Page 97 of Small Town Boy

Holding her hand out, she shrugs, clearly giving up. “Thank you for loving me. For showing me that love is real. I hope you’ll always remember me, and know that I loved you. I wish that love was enough.”

With a single nod, she turns on her heel and starts walking away.

That’s when something in me snaps.

Absolutely fucking not…

Ire splinters inside me, breaking off into hundreds of little pieces, each one fueling a flame. This shit has gone on long enough. I’m done. Everyone I know is done. It’s time someone put a stop to it.

Looks like that someone is me.

“Kenz!” I holler.

Our sweet town librarian looks up, finding me quickly. All I do is point to Bronwyn who is heading her way. Kenzie reads my mind and she’s off, intercepting my beautiful, smart, amazing girlfriend.

My forever.

My temper flares again, the million fires inside me combining into an inferno. I flex my hands into fists, trying to channel some of what I’m feeling, as I make my way toward stage. It doesn’t work though.

Dustin sees me coming, the quizzical look on his face silently asking me if something is wrong. Of course something is fucking wrong. I’m on stage in front of the whole town. This is not who I am; we all know this. I keep to myself and I don’t make a scene.

Except today.

I hold out my hand, asking for the microphone. Dustin’s still confused, but hands it to me anyway, stepping back and out of the way.

“Before Dustin gets started, there’s something we need to make clear,” I announce. The whole town stops, everyone turning to look at me. Surprise is written all over their faces, a few of them whispering to each other. I don’t fucking care, and they’re about to find out just how much. I scan over to the side and find Bronwyn, standing with her arm linked in Kenzie’s. “Willa did not plan this event. It might have been sponsored by Hayes, but this whole thing is the brainchild of Bronwyn Ainsworth.”

I point in her direction, giving her a wink. “So the person you should be talking about, the person you should be thanking, is Bronwyn. Not Willa. All this, from bringing in Dolly’s to asking Dustin to do his song and dance⁠—”

“I don’t dance, dude,” Dustin mutters behind me.

I roll my eyes, ignoring my best friend’s two cents, and continue, “All this perfect Hickory Hills charm was brought to you by her. Who y’all keep trying to shun since she isn’t from here. Y’all should be ashamed of yourselves!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement and I turn to look. It’s Willa, running full speed, her long legs carrying her as fast as they can go. She skids to a halt in front of the stage, flushed and out of breath.

“Noel’s right, y’all, this was all Bronwyn! She did all the research on what made our town special and what our other town events were like so she could mimic the feel and make this successful. And she nailed it!”

Murmurs fill the audience, everyone looking around at each other. My heart rate eases now that Willa’s here and has confirmed to everyone where the credit should go. I’m still pissed though.

“Where were you?” I hiss at her, covering the microphone. My annoyance with her doesn’t need to be broadcast.

“I got caught up in something. I’m here now!” She brushes me off, rushing over to Bronwyn.

I watch as the two of them hug, whispering something to each other. A sense of relief hits as they both smile and laugh, clearing the air between them.

That solves one problem. But there’s still something that needs to be addressed.

“And while we’re at it,” I say into the microphone, the bubbling of my anger still going. “Know what else you can knock off? All this talking behind everyone’s back crap. I get it, y’all need some entertainment. Well, read a book! Watch the TV! Who I invite into my life is not up for debate. I’m pretty sure I speak for my whole generation when I say that we are sick of all y’all talkin’ like we can’t make our own choices.”

“Damn straight,” Dustin says.

I see nodding heads all around the audience, a bunch of faces I’ve known all my life silently agreeing with me. Off to my left, Ken Noble chuckles, and I love that laughter is his response.

“Know who my choice is? Her!” I point to Bronwyn, who looks up at me in surprise. No, that’s more than surprise; it’s shock. “Yes, I am aware she’s a Yankee—I think it’s fun to listen to her talk and figure out all our weird southern traditions. And I’m aware that she doesn’t like sweet tea, and that’s fine, because that means there’s more for me. And yes, I am also aware that she is not who any of y’all saw me with. And know what? I don’t give a damn. She surprised me too, but I’ve loved every damn second of it. Because I love her.”

Bronwyn’s hands fly to her face, covering her open mouth as she gasps. Muffled reactions surround me, but I tune them out. Only she matters right now.

“Bronwyn, I love you. I don’t care who knows it. Actually, that’s not true. I do care about that—because I want everyone to know it. Everyone.” I turn back to the group, looking around for the two biggest offenders. When I find them, I home in. “Mrs. Burch, Mrs. Chamberlain, y’all got that? I love Bronwyn Ainsworth, and I’m going to marry her. Regardless of what you think. Y’all can choose to accept that or not. Doesn’t matter to me. And if you can’t, then don’t bother showing up at the tree lighting tonight.”