Page 39 of Renegade Rift
So, I come up with the simplest lie to tell him. “Because I don’t trust you.”
God, it tastes bitter. I’m a horrible person. He’s done nothing but help me. And yet I can’t bring myself to let my damn walls down, even for him.
“Which I understand. And you can walk away right now if you want, but I’m trying here, Juliet.” He steps back. Leaning against the opposite counter, he runs a hand through his thick hair. “You are the only family I have left. I know we’re not blood. We’re not even friends. But I don’t want to fight with you.”
Family.
I thought he was kidding when he mentioned it before, but by the way his unnervingly genuine blue eyes glisten, I can tell he means it. Ford is standing here, with his heart on his sleeve, offering me the one thing I didn’t realize I’ve been so desperately missing.
It’s true, he might not be my blood, and he definitely isn’t someone I fully trust, but something deep within me snaps. My walls break, and even though it’s faint, my heart finds a way to whisper the truths I’ve kept inside for so long.
“I attended culinary school when Tyler was in the minors, then worked as a line cook to help make ends meet.” I reach for the cutting board and the spinach to top the quiche with, needing to keep my hands busy.
Ford shakes his head and scoffs. “I’ve always thought they should be paid more. Those guys are the future of most franchises.”
“Unfortunately, the powers at be don’t see it that way.” I think back to our first apartment in North Carolina. “We struggled every month until Tyler was called up to the majors.”
“Is that why you stopped cooking?”
“The wife of a star athlete doesn’t work.” The mimicked tone rolls off my tongue before I can stop myself. The knife in my hand clatters to the counter, and I inhale a sharp breath, waiting for Ford to berate me for my actions.
But he doesn’t.
He’s not Tyler.
“Well, that’s bullshit.” He huffs as he steps up to the island and grabs another cutting board to start chopping the bacon.
When I don’t respond immediately, Ford swings his over observant gaze in my direction. “Wait, is that what Tyler told you?”
I don’t know how to respond. I don’t want to further ruin his image of his brother, but I also feel the weight of my past with Tyler pressing down on my chest. As much as I want to move forward, it’s always there and with each day that passes, it demands I take notice. Until now, it’s been easy to focus on untangling the strings he tied me in.
Now I just want to be free.
“Juliet.” His tone is kind, but demanding. “Is that what he told you?”
My chin hits my chest. “Yes.”
“Damn it.”
“But—”
“No, don’t try to justify his actions.”
“I was still the one who quit working.” I hate that I’m even defending him, but Ford wasn’t there. He didn’t have to live with the cold shoulder turned isolation when I tried to plead my case. He didn’t come home to harsh stares or have to sleep on the couch because the bedroom door was locked.
“He made you believe that. After he—” Ford’s eyes harden under furrowed brows, holding back his thoughts. It’s clear he’s been talking to his teammates. Or rather the one teammate that would know anything about Tyler.
“After he what?” A maniacal laugh bubbles from my chest, and it’s at this moment I know I’ve truly cracked. “Cheated on me? Left me in debt? Made me believe I was the problem?”
Ford’s lips part, and he nearly drops his own knife. “You knew.”
“Not at first.
He sets his knife down and turns, leveling with me. “But you stayed.”
It’s not a question.
“I did. For too long.” Admitting it frees a chunk of the weight from my chest, and I feel indescribably light on my feet. “This is weird, isn’t it?”
