Page 3 of Everyone Loved Her
He sighed, not really wanting to repeat it, but he did, andthen added. “I shoulda been there at the funeral, don’t you think?”
She studied him, and then shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not in this state. Beth wouldn’t want to see you like this.No onewants to see you like this.”
Garrett chuckled. “I don’t think anyone wants to see me at all.” His voice slurred again. “‘Specially not Beth Young.” His eyes dropped to his glass, and he swept it up, downing half of it in one go, numb to the burn that came with it.
Lauren blew out a sharp breath. “I don’t know. I don’t know Beth well enough anymore to have anything to say on the matter, but I doubt she’ll be here long.” With that, she stepped away, taking the other patron’s order and leaving Garrett to his own devices.
He finished his drink, ignoring the vibration of his phone in his pocket. He knew it’d be Brittany, his soon-to-be ex-wife, wanting to know where he was at, what he was doing, and why he was always making her look so bad. She should’ve never married him in the first place, really. He was no different now than he was at the beginning—she just somehow got it in her head that she could fix him back then. He rubbed his fatigued eyes, and then reached into his pocket, silencing another reminder of just how screwed up he was.
Sixteen years since I’ve seen Beth.The thought drowned out the others as he sat the empty glass down, and turned toward the crowd, peering across to the back exit.I’ll bet she still hates me.He couldn’t blame her for that—just like he couldn’t blame her for running off and starting some new life with some rich guy who’d never made a mistake in his life.
His stomach soured at that, and he wondered what the decade and a half had done to Beth. Was her hair still that prettyauburn shade? Or had she gone off and dyed it blonde? Did she leave it long and wild? Or had she bobbed it off at her chin? Did she ever think of him, andnothave bile shoot up the back of her throat? When her dad visited him, he never,everspoke of her.
Probably out of respect. Or maybe he knew more than he let on.
Garrett stumbled through the crowd, bumping shoulders with dancing couples and mumbling some version of “sorry ‘bout that,” as he went. No one danced with him. In fact, even when he had married Brittany, he’d gotten so wasted, he’d passed out before anyone had even thought about dancing. He had blamed it on the nerves later on, but he’d knew the truth. He’d always known the truth. He still couldn’t close his eyes and not seeher.
“Garrett,” a light touch on his shoulder stopped him as he reached the hallway off the dance floor, leading to the exit. “Let me take you home.”
He glanced back at the familiar voice and face, seeing Sarah Armitage, another girl from Beth’s class and friend of sorts. He shook his head. “I ain’t goin’ home tonight.”
Her cherry-red lips turned downward. “You’re not sleeping in your truck again. That’s just dumb, and you know it. Brittany won’t be there.”
“Doubt it,” he snorted, slinking away and ignoring the way her high-heeled cowboy boots hustled to keep up. “I just wish she’d sign the papers.”
“It’ll be finalized whether or not she signs them, Garrett,” Sarah urged. “That’s how it works. I know it. Just let me take you home. You can call your lawyer tomorrow.”
He stopped, hand on the push bar of the door, and turned back to her. “What do you know about divorces, huh? Your oldman was the one who did all the work, and you were already in the next bed before it was ever finalized.” He winced at the pang of hurt on her face, layered with perfectly done makeup. She was always overdressed, still trying to meet that prom queen expectation she put on herself.
She clenched her fists at her sides, glaring at him. “Lucas and I were way more complicated than you and Brittany, and youknowthat. Brittany took you in because she?—”
“Has some obsession with people who need fixing,” he cut her off, his head now throbbing instead of buzzing. The last glass was finally hitting him, and it wouldn’t be long before he’d be out cold. Hopefully somewhere safe, and not on the train tracks where he’d ended up more than once.
Sarah grabbed his arm, and then pushed open the door, a rush of humid, heavy air sweeping in around them. “I’ll take you to my place then.”
“Why?” He tried to jerk away from her. “I don’t need your sympathy.”
“Idon’tsympathize for you,” she snorted, rolling her eyes. “I ain’t got one iota of pity for you, Garrett Myers. You made one mistake in your life, and you decided to go off and ruin the whole dang thing.”
“Yeah, well…” His voice trailed off as he spotted a dark blue Ford idling in the corner of the back lot. He stared at it as Sarah drug him around toward the front of the building, her boots crunching in the gravel. She seemed to pay it no mind, but he couldn’t figure out why the heck someone would park like that, facing the back of the bar. He didn’t recognize who it was.
But then again, he barely recognized himself anymore.
“You can sleep on the couch, and if Ty Miller shows up, just tell him that I said you could stay there. I’ve been on like threedates with him, and he acts like we’ve been married for ten years.”
“He’s a dumb?—”
“Don’t even start,” Sarah snapped, cutting him off. “You ain’t got room to say anything about who I choose to spend my time with. Lord knows my grammy would be losing her mind if she knew I was fixing to takeyouhome.”
“So then don’t,” Garrett drawled, stumbling over his own two feet.
She eyed him, shooting him a glare and then fell into silence for the rest of the awkward walk to her silver Toyota 4Runner. She opened the back passenger door, and gestured for him to climb inside, shaking her head as he clambered clumsily in, cursing under his breath as he nailed his knee on the frame.
“You thought about trying rehab out again? Maybe AA?” she snorted as he finally made it in.
“Waste of time,” he grumbled, but it was said after she’d slammed the door, leaving him sitting in the dark as she made her way to the driver’s side. She tossed her blonde waves over her shoulder as she climbed in and started the engine. He tilted back against the headrest, praying to God he wouldn’t vomit all over her black leather seats.
“You’re lucky I’m here tonight,” Sarah said as she pulled out of the parking spot, jetting off toward the exit of the lot. “I had planned on hanging out with Ty.”