“You know, that’s not a half-bad idea. In fact, it could be just what I need.”
Luke slugged me in the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, little brother. You go down to California and sow some wild oats. Or tame ones, whatever.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just come back here ready to rope like the devil and dance all night with the prettiest girls in seven counties. You go have yourself a nice break and leave the rest to me. I’ll get it all hooked up, ya hear?”
I gave my brother a bear hug and pounded my fist on his back. “Right. Thanks, Luke. See you on Wednesday.”
Jess
I hate breaking up with someone.
Relationships should last. There should be permanence and dependability in your bond with another person, and shame on you if you’re the one who ends it. Yet, here I was, doing that very thing once again.
But hopefully, for the last time ever.
“You’re serious?” Austen’s face was gray; this was about the third time he’d asked that question.
“I’m really sorry, Austen,” I apologized. Again. “You’re a terrific guy, and I care a great deal for you. I just don’t think we should try to force something that’s not right.”
“Not right? What’s not right about us? We’re amazing together!”
I let out a long sigh. “We had a lot of fun, but we aren’t very much alike. We want different things in life.”
“I didn’t think so. We barely gave it a shot, and now you want to call it quits?”
“You were ready to make it forever, so I wouldn’t call that ‘barely giving it a shot.’”
“Jess, please, let’s be reasonable for a minute.” He put a hand to his mouth, fisted it, and exhaled sharply. He was blinking fast—were those tears? No, his eyes were dry. “I rushed you, didn’t I? It was too soon. Let’s just forget the proposal! I’ll hold on to the ring, and we give it some time, maybe six months, and—”
“Austen, it’s no good,” I interrupted. “Time isn’t going to change this.”
“Time changes everything, angel. Why won’t you at least try?”
“Because…” I floundered for the words. All I had was a vague feeling, something I’d never voiced, but for some reason, my dad’s words came back to me, and they were perfect. “Dating isn’t a recreational sport.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I’m not in it for the entertainment. I’m looking for something that will last, and if it can’t, I won’t risk my heart or my future on it. I’m sorry, Austen.”
Austen’s shoulders drooped, and he sagged against the door frame. “I suppose there’s no use in asking you to come in, talk it over?”
I shook my head.
He turned, so his profile faced me, his feet scuffling on the rug in the entryway. “Is there someone else?”
Every guy I’ve ever broken up with asked me that question. Always, I could confidently and truthfully say no. But not this time.
When no words came, Austen just laughed and shook his head. “Dusty, Dusty. You quiet, sneaky piece of work, you.”
My mouth ran dry. “Hang on, I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to. I saw you watching him when you were together. He knew exactly what he was doing, pretending to be friends with me so he could get close to you. And look how well it worked.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s a pretty rotten thing to say.”
Austen’s head swung around to look at me. “The truth hurts. I ask the guy for some advice, trust him to be a friend, and he stabs me in the back.”