“Gracie can’t live on her own,” I defend, remembering what Owen told me when he threatened to move out himself. “I can’t leave her alone.”
Kate snorts with a heavy roll of her eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m your girlfriend, right goddamn now. I live alone. How come you’re okay with me being alone and not her?”
I don’t answer. I can’t answer her. I want to, but I just can’t. I know she has a point, but she won’t understand how fragile Gracie is compared to her.
“I’m your girlfriend!” Kate screams.
I stand up as the tears flood her eyes and race down her cheeks. I reach out, wiping them, and she moves back quickly.
“I’m your girlfriend,” she repeats. “Not Gracie. Ever since she came to live here, you act like she’s your fucking girlfriend instead of me. It’s not right at all, Devon.”
I know she’s right. I’m supposed to have moved on from Gracie. But our kiss lingers in my mind. Desperation to be with one another had been there, burning white-hot. I felt it, and I know she felt it too. But it can never happen again. Not unless I’m single and she walks away from whatever is going on with her and the diner boy. I’m also smart enough to know it isn’t a good idea. It can’t be. Because last time we tried for about the fifth time, she took off and sold my mom’s engagement ring for fucking drugs.
“Has Donna told you about the couple’s retreat?” I ask, trying to think things through, but everything is so muddled in my mind.
I don’t like feeling out of control. I like control. I need control.
“Yes, and we’re going, right?”
I nod, and the words leave my lips before I can stop them, desperation to keep from losing control. “Then we can get married.”
“Married?” she squeaks, her eyes widening, the corners of her lips curling up into a smile.
Why the fuck did I say that?
“Really?” She clasps her hands together and bounces on her heels, exhaustion forgotten, for the moment.
My stomach tightens. I feel like I’ve just made a mistake, but now I have to push forward. I’m an idiot. “Yes, married. We can get married. It’s like you said, I need to get over Gracie. We can get a small apartment together, or I’ll move in with you, whatever.”
It isn’t a lie, not really. She is right. I have to move on. I have to make a life for myself and not forever be hung up on Gracie. I’m smart enough to know that. So why does it still hurt to think of leaving Gracie completely behind? Because I know once I marry Kate, I’ll have to cut ties with Gracie and in doing that, her family. My second family. Being around them is just the same as being around Gracie, and it won’t be good for me.
I’m only offering to marry Kate to forget about being in love with Gracie. To move forward, to move on with my life. I know that’s the best thing for me, and marriage might be the best option at this point. It’ll force me to focus on Kate instead of Gracie. I still feel like crap just thinking about it, though, and I regret my words.
“After the couples retreat?” she repeats, drawing me back to her.
“Yes.” I nod. “Something small, for now. We can do a big thing for an anniversary if you want. But small for now.”
I know Kate doesn’t care about having a giant wedding. She never has. She just wants to be married and have kids; that’s it. That’s all her dreams consist of. I feel bad that I’m only marrying her for my own selfishness. I don’t say anything, though, because I have no desire to hurt her feelings when she already realizes the truth.
I glance at Gracie’s bedroom door again as we sit back down. Kate misses it, though, as she rattles on about us getting married and what kind of life we’re going to live. My heart feels like it sinks and plummets out of my body.
She giggles in my ears, clapping her hands excitedly as she bounces on the couch cushions, babbling on and on about the wedding and our marriage together.
My eyes flicker to the front door, waiting desperately for Gracie to return. I want to kiss her again, to hold her in my arms again. I want her and me to be anusagain, like we used to be. It’s too late now. I promised my life to Kate. I’m a fucking idiot. What the hell is wrong with me?
I rub my eyes and lean back, turning my eyes to look at Kate. I force a smile when she looks at me. In her excitement, she misses it being forced. I’m barely giving her any attention. I know I’ve landed in hot water and need to get out of it.
My mind wanders to the end of the family BBQ of the day before and to Gracie pleading with everyone to believe her. I believed her. There was no shred inside of me that told me those little whiskey bottles were hers. I don’t know why, but the look of fear and desperation just told me that she was telling me the truth. Or maybe it was the kiss we’d shared that had had my mind clouded. Because while I was a little hesitant to believe myself. But I want to. I want to believe that they weren’t hers and she isn’t slipping, that she isn’t about to fall into a relapse. I want to believe it so badly, just like I know Owen and her parents do as well. But Gracie has proved us all wrong too many times before, so it’s hard now. I’m going to try, though. I need to try to keep believing her.
Chapter26
Gracie
Ishut my bedroom door as heavily as possible without slamming it. Slamming it shut would only alert the guys that something is wrong, and I don’t feel like explaining my frustrations. It’s more than just annoyance at this point. I’m far beyond confused, and I hate it. My body almost feels like it’s on fire right now, and I need to relieve myself. I can’t ask Colton. It doesn’t matter that I stayed at his place for a whole night. We didn’t do shit sexually. And we just shared our first kiss. Asking him to touch me might be pushing a button that isn’t ready to be pressed.
I cross my room to my dresser and pull open the top one that houses my underwear and socks. I dig into it and to the bottom before gripping the vibrator. Tugging it out, I roll the little blue vibrator between my fingers. It’s a small one, and I want to upgrade eventually, but asking daddy for that kind of money is a little awkward, and I can’t really lie to him. Not that I’m not good at it, but I’m really trying not to lie these days.
I press the button on top of the vibrator, the silicone covering with rivulets vibrating between my fingers. I press it again and shut it off to go to my bed. I set the vibrator down on my pillow and pull my shirt off before shoving my pants down. Next, my bra dropped to the ground, and underwear are last.