Page 249 of Heartache Duet
“Don’t, Connor!” Karen cuts in. “Don’t let Rhys’s drunk ass convince you that your relationship was anything less than it was. You loved that girl with everything you had, and she—she worshipped the ground you walked on.”
Rhys’s heavy breaths fill the momentary silence.
She adds, “Rhys is just looking for someone to blame; that’s all this is.”
I glance down at Rhys, catch the moment his eyes drift shut.
“And if he really loved her the way he’s acting like he does, then he wouldn’t have gone around screwing anything with spreadable legs for the past three years.”
Michael gasps. “Is this how kids talk these days?” he asks Dad.
Dad runs a hand down his face.
I squat down in front of Rhys, wipe the blood off my lip. “You’re allowed to miss her,” I mumble. “But I can’t fix this. I can’t turn back time and be better to her.”
“Jesus Christ,” Karen sighs out, flopping down on the couch. “You dipshits ever consider that none of this has anything to do with either of you or your giant egos?”
“Girl, preach!” Dad mumbles, handing me a dish towel to wipe off the blood.
“If anyone should be hurting, it should be me,” Karen continues. “You’re both sitting there all boohoo, poor me. She was my best friend. You want to talk about who’s known her the longest? We’ve been friends since kindergarten! And you want to compare who’s been there for her the most?” she asks, and I can hear it in her voice… hear the toughness she carries around with her begin to weaken, begin to fade. “That would be me, you assholes! I was there for her when her mom first deployed, and whenever there was something on the news about the war, and she’d get scared, she’d call me!” She’s crying now, tears are flowing, but still—she holds her head high, her words steady even when her voice isn’t. “And some fucking friends you are, because I’ve been holding both your hands ever since she left, and neither of you—not once—has ever asked if I’m okay. And I’m not, just so you know. I’m not fucking okay… because she was my best friend.”
Silence falls, and so does my heart.
“I’m sorry,” Rhys mumbles. His eyes shift from Karen to me. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.
I sit down next to Karen, throw my arm around her shoulders. “I’m a sucky friend,” I admit, kissing the top of her head. “We both are.”
Karen nods. “I hate you both and hope you catch chlamydia.”
Rhys laughs once. “We’d deserve it.”
“No shit,” she retorts.
Dad sighs. “I’m so confused.”
Michael rubs his hands together. “Can I fix you guys something to eat or drink?”
Rhys shrugs, then starts replacing the coffee table to its original position. “I could eat.”
Karen scoffs. “When are you not eating?”
Rhys settles on the other couch while Dad and Michael move to the kitchen. “Is that a friend of your dad’s?” he asks, his voice low.
I shake my head. “That’s Michael, Dad’s boyfriend.”
Rhys’s jaw hits the floor. Next to me, Karen gasps. “Your dad’s gay?” she whisper-yells. “How did I not know this?”
“I only just found out, but don’t make a thing of it okay?”
“He’s kind of cute,” Karen whispers.
Rhys asks, “Who? Mr. Ledger?”
“Well, yeah, him too.”
“Don’t make this more awkward,” I mumble.
Dad and Michael return with a tray of drinks and some chips. Michael hands a glass to Rhys, and Rhys says with a toothy grin, “Thanks, Mrs. Mr. Ledger.”