“I’m sorry, sis. I tried to tell him this was wrong. I tried to talk him out of it, but he won’t listen. He’s so stubborn and he’s convinced himself that what he’s doing is right. ” He tugged at his brown hair, his eyes closing.
“Gran even tried to talk to him,” he whispered, his eyes still tight.
“What? What’d she say?”
“She told him that it doesn’t take becoming someone’s husband to become a good dad. She told him that one has nothing to do with the other. That being a dad was a choice. That anyone could father a child, but a real man chooses to be a dad. She told him that being a husband was something that should be reserved for the person you truly want to call your wife. ”
“Gran’s good. ” I couldn’t hold back a slight smile, awed at Gran’s wisdom.
“What’d he say to that?” Melissa chimed in.
“He wouldn’t listen to her, either. ” Dean’s head shook and my smile faded. “He told her that his child wouldn’t grow up in a broken home. That sometimes you have to be unselfish and compromise even if it’s not what you want because it’s not about you anymore. ”
“There’s no getting through to him. How are they doing?” I asked, referring to Gran and Gramps.
“They’re both really sad. They’re worried for him. And they’re worried about you. ” The skin around his eyes pulled tight with his stress.
I nodded, no words necessary.
“He loves you, Cassie. He doesn’t give a shit about this girl, he’s just so fucked messed up from our parents that he can’t see reason. ”
“I feel like you wouldn’t do this though, and you both grew up in the same house. ” Melissa folded her arms across her stomach.
“Yeah, but he was older so he remembers things that I don’t. He was the one who had to hold it together while our mom fell apart. He remembers the day our dad didn’t come home. Honestly, he really lost it when Mom left. He was never the same after that and he’s been fighting his demons ever since. ”
Dean shrugged, picking at the fabric of his shorts. “I never thought he’d let anyone in. We would fight like crazy about it until I realized there was no changing him. I don’t think it’s that he didn’t want someone to love him—he just didn’t want to risk loving them back. ”
He paused, exhaling through his nose. “Then you showed up and everything changed. You changed him. ”
“He changed me too. ”
“I’ll say,” Melissa added, her arms dropping to her side. “She never let anyone in either. I knew the night she saw Jack that something was different. ” Her blue eyes pierced into mine. “I could literally see it. Watching the two of you interact, it was like watching fireworks light up the night sky. You two burn brighter when you’re together. ”
“Even fireworks burn out,” I said, my voice solemn.
SEVENTEEN
The next few days were hell as the local newspapers and websites focused on the “Upcoming Nuptials of Our Very Own Jack Carter!” and “Hometown Hero Marrying Southern Sweetie!” I couldn’t escape the news. No matter what I did or where I went, his one night of screwing up was always right there, screaming in my face.
I stopped checking e-mails the day an anonymous person sent me a link that led to a picture of myself underneath a caption that read, “The girl Jack left behind. Why he’s marrying someone else. ”
And I closed my Facebook account the moment after I logged in to see over a hundred and fifty messages from my so-called “friends,” asking me if everything they were reading online was true or not.
If I didn’t rely on my cell phone to communicate with my job and my parents, I would have shut it off as well. The texts alone were a nightmare. Each time one beeped, my heart jumped. Part of me wanted the messages to be from Jack, wanting to know how much he hurt, how sorry he was, and how he wished it had never happened. But the other part of me could barely stomach it. His words were like knives in a heart already overflowing with stab wounds.
My phone rang and I looked down to see Dani–Trunk Mag flashing on the screen. I hadn’t been to the offices at Trunk since the semester began. I pressed the Answer button, resting the phone against my ear. “Hey, Dani. What’s up?”
“Hey, Cass. ” Her voice sounded cordial. “I’m really sorry about you and Jack. ”
“Thanks. ” This had become my standard response. I simply accepted people’s condolences for my now-dead-and-buried relationship and tried to move on.
“Um, I really hate you ask you this, but BC is insisting the school wants to do a follow-up feature on Jack since the draft. He says everyone and their mother has their panties in a wad and can’t read enough about him. ”
BC was the editor of the magazine. Half the time I thought he was an idiot, but his ideas usually won us awards, so I stopped questioning his ridiculous demands months ago.
“He freaked out when he looked at our collection of Jack photos. ” She snickered.
We had a collection of Jack photos.