Chapter 13
LANEY
It's a little after 1 a.m., and I can't sleep. At this point, I'm not sure if I'll ever sleep again. My mind is a complete fucking mess, a tangled web of disbelief and deception. Nothing makes sense anymore. Running into the only man I ever loved, a free man, living under a different name, seemingly well, with a new life—one without me. There's no way I could have prepared for that.
The knob to my bedroom door rattles, and my eyes snap away from the white stables outside my window to the door. I know I locked my door. I always lock the door. But the question is, who would be trying to sneak into my room at this hour? I hug my legs tighter, resting my chin atop my knees, my eyes keenly zeroed in on the knob, waiting to see if it will sound again. It's possible there was never a sound at all. I've felt like I've been going through the motions all afternoon with one foot in reality and the other in the clouds, because there's no way any of this is real.
The antique bronze lever dips slightly once more before it's followed by a light knock. "Laney, are you awake?"
That voice—the one that's talked me through some of my darkest hours—pierces through the door. My feet race across the floor, and I fling open the door, and there she is: my best friend. "Syd," I sigh in relief before crashing into her arms, our embrace fierce and desperate, like a lifeline grounding me to the here and now, her presence reassuring me that everything will be okay.
"Lanes, I got your texts and voice messages after I finished my final and came straight here," she says, hugging me back before releasing me and placing her hand against my forehead. "What's going on? Did you fall? Are you sick?" Her eyes do a quick scan of my body. "You don't look sick."
I pull her into my room and close the door. "I'm not sick and I didn't hit my head." I gesture toward the table beside my bed. "I've already taken my temperature. If I fell, I don't remember..." I turn my arm over and show her the two bruises I've already given myself. "And I may have pinched myself more than once to ensure this isn't a dream." I see the sadness in her eyes, like I've truly lost my damned mind, and I anxiously shake my hands, trying to think of a quick way to prove what I saw. "Wait, I can show you." I rush over to my bed, where I tossed my phone earlier, and quickly pull up a picture of Trigger Hale. I stalked him the minute I found out his name. I scoured his profiles for hours. I never came across a photo of him with London, but the resemblance between them should be enough to convince her I'm not going mad.
She takes the phone from my hands and sits on the bed, her eyes thoroughly scanning the picture before I see her thumb swipe to the next. "Babe, this isn't London."
"No shit. I know that, but they're related. His name is Trigger Hale. I met him a few days ago, and before I ever found out his name, I thought he bore an uncanny resemblance to London, but for the look you gave me seconds ago, I shoved it out of my mind. I thought I was making something out of nothing, and then I got a name?—"
"Okay." She sets the phone down and rubs her temples. "In your messages, you said you saw London."
"I'm getting there. I ran into Trigg again today at the horseauction with Asha and her family. I was babysitting one of their client's daughters when Trigg found us and invited me to a wedding with him, and before I could answer, London walked up behind us and uninvited me."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing at first. I was too stunned to speak. Same as you, I thought I was losing my mind, but I promise you, Syd, I'm not. He was there. He's here in Bardstown, living on Hale Ranch."
She stands and starts pacing the length of the bed. "Well, did you ask him how that's possible? How he's here and not wasting away behind bars, the way we all thought he was?"
"Did you listen to any of the messages? The name, the wedding, any of it?"
The first message I left wasLondon's here, but he's not London anymore. He goes by the name Dallas, and he's getting married.
She presses her palm to her forehead. "Shit. Yes, I listened to them. I'm sorry. I thought you were having a nervous breakdown, and none of this was real, and now that I'm hearing the facts, I'm…" She drops her hands to her side. "I don't know what I am." She closes the distance between us and hugs me again. "How are you? What are you feeling?"
"That's a good fucking question—one I've been trying to answer for myself all day," I say before taking a seat on my bed. "I thought I'd be sad. It would make sense to feel sadness, considering that's the state I've been living in since everything happened, but I'm not sad anymore. More than anything, I'm mad. I wasted all this time crying over a man that didn't exist, because the one that left me, the one that took a life for me, sure as hell wouldn't be living on a ranch, marrying another woman."
"Good."
"Good?" I question, eyes wide.
"Yes, good. If London has been out here, living his best life all this time, and he's marrying someone else, that man doesn't deserve one of your tears. And that anger you feel…that's exactly what you need to harness your strength. Not all anger is bad. Sometimes, it's the exact power you need to break through the barriers that have been holding you back." She stands and swivels between two doors. "Which one is the closet?"
"The one on the right." She throws open the door, and I can hear the sound of hangers sliding on the racks. It's close to 2 a.m. now. "What are you doing?" I call out. "If you're looking for pajamas, they’re in the dresser out here."
She pops her head around the corner. "Oh, I'm not looking for something to sleep in. I'm looking for your wedding dress."
"Wedding dress?" I question before my brain catches up. "No, Syd. I am not going to that wedding. I told you he uninvited me—not to mention he told me to leave town." That last part still stings.
"You said Trigg invited you. I'm sure if you text him, the invitation still stands, regardless of London's dismissal, and if I'm wrong and this Trigg character doesn't have a thing for you…we'll crash it." She holds a dress up in my direction, looking me up and down to see if it's the one. "But make no mistake, you're going, and you're going to look hot as fuck."
Times like this restore my faith. Her friendship is a blessing—unwavering, never judgmental, always exactly what I need. Whether it's tough love, a shoulder to cry on, or someone to carry the shovel, Syd's always there.
"What we need isn't in this closet," she says, her face set with conviction. "We need a damn yellow dress."
For the first time since seeing London, I feel my lips turn upward as a saying fromThe Last Jedicomes to mind. "Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to." There's enough death in my past. I'd rather wear yellow.
"Areyou sure this is a good idea?" I ask, twisting myfingers in my lap as the car turns onto the main road toward Hale Ranch.
