-HINDLEY-
Sitting at a stoplight in Leif’s convertible 1966 Mustang, I gazed up at the stars littering the night sky. Rory had insisted we take the car instead of his motorcycle, claiming helmet hair wouldn’t look good. I’d warned him that convertible hair wouldn’t look much better. And it didn’t.
“Thanks for going to dinner with me tonight,” I said. “I’m sorry about my family.”
He turned and stared at me, his expression void of emotion. Rory was lost to me, and that realization scared me the most.
“Why are you sorry?” he finally asked.
“For my family. They pretty much raked you over the coals back there.”
“You’re their daughter, Hindley. Of course they’re going to protect you.” He turned his attention back to the light and sped off as soon as it turned green.
“Come back to me,” I whispered, placing my hand lightly on his thigh. It was the comment he always used with me when I was absorbed in my own dark thoughts. I prayed my words would bring him back as well.
He glanced down at my hand for the briefest second before staring out at the road again. He didn’t acknowledge my plea or my touch.
I slid my hand away as if I’d been burned.
We sat in silence the rest of the way to my house, and with every passing mile, I knew he was moving further and further away from me.
Slowly he pulled up to the curb in front of my house, and I wondered if he’d follow me in. When he didn’t turn off the engine, I had my answer.
I reached for the door handle, turning my back on him. “Thanks again for coming.”
“You’re welcome.”
I glanced over my shoulder but found he wasn’t looking at me at all.
Something in my heart broke and I fought to hold back tears.
This thing between us had come to an end, like I always knew it would. I only hoped I could still work with Rory in the future without completely breaking down every time I saw him.
I stepped out of the car, never looking back. I couldn’t.
“I’ll see you later, Rory,” I said quietly, trying to control my shaky voice. If I could just make it inside then I could break down.
I closed the car door, not surprised when he didn’t say anything or come after me. Why would a man like Rory want a broken girl like me?
“Are you coming to France with me?” he asked.
I turned and stared at him. “No. I can’t.”
His head snapped up and his narrowed eyes met mine. “Why not?”
“I’ll be in Miami.”
“Miami?” He sounded disgusted by my revelation. “What for?”
“The Baltimore Ravens are starting their summer training camp in a few weeks.”
He arched his brows and glared. “And?”
“And,” I said, mocking him, “they have a quarterback who may be looking for a new agent. I’m going down to talk with his manager.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“I only found out today so stop being all,” I waved my hand in the air, “whatever it is you’re being right now.”
“I thought Stedwick wanted you with me, touring with me all the time.”
“Our contract doesn’t bind me to you exclusively, Rory.” There, I’d said it, and as soon as I did, I was sorry I had.
His expression morphed into pure anger.
I straightened and glared right back. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”
He turned his attention back to the road, shaking his head.
“Rory, please,” I begged. “Just, just look at me.” I leaned over the door. It was taking everything I had not to climb over it, crawl into his lap and force him to talk to me.
“Your parents are right,” he said, never meeting my gaze.
“Right about what?”
“You deserve better.”
“What the hell are you talking about? My parents never said that.”
“They didn’t have to.”
“Are we really starting this bullshit again, Rory, because it’s getting kind of old.”
He whipped his head to stare at me, his eyes narrowed. “What bullshit?”
“This whole, ‘I’m not good enough for Hindley’, bullshit you like to sling at me.”
“It’s not bullshit, it’s true.”
“Says who?”
He remained silent.
“Don’t pin this on my parents,” I said. “This is your bullshit drama and you need to deal with it, not them.”
“I think you deserve better,” he said so quietly, I almost didn’t hear him. “Someone better than me.”
Now I was pissed. Even if I did want a relationship with this man, I couldn’t carry both of our insecurities.
Fisting my hands on my hips, I stared down at him. “You know what, Rory, maybe you’re right. Nothing in my past would lead me to believe that I deserve a man who’s kind, caring, compassionate, funny, smart, talented, and gorgeous. And yet here he sits, right in front of me, casting me off. So why would I be surprised that he doesn’t want me? According to you, that’s exactly what I deserve.”
“That’s not what I meant, Hindley.”
“Then, please, tell me what the fuck you mean because I am about to lose my shit out here.”
He stared up at me, his eyes wide. “You deserve someone better suited for you and your family. Someone like Matt.”
And finally, there it was. Everything we’d done together, everything we’d been through, everything we’d fought for, slowly slipped away, all because of his inability to believe in me, to believe in himself, to believe in us.
As much as I loved Rory Gregor, I realized in that moment that I would never be able to make a difference in his life, in the way he thought about himself.
His self-deprecating thoughts had been ingrained in his mind for far too long. There was nothing more I could do to convince him otherwise. I’d been foolish to even try.
“You’re right, Rory,” I said, backing away. “I do deserve someone like Matt. But not for the reasons you think.” I bit back my tears, knowing I couldn’t break down in front of him. “Good night,” I whispered before turning and walking toward my front door.
I fumbled with the keys, pissed that I’d let him talk me into locking my door tonight.
Suddenly I felt his body behind me. Drawing in a deep breath to steady my fingers, I slid the key in the lock and opened the door, walking inside. Never turning, I pushed on the door but it caught on something. Glancing down I noticed it was Rory’s foot.
I turned and stared up at him. His eyes were huge, frightened, frantic, like a wild animal fighting for his life. He raked his hands through his hair several times, his mouth opening and closing but no words came out.
I waited, praying he’d talk, hoping we could move forward. Instead, he remained silent.
I studied his face, committing every detail to memory—his blue eyes, his slightly crooked nose, his well-defined cheekbones, his mouth. Oh, God, that mouth. This was the last time I’d probably see him as anything more than his agent.
“Goodbye, Rory,” I said through choked tears.
He finally moved his foot, and I shut the door, locking it behind me before dropping to the floor. Clutching my knees to my chest, I sat in silence as hot tears streamed down my face.
I laid on the floor on my side, curling into a tight ball to protect myself like I always did. The tears continued to fall, and I allowed the pain of my broken heart to permeate every part of my body. The pain was a reminder of all the choices that had been taken away from me in life.
Slowly I drifted off to oblivion, drowning in a sea of sorrow that I feared would swallow me whole.