“That’s because he treated Rain like shit from day one. Tria knew him as a father for eighteen years of her life. Eleanor loved him for a really long time, even when he tried to make her hate him. Any idea what’s in these letters?”
He shakes his head. “Rain wasn’t ready to read hers just yet. She wanted to wait until she had some liquor. Eleanor retreated to her room after giving me Tria’s, and Rain hugged her goodbye. I figured I’d give her space to get drunk and read it.”
I nod, because there’s nothing to really say. Bashing the guy now that he’s dead seems pointless.
“I don’t think we should tell the truth. Rain will be devastated. I don’t want her to lose her best friend. Would you want Tria to lose someone she has thought of as her best friend for six years?”
Looking down shamefully, I stare at my feet, unable to even face the picture of Tria now.
“I was only her best friend because I knocked you out of the picture.”
Dane sighs long and loud. “No, Kode. You didn’t do that on your own. You provided a speed bump. That’s all it should have been. She and I were ridiculous by letting our pride get in the way. But we were eighteen. And sometimes, as you know, you make stupid decisions when you’re young based on immature emotions, and then you stick with them because you rationalize the reasons in your mind. It’s a hell of a lot harder to swallow your pride and face something after time begins to pass.”
That’s the fucking truth.
“I wish I had never gone back out to the car that day.”
Dane laughs humorlessly. “That makes two of us.”
The door opens and closes, silencing us as Tria walks in, her eyes wide. Apparently she has already seen Dane’s car in the driveway.
“Tria,” Dane says, standing and fidgeting nervously before pocketing his hands again.
“Dane.” She stands taller, keeping his gaze. I’m pretty sure she’s on the defensive right now, considering she won’t let anyone run their mouths about us. She knows how real we are, and she’s got my back.
I’ll never forget the day she stuck Maverick in his place. He won’t ever forget it either.
“I wanted to apologize about what happened at the funeral,” Dane continues, looking as shameful as I’ve ever seen him look before. “It was sure as hell the wrong place and time, and I acted like an idiot kid instead of an adult. I’m sorry.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, staring at him like she’ll rip him in half if he’s says the wrong thing right now. It’s so fucking hot.
“Rain is really excited about this,” she tells him. “I wish everyone could have that reaction.”
Surprisingly, Rain is the biggest fan out there of our relationship. Maybe Dane is right about letting our past bullshit die with the lie.
“I know Rain is happy,” Dane says, smiling at her. “So am I. But I’m also a self-centered jerk sometimes. I’m human, after all. Never said I was perfect.”
She tenses noticeably, like there’s something in there she didn’t like to hear. “No one is perfect,” she finally says, letting her eyes meet mine briefly, but then she returns her gaze to my brother. “Sorry I flipped you off in the cemetery.”
Dane bursts out laughing, and I smother my snickers with my hand while Tria bites back a grin.
“I deserved it,” Dane says when at last his laughter fades.
She shrugs, seeming to agree with him, and she reduces the distance between us quickly, moving to my side where I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me. Dane turns to smile at us.
“I’ll be taking off. I guess I’ll see you two soon.”
“Yeah,” I say as he walks away.
Tria sighs as the door shuts behind him, and she angles her head to look up at me.
“I didn’t know what I’d be walking into when I saw his car.”
Obviously I’m just as relieved.
“The guys got to him. They told him how I really feel about you. I actually think we’re cool again for the first time in a while.”
I’m careful not to bring Rain’s name into anything. It’s the smartest thing to do.
“Did he tell you the wedding has been pushed back two weeks? It’ll be a total of three weeks before we can officially go public,” she teases, smiling up at me with her long lashes looking close to her cheeks.
“Ha. I think we’re very much public now.” Sighing, I hand her the envelope before I change my mind and do something stupid like rip it up—been there, done that, not a good idea. I’d love to save her some pain, but I’ve learned my lesson about interfering with damn letters.