Page 39 of Hard to Love

“I didn’t. Malone stayed angry with me for all of the back and forth; my God, he’s a good man. But he knew I would need to come to terms with being loved. Oddly enough, I never doubted my love. I didn’t think anyone was strong enough to love me. What do we deserve, if not love? Malone said that to me. He made me recognize the love I had all along. To accept what was given freely, something I’d never received. Sometimes, it’s hard to fathom why someone rejects love. Most of the time, it’s because they don’t love themselves.” Standing, she walks over to look in on the twins, who have fallen asleep.

“So now what? Move on? Wait for him to realize I love him?” Taking a sip of my water then I grab another tissue.

“I can’t tell you. Your path is yours. You can’t do it the way we did. But you do need to recognize it when it comes. Don’t, no matter what, give up if you’re not ready to shut him out.” Lea pulls me into a hug. “Now, let’s get dressed for drinks by the ocean.” Patting me on the back, she walks toward her bedroom.

Later, we spend a great evening on the shore. We dance our asses off while drinking everything we can stand. It is a great night. One, we each pay for the entire day on Sunday.

Our family gathered at my parents for a cookout, the first of the season. Chord and I made a quick run to the grocery store for Mom when she realized she had forgotten a few items. We split up once there to make it faster, both of us not wanting to miss a thing. Rounding the corner, I don’t notice what’s in front of me, and I run into a wall of a man.

Catching me before I hit the floor are strong, tatted arms. His hands around my waist grip me tightly, stopping me from hitting the floor. I take the opportunity to feel his biceps, nice, but he’s no Hardy.

“Walker. What the fuck are you doing to my sister?” Walker. Nice name, must be a country boy.

“Chord. This is Thayer?” My newfound friend looks me up and down, still not letting go.

“It is. Mind letting her go?” Chord’s voice grows deep, making me tilt my head, questioning the issue he has with Walker. Chord rolls his eyes with a shake of his head, then reaches for me. Pulling me from his grasp.

“I’m beginning to wonder what kind of friend you are, Chord. Having a sister that looks like this but never shares.” His smile spreads wide when his brow cocks to the side.

“It makes me a better brother, I believe.” Walker’s smile shifts into a smirk as he fake punches Chord in the arm.

“It’s good to see you, man. A pleasure, Thayer.” Walker takes my hand, shaking it before he walks away.

“You’ve been holding out,” I say, slapping my brother on the arm as we watch Walker turn the corner.

“Not in the least; besides, you need to get your shit straight before moving on.” Throwing his arm over my shoulder, he kisses me on the head.

“Chord, my heart’s so shattered, I’ll never be the same. But my eyes aren’t broken,” I joke, jabbing him in the side. We chuckle as we walk to the checkout.

Four months after Hardy, I’m still here. In the same place, I was that terrible evening. How can people not recognize the enormity of their actions? The audacity to make life-changing decisions on your behalf as if it will never evolve into a gruesome benign case of masochism is beyond me.

I’ve spent four months, one hundred and twenty-two days, every waking moment, dissecting my every move with him. What I did wrong. How we could have changed things. You know, so when he comes back, we can fix our issues. Because that’s gonna happen.

Goddamn it, I’m such a fool. Mother fucker is going to leave me like this for the rest of my life. I’m pissed at myself for allowing it. Yet, I can’t stop it. Maybe the best thing to happen lately is that I’m fucking mad as hell. So I do the most ignorant thing a girl can do… I go on a date.

For the past month, Walker has been ever-present. I’m not sure when it happened, but I consider him a friend. If he asks me out, I won’t think twice. He’s a good guy. Handsome and intelligent. His blond hair and blue eyes with that all-American smile make the gray skies fade. No, never leaving, just ebbing.

He’s been a great friend the last few weeks. Making me laugh, putting a Band-Aid on the gaping hole that my soul can’t repair. He’s no Hardy, thank God. Indeed my luck isn’t so bad that I’d end up with two.

The turning of the tide happens one evening in late August. Walker shows up at my office with flowers. What the fuck do I do now?

“Hey, gorgeous. I’m thinking…dinner. By the shore. Maybe a walk, nothing heavy. Just us buddies, hanging out. His blue eyes are soft and friendly. A sweet smile on his perfect lips.

Walker is truly a gorgeous man. Strapping even. He’s six-feet-four, maybe six-five. Beach blond hair with eyes as blue as the sky. The sweetest disposition anyone could ask for, easy-going—perhaps too easy. Built with broad shoulders and swagger befitting a country boy. Yeah, Walker is a pure country boy.

Faded, tight jeans with a t-shirt and ball cap pulled down close as if he’s hunting his prey behind hooded eyes. Lots of women dream about men like him. He looks like a surfing cowboy. His family owns a farm just on the outskirts of Shallotte. But his good looks and fortune don’t end there; Walker is an attorney. A catch by any sense of the phrase. I’m a lucky woman to be spending so much time with him.

Breakups are different for girls. We like to hold on to all the shit that fucked us up and make every man we meet pay for the fucker before them. That’s not me. I prefer revenge. So I opt for happiness. It looks good on me. I accept Walker’s date. Not wanting anything more than to forget. I’m over being miserable. I may never love another man the way I did Hardy, but by God, I can try.

After a nice dinner, we take our walk. The beach is quiet, just us and the waves. Vacation season will soon be over, Labor Day looms in the not too distant future. Soon, the leaves will change, signaling autumn to arrive. Another season without him.

“What’s on your mind, Thayer?” Walker bumps me with his shoulder.

“Penny, for my thoughts? Change. Change is on my mind, Walker. You?” Glancing at him, I’m hoping he can’t see the tears welling in my eyes.

“You. Always you, Thayer. I find I’m spending more and more time thinking about you. I’m really hoping that’s okay with you.” Our pace slows; I feel the shift in the conversation before he even begins to speak.

Walker Pennington wants more. With me.