Guilt is what they call it, dumbass. Just what I need, heaped on top of all the other bullshit that my life has become.
He braced himself on the wall in the hallway as the dizziness assailed him again and frowned when he found her waiting for him at the door, with a sack in her hand. Her emotions were closed off to him and she only glanced into his eyes for a moment, but it was long enough to see the hurt that was there.
“I’m really sorry, Lucy. I know you don’t want to hear it but I am.”
She shrugged one shoulder and held out the Batson’s Grocery Store bag to him without looking at him. “I had some extra chicken noodle soup and crackers. There’s also a bottle of Sprite in there. You need to make sure you get lots of fluids and rest. Do you need me to come take care of Cooter for you?”
Still trying to take care of me, despite the fact that I’ve been a shit to her. I don’t deserve her as a friend much less as anything else.
“You don’t have to do that, Lucy. Cooter is pretty low maintenance. And thank you…for this,” he added, taking the bag from her.
“Fine.” She nodded and swung the door closed as he stepped over the threshold. The deadbolt shot home, and the chain slid into place a second later, and those sounds echoed in his ears as he stumbled to the truck and rode in silence with Patrick for several minutes. She’d wanted him to stay until he’d fucked it all up.
He’d lost Chloe—for good this time. There was no going back to what had been. No second chance. And now here he was alienating people left and right. Worst of all, it was his two best friends he was hurting.
He didn’t really spend much time around others. He hung out with the larger group of their friends only because Lucy and Patrick pushed him to. Being around happy people hurt somehow. There were days when he thought he might never know how it felt to be happy again.
The aches and pains in his body combined with the hurt he felt to the bottom of his soul, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and die.
“Do you want to come home with me or go home?” Patrick asked in a terse voice.
“Home. I need to check on Cooter anyway.”
His old bulldog had plenty of shelter, and his own doggy door onto the covered back porch of his older farmhouse, so he didn’t worry much. He could come and go as he needed to but the storm might have gotten him stirred up some. He also needed to check on his girls—his honeybees—but that would have to wait until the weather settled down. Maybe if he felt better around lunchtime the next day he’d go out and see them.
“You sure? You look like hell, man.”
Beck gave a small shake of his head. “No. Wouldn’t be right to expose the little man to this bug.”
“We’ve both had our shots and I think he had a small case of it a few weeks ago, anyway.”
“Good, then I won’t have to worry. I just need to be alone right now. Need to sleep this whatever-the-hell-I-have off. Need to…think.”
“You already spend enough time alone, but I understand. Are you going to tell me or not? Was it Chloe?”
“Yes.” He raked his fingers through his still-damp hair, wanting to tear it out by the roots.
“Did she have news for you?”
Chloe’s voice echoed in his head. “You are a good man, Beck. I know there is someone special out there, just waiting for you. I know you’re going to find her.”
“Well?”
“She got engaged tonight. She wanted me to know in case word got back to one of your friends.”
Patrick let out a long sigh. “They’re your friends, too. I’m sorry, man.”
Beck didn’t say anything else on the trip home even when Patrick tried to draw him out. His voice seemed to come from a long distance and Beck couldn’t understand him and didn’t try hard to do so. Eventually, Patrick nudged him and he realized they’d made it to his place a couple of miles outside of Divine.
“Thanks, Patrick.”
Patrick peered at him out of the driver’s window as he stumbled through a puddle to the walkway leading to the house. Chloe had planted vivid red hummingbird salvia the year before in a large flowerbed nearby, telling him that his honeybees would love it, and they had. The winter and lack of care had reduced all those plants to wasted brown clumps dotting the mulched bed.
“I’ll bring your truck and check on you tomorrow after work,” Patrick called as Beck trudged up the path, ignoring the rain that still fell. He waved a hand but didn’t look back or reply. He didn’t need to go anywhere so he could’ve cared less about the truck. He pulled the key ring from his pocket and the diamond in Chloe’s engagement ring glinted in the porch light as he fiddled around for the key to the front door. Now that he was finally alone, the hole in his heart tore a little more.