On Saturday evening, Justin visited his sister, as he usually did. Since she’d returned to Itirangi a year ago, friends and family had been invited to dinner at Aria’s house every Saturday. Her return to town had happened to coincide with Justin’s unceremonious dumping by Chloe, and attending the weekly get-together allowed him to pretend he had a social life. Plus, it got him out of his house. He tired of his own company, and when that happened, Dan and Ritchie tired of him. They showed it in nasty ways, predominantly with their claws.
He arrived fifteen minutes late, like always, the better to ensure he was never alone with his nosy sister—whom he adored, mind you—and also never had the dubious honor of being the last to show up. No one wanted to be the guy who delayed dinner.
“Hi, Justin,” Aria said, hugging him when he strode through the doorway.
He hugged her back, then held her by the shoulders to examine her. “Hey, Ri,” he replied. “You’re, uh, eye-catching today.”
Seeing her in a lime-green tank top and electric-blue leggings, it was the kindest comment he could think of. His sister was, by his estimation, the most memorable woman in Itirangi. Her eclectic taste, which often ran to vivid, clashing colors and quirky jewelry, and her no-holds-barred approach to friendship tended to startle people. But they adjusted quickly, because Aria also had a big heart and the best of intentions.
“I try,” she said with a smile. “Take a seat. Mum and Dad are already here.”
“Do you need a hand with the cooking?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, I’ve got it under control. You can get some plates and cutlery out, if you want.”
He began to do what he was told, but then Aria grabbed his arm and frowned up at him.
“Are you okay? You seem a little…off.”
“Off, how?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But there may as well be a black rain cloud hanging over your head. You look pretty grim.”
He blinked, astonished anyone could distinguish his mood today from his mood every other day. Either it was a testament to Aria’s superior power of observation, or a sign of how truly wretched he looked.
“Mind your own business. I’m fine.”
Even as he said it, he cringed internally. He sounded like a pouty teenager, and Aria didn’t seem to believe him in the slightest. But after raising a doubtful brow, she turned away and resumed cooking. He sniffed, trying to figure out what was in the pot, and his mouth watered. Mmm. Some kind of curry. Probably vegetarian, since Aria didn’t eat meat, but curry was curry; he wasn’t fussy. He found a stack of plates, piled cutlery on top, and carried them to the dinner table, situated near a wall in the kitchen. Aria liked to keep the table in the kitchen so that she could be amongst her family while she cooked. The kitchen was the heart of her home.
“Hey, Mum, Dad,” Justin said, dragging a chair over to join his parents, Donna and Geoff, who were sipping mugs of tea.
His mum gave him a look. “Is that any way to greet your mother? Get over here and give me a hug.”
Justin exchanged a long-suffering look with his dad. She had her kids wrapped around her finger and she knew it. A short, slightly rounded woman, Donna gave warm, motherly hugs. Once Justin had squeezed her, he sat down.
A knock sounded on the door, then Cooper strolled in, claimed a seat beside Justin, and said, “Are you still moping?”
“Aha!” In a flash, Aria was next to them. “I knew something was wrong,” she declared.
“Well, obviously,” Cooper agreed. “Just look at his grumpy face. He’s even more miserable than usual.”
“What’s the matter, honey?” his mum asked, concerned.
He had the worst siblings ever. Never had the world seen a more obnoxious pair. He glowered and silently condemned them to the deepest pits of hell. “Nothing is wrong,” he bit out. “Everything is great.”
“He’s having trouble in his love life,” Cooper said, speaking from behind a hand as though sharing a secret. And he was, damn it, but it wasn’t his secret to share.
Justin groaned and looked at the ceiling. “Why do I ever tell you anything?”
Aria glanced between them. “I thought your love life was nonexistent. What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” Justin grunted, at the same time as Cooper said, “He’s hung up on Emily Parker.”
“Emily?” Aria beamed, apparently delighted. “Good choice. I’d love to have her as my sister. How long have you been dating?”
Justin picked at a callus on his palm and wondered whether he could get away with stonewalling her. If Aria knew what had happened with Emily, it wouldn’t be long before her friends knew, and from there the gossip could spiral wildly out of control. He knew how quickly the grapevine worked in Itirangi. Not to mention, Aria would probably side with Emily.
Cooper took the choice away. “They aren’t dating,” he told her, shaking his head sadly. “Anymore, that is. Emily moved a few things into his house, and he had a meltdown and broke it off.”
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees as all of his family members, bar none, pinned him with chilly stares. He shifted, uncomfortable under the weight of their combined disapproval.
Aria cleared her throat. “Let me get this right. So, Emily—who’s the sweetest person ever and completely gorgeous and whom every single guy in Itirangi has asked out at least once—agreed to date you, and then you rejected her because she was trying to make a place for herself in your life?”
“I didn’t reject her,” Justin muttered. “She rejected me. She was trying to change me.”
“Did you ask her why she did what she did?” Geoff asked. Avoiding his wife’s gaze, he added, “Women’s motivations are often not what we think they are. Sometimes, the things they do make sense to them, but not to us.”
“Have you been reading self-help books?” Cooper queried with a grin.
Geoff shrugged. “Your mother leaves them in the bathroom. Gotta read something when you’re on the loo.”
Justin scowled, preferring not to picture his father reading Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus’ while taking a crap.
“I didn’t ask,” he replied. “It was perfectly obvious.”
“I thought I raised you better,” Donna said, sounding disappointed.
Justin hunched his shoulders and ducked his head. He hated when his mum sounded disappointed, preferring her to just knock him over the head with a hard-covered book and get on with it.
“You shouldn’t assume the worst without getting all of the facts,” she continued. “I know Chloe broke your heart, but not all women are the same.”
Justin flinched at the reminder of his failed relationship. But for once, rather than hurting when he heard Chloe’s name, he felt nothing other than embarrassment that anyone could still think he cared for her.
“You should give Emily the benefit of the doubt,” Aria insisted. “Or at least give her the opportunity to defend herself.”
The thing was, he had. When he’d called her that morning, she could have explained why she’d brought those things around, but when she apologized, that seemed as good as an admission of guilt. If he’d been wrong, she would have told him to pull his head out of his ass. Wouldn’t she have?
If the roles were reversed, he certainly would have told her to in no uncertain terms. He would have yelled until she heard his point of view. But Emily wasn’t like him. In all the years he’d known her, he couldn’t ever recall her raising her voice, let alone arguing with anyone. Every person she met adored her, and because of that, he’d assumed it was in her nature to be easygoing, but perhaps, for whatever reason, she was incapable of telling people when she thought they were being a jerk. Perhaps he shouldn’t have assumed her guilt simply because she hadn’t reacted as he would have in that situation.
He felt a twinge of guilt. He’d said things that would have been hard for anyone to hear, but especially someone as soft as Emily.
What if he’d made a mistake?
Emily woke stupidly early on Monday and drove to the shop. She unlocked the door, then the top drawer of her desk, in order to retrieve the letter for Justin. She’d given the manner and time of delivery a great deal of thought and decided the best option was a weekday morning, before he woke, so she didn’t risk running into him while she dropped the letter off. If he came outside while she was sticking it in the mailbox, she thought she’d die from mortification, but she had no problem creeping around like a wuss.
Returning to her car, she drove to Justin’s house and parked a few hundred yards away, so the sound of the engine wouldn’t wake him up. She left the car idling, walked the distance to the mailbox, slid the envelope inside, and dashed back to the car, slamming it into gear and taking off as quickly as possible. Her heart galloped madly, and her breath came in puffs, whether from the running or anxiety, she didn’t know. By the time she arrived back at the shop, nervous sweat had plastered her shirt to her back. Resting her forehead on the steering wheel, she calmed her breathing and waited for the sweat to dry before going inside to start her workday.
When Justin drove past his mailbox on the way to check the pest traps on Monday morning, he noticed an envelope protruding from the slit and hit the brakes. Since the envelope hadn’t been there yesterday, and it was too early in the morning for the postman to have come by, someone must have hand-delivered it either late last night or early this morning.
Feeling apprehensive, he wound down the window and snatched the envelope from the slot. It had no postal stamp, which meant his deduction about it being hand-delivered was correct. His name was written on the front in an elegant, looping handwriting he didn’t recognize, and when he ripped the envelope open, he withdrew a handwritten letter in that same looping script.
Who could it possibly be from? He hadn’t received a handwritten letter since Cooper had been stationed overseas with the Navy a few years ago.
He scanned the words and his blood ran cold. Then he re-read it to make sure it really said what he thought it said and laid it down. Closing his eyes, his hands fisted on his thighs. Shit. He’d screwed up epically. Just as his family had suspected, sweet lovable Emily had only been trying to make him happy. Maybe she’d mis-stepped, but she’d had good intentions. And he’d lumped her in with Chloe because of it.
If only she’d said something at the time.
No, I shouldn’t have leapt to conclusions. God, he’d been a total bastard. The things he’d said to her.
He was unworthy of her, and he’d proved it that day. Yet here she was, writing him a goddamn letter just so he didn’t feel bad about himself. Well, he felt pretty fucking awful right now.
His gut twisted itself painfully into knots. Perhaps he could go to her and apologize. Tell her that he appreciated everything she’d tried to do and that he’d be happy for her to decorate in future, provided she consulted him first. In fact, he couldn’t imagine anything he’d like more than to choose new decor with Emily, for a home they’d share. He skimmed over the letter again, reading each sentence individually, searching for any sign she still cared for him.
There’s a good chance I’m falling in love with you, she’d written. He focused on that lone sentence, which filled him with hope. But despair quickly followed. He didn’t deserve Emily. Even if she gave him another chance, he’d do something stupid to screw it up. He didn’t know how to be the guy who did right by her. Chloe had messed him up ten different ways and left him unable to engage in a normal relationship.
He could go to Emily and spill his guts, tell her how crazy he was about her and how he was sorry for treating her the way he had. Knowing what a sweetheart she was, she’d probably forgive him. And for a while, it would be bliss. But what was to stop him from hurting her in future? She was delicate, emotionally if not physically. He…wasn’t. Remembering the sounds of her sobs over the phone, he didn’t think he could stand to hurt her again.
So, what would he do?
For now, nothing. He needed time to think, to un-muddle his head. A day, maybe two. Then he’d decide what came next. He had time. The most important thing was that he do this right.