the big red truck rolls into the driveway and pulls to a stop. And as the door opens and Hunter Wilde hops down. I know all the bitchy bees are wide-eyed and watching. They'll be buzzing about this for months.
Hunter is as tall and rugged as ever and somehow even more muscular. His inky hair is overgrown, hanging in his eyes. The scruff on his chin shows he hasn't shaved in a few days. He's wearing faded jeans that highlight how long his legs are. With it, he's got on a tight white muscle shirt that shows off both his fit chest and his muscular biceps, one of which has the name, Harley, tattooed on it, his son's name.
His cobalt eyes are full of empathy as he steps forward. He probably assumes my silence means, I'm sad about moving and everything, but that's not why.
He has no idea he still takes my goddamn breath away.
But it's not like that, I swear. I admire his looks, but my massive crush on him is in the past, sixteen years in the past, where he broke my heart. Our journey back to friendship was rocky; I won't risk it again.
"Kinsey." He holds out his arms, and I step into them. He swallows me with his solid frame, and I instantly feel warm and secure. He's always looked out for me and made me feel safe. This hasn't changed; his embrace feels soothing as he holds me against his sturdy chest. It's been a long month, since my husband left. A lot of lonely days of overthinking and long nights over-drinking. I close my eyes and take in the familiar comfort of my long-time best friend.
We stayed in touch even after I left Sweet Haven for college. I was so nervous about being away from home I called Hunter nearly every night that first year. Every weekend I came home, or he came and saw me.
Until life happened, Hunter and I each found the person we ended up marrying and saw each other less and less. Then I moved further away, and we rarely saw each other at all, aside from holidays.
Somehow though, no matter how much time passes. The moment we connect, we fall right back into step.
"You'll get through this. Leaving the house helps." His voice is low and soothing, and I find comfort there. Hunter knows more than anyone, having just gotten divorced about a year ago.
"I'm doing okay, Hunter, I promise." I pull back and offer as reassuring a look as I can muster.
"You're as beautiful as you ever were, Darlin, but I see the bags under those amber eyes of yours." A smirk lifts his lips as he takes me in. "Did you get yourself get dressed in the dark today?"
I glance down and realize I'm an exhausted liar. I'm wearing a silky teal sleeveless blouse with my baggy pink Victoria's Secret sweatpants, my old ones with a hole in the thigh. To top off the look, I have a pair of flip-flops on. That, coupled with my dark blonde being tied up in a messy and greasy bun, I probably look like a crazy person.
How did I not look in the mirror after my dad texted me that Hunter was coming instead of him? Maybe I'm not as okay as I'm trying to be.
"I was packing up the last of my closet and wanted to see if it still fit," I explain as I look down at the dressy shirt. "Then I forgot to take it off."
"No sleep last night?" He guesses in an annoyingly knowing voice. He quickly takes my bags from me as if they don't weigh a thing and tosses them into the truck's box. I can't help but notice the flex of his bicep in the glistening sun. He starts for the house, and I quickly follow to explain. I can't let him think I'm not okay. I know he's worried, but this isn't then.
"I told you, Hunter, I'm okay. I didn't get any sleep because they took the bed yesterday. I don't sleep well on the floor, and I wasn't expecting a wake-up text from my dad that you were coming. I was expecting him somewhere between ten and two, like the cable guy."
"What?" He whirls back around, and the pools of blue in his eyes flicker as they darken.
"The cable guy... like my dad, they can't manage time, so they give you a ridiculous window and show up early or late anyway."
"I know what a time window is, Kinz. He took your bed, Julian?" His lip snarls slightly at the name. Hunter never liked Julian, or anyone, I was with.
Well, except for one, but he ran away.
"Not Julian, his dad. He came with some guys and took all the furniture and appliances yesterday." I start to head in, and Hunter is hot on my heels.
"And left you with nothing?"
"It just was one night." I open a hefty bag that I shoved a bunch of clothes in, rummaging for either pants that match my shirt or a shirt that goes with the pants. I realize nothing goes with these ripped-up sweatpants and grab a pair of black leggings, shoving everything else back into the bag.
"Why didn't you call last night? I'd have scooped you up. Did you even have dinner?"
"I picked something up." A half bottle of wine I grabbed from the cabinet counts, right? Stress has me missing meals lately.
"Kinz, you don't even have a car right now," he calls my bluff.
"My dad told you all that?" I deflect as he begins gathering a few of my bags, hauling them up quickly.
"No, your mama, you know she sings after some wine." Hunter turns to glance my way as my cheeks flush. "Don't get all embarrassed. I'm squatting on your folk's land. Think I'm going to judge you?"
"You're what?" My eyes widen at that.
The very land I am moving back to live on. How is it my mama can tell Hunter every damn thing and omit this little detail from me?
"Someone bought the duplexes and gave any tenants a month to vacate. I'm staying there on their extra land in my trailer until I figure something else out."
"Everyone got kicked out? Why would someone do that? That's horrible!" I feel my blood begin to boil.
"It was just me and Tom Miller still staying in them. They'd gotten so rundown no one wanted to rent 'em anymore."
"I don't care. It's still wrong." I cross my arms over my chest.
"I tried to offer to fix 'em up so the new owner could rent 'em again, and got a polite rejection letter," Hunter scoffs.
"Who bought them, for what?"
"No idea it's some company ought of New York, I think. Bought up some stores in town this past winter, and now the duplexes. I heard a rumor that they want to make some condominiums or something."
"That's terrible. They can't do that!" I feel my stomach drop as this jarring news hits.
"It's life, sweetheart," he drawls with a sad smile. "Don't let it get you down."
"But the duplexes..."
All the memories the three of us share there...
"I know." He squeezes my shoulder. "Why don't you go shower and get changed? I'll get everything hauled out, so we can get you out of here, okay?"
"Yeah, okay." I choke back a million emotions as I duck into the bathroom to change.