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Maybe I can use the excuse of needing to get Brendan ready for bed and avoid this conversation altogether.
“So, what’s going on with you two?” She placed one hand on her hip and waited for a response.
Hell if I know.
I wasn’t getting out of this. I tilted my head back, glancing to the ceiling as if that would provide me with the answer.
“I have raised five kids, remember?”
I chuckled. Her five kids and I could get nothing past her, so I’m not surprised. “It’s complicated. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“How about from the beginning?” she suggested.
So I did. Leaving nothing out, I told Miranda our entire story—the PG version, of course. She covered her mouth with her hand as I explained why Rhett and I still harbored guilt for Caden’s death. And both of our eyes filled with tears when I admitted out loud how I purposely pushed Rhett away that summer, scared that another person would leave me.
“Oh, honey.” She moved around the island to wrap her arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “That’s a lot for you to be carrying around. You both need to let go of the guilt and regret.”
“I know.” I leaned into her, thankful for her comfort. Glancing down at my sleeping child, I swallowed over the thickness in my throat before finishing my story.
The corner of her mouth turned up when I told her what happened between us at Rhett’s cabin.
“That’s good. So what’s the problem?”
“I’m afraid he can’t get past all the mistakes we’ve made. I don’t know. Maybe he still blames me for being with Caden and pushing him away when things got complicated between us.”
“I—” She paused and furrowed her brows.
With a sinking stomach, I waited for her to tell me I was right.
I shifted Brendan in my arms. “Give me a minute. Let me put him down.”
Not ready to hear what she had to say, I was thankful for the reprieve as I walked into the living room and deposited Brendan on the couch.
Taking in his sleepy smile, I brushed the hair off his forehead and a pang of guilt washed over me. I had only spent a few hours with him that morning before Miranda all but kicked me out of the house. It wasn’t always easy to prioritize myself without feeling guilty for leaving him with someone else.
I walked back into the kitchen and busied myself washing the few dishes in the sink. “Sorry. He’s getting too heavy. I laid him on the couch for now. I’ll carry him up when I go to bed.” I was thankful he was such a deep sleeper, and I looked forward to rocking him a bit before putting him down for the night.
“Bella,” Miranda said as she came to stand next to me, a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Listen to me. I see the way Rhett looks at you—we all do. And it’s not with anger or blame. But I think he’s scared. In his heart, he’s known since he was a little boy that you were it for him.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure he only thought of me as another annoying little sister,” I said as Miranda smirked. “And frankly, I’m not sure he believes that now, let alone when we were kids.”
“Do you remember when you were like… seven, I guess? Rhett had to help you back to the house because you fell off your bike and skinned your knee?”
“Uh, a little, yeah.”
“He wouldn’t let me clean you up and put the Band-Aid on.Hewanted to do it. Do you remember why?” Miranda’s eyebrows raised in question.
I shook my head. “No. I don’t think so.…”
“He told me he needed to do it because one day you would be his wife, so he needed to practice taking care of you.” She smiled fondly, like the memory was one of her favorites.
I remembered playing house, pretending to be his wife when we were kids. I dreamed of that life for so long, thinking no other boy would ever have my heart. It wasn’t until he entered high school and always seemed to have a pretty blond cheerleader on his arm that I gave up on that idea.
I would always ask myself, “How come his type seems to be pretty blonds with big tits, and then there’s me? Petite brunette with average sized boobs.”
My stomach tightened painfully when images of Sarah in his arms just days before flashed through my mind. All the times he walked away from me, avoiding the hard conversations about his feelings and what he truly wanted. The heartache I felt after I told him I was pregnant and he took the out I gave him so easily without ever looking back.
“You know what? I’m angry.” I opened my eyes and glared at Miranda.
