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“Are you okay?” I ask, and Ren scoffs.
“Am I okay? I tell you I ruined her life, and you want to know if I’m okay?” he demands, but I frown.
“How…” I shake my head. “How are you responsible? She got pregnant by another man and then showed up lying to you about it, and you’re at fault? She doesn’t deserve what happened to her. No one deserves to be hurt in a crash. But she made the choice to drive, not you. Just like she makes the choice every time she swallows a pill.” I shake my head.
“But…”
“No buts. I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve sympathy and compassion. She does. I won’t pretend to understand addiction, but you can’t help someone who doesn’t want help. Kelly doesn’t want to get better. She wants to keep using. You can’t help her. She needs to help herself.” I squeeze, and Ren takes in a deep shuddering breath.
“Fuck. I… I didn’t even know I needed to hear someone say that…” Ren whispers, and I nod in understanding.
“We can’t see the good in ourselves sometimes. It takes someone else reminding us that we aren’t our worst thoughts to realize it.”
If only I could take my own advice.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
“From Hell with Love” by Ryan Caraveo
ROSE
“Are you crazy?!” I shout at Nash as he lounges on my bed. I’m staring at my own reflection with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.
“Not clinically,” he snarks, and I roll my eyes.
“Nashville, I cannot wear this to a wedding. Not unless it’s in Vegas, and the theme is showgirl!” I protest.
“There are three more,” he sighs, pointing at the pile of material.
“Do any of them cover more than just my nipples and vagina?!”
“Of course.” Nash’s tone is bland, eyes unfocused as he scrolls through his phone. I’ve finally had enough.
“Are you okay? Do I need to go get the other two?” I demand, and he rolls his eyes. Again! “Nashville!” I snap, grab a pillow, and toss it at him.
“Fuck, alright! Jeez! I don’t want to go to this wedding. I don’t have a choice, though, so here I am, trying to make the best of it. You in a sinful dress is a good place to start.” Nash shrugs, and I shake my head.
“Why do you have to go? You can’t skip it?” I lift a brow, and Nash looks at me like I’m crazy.
“My brother’s wedding? No…” he says that like the very suggestion of skipping is insane. The man just admitted to not wanting to go, but somehow I’m the one talking crazy?
“But…” I stare at him, trying to understand him. I want to ask why he doesn’t want to go. Why dressing me up like a sex doll is a better idea than just not going, but I know Nash. I’m not going to get a single answer. He’ll just dodge the question. I turn my attention to the pile of dresses and decide to just try the next one on.
“Try the red. You look good in red,” he offers, leaning back against my bed frame again.
“Sure,” I sigh, already wondering if this date will be more like torture than anything else.
* * *
“Holy fucking shit, Nash!” I gasp, staring up at the literal mansion in front of us. The venue is a three-hour drive away from the school, and Nash insisted on staying in a hotel, but his mother apparently insisted Nash attend family dinner tonight, despite that forcing him to miss the game. Tomorrow is the wedding. I’m not sure why I have to attend the dinner, but here we are.
I was prepared for drama. I was not prepared for the royal family of all dramas!
“My parents are rich, I am not. Especially because I chose hockey over the family business.” Nash reaches down and laces our fingers, turning to me. The sudden touch catches me off guard, silencing me. “Listen, my mother is…just…look,” he sighs, shakes his head, and tries again. “They are not a reflection of me or anything I believe, okay? Don’t let their bullshit get to you. And if my mother–” But his words are cut off by the door opening.
“If your mother, what, Nashville?” an elegant older woman asks as the door swings to reveal her. The way she says his name makes my hackles rise. This woman makes me think of Emily Gilmore if you took all the good out and left nothing but the bad.
“If my mother tries to fill you with pie, you are allowed to say no,” Nash jokes, but there’s a tension to his smile that I’ve never seen before. There’s no way he was about to warn me off pie. What the fuck?
