Back to You. Lauren Dane

She hadn’t meant to say it, but once the words came out, she was glad she had.

      “I’m sorry. For...a lot.”

      For a lot. Kelly sighed, exhausted and utterly fed up. The trickle of anger she’d been dealing with all day began to flow a lot more freely. Eight years and he still couldn’t just say it out loud.

      “You’re not saying anything,” Vaughan said.

      Kelly stared at him, blinking. She couldn’t have imagined anything worse for him to say at that moment. “You’re going to take that tone with me? Where the fuck have you been, Vaughan? Huh? Are you kidding me with this?”

      He jerked back a little. In the past, this would have been the place she’d have apologized, even though she wasn’t at fault for anything. An ingrained response to keep her mother calm that she’d taken with her from childhood like a tic.

      But she closed her mouth and refused to say she was sorry when she was most definitely not. Anger had sharpened parts of the pain of their breakup she thought she’d left in the past.

      And instead of running from it, she let it slice through her. She needed to never forget what loving this man had cost her. Though she’d never trade the pleasure they’d shared to erase the pain, she couldn’t allow herself to pretend it was safe to trust him without cost.

      She wasn’t willing to pay it. Not again. Not even with a lot more years and experience under her belt. She was completely beyond her ability and she couldn’t once again be in a relationship where she was far more deeply committed and invested than her partner was.

      “So, okay, then. You don’t accept my apology. And I understand.”

      For real? The man avoided all of this stuff for years and years and suddenly he decided to talk about it? And she was supposed to simply accept it and jump in where he was without protest?

      Without even her input on whether or not she even wanted to do this right then? Ugh, his ego was insufferable. And hot, but right then insufferable. “Oh, you do?”

      His eyes widened. “You’re mad.” He said it with surprise. As if he hadn’t even considered that as one of her reactions. Kelly really wished she’d have tucked a bottle of gin out here. Chocolate wasn’t enough for this.

      “Yes, I’m mad!”

      “That I finally apologized?”

      Years later and this was how he decided to say he was sorry? No, worse, this was what he thought saying he was sorry looked like. Maybe it was that she had terrible taste in men. She needed to use one of those matchmakers. They’d do the choosing and she could avoid everyone who made her want to punch them in the junk.

      But at the moment, the audacity fueled her and she gave it free rein. “I should have known that when you finally got around to it—eight years later—you’d be pissed off that someone told you to own your shit.”

      She took a few moments to find the right way to say the next bit. “I’m sorry for a lot means everything and nothing at all. You should be sorry for both, I guess. But you’re here in my house and you’re acting weird and apologizing for nothing and everything and I want to know what is wrong with you?”

      “I want to know what’s wrong with you,” he countered.

      It would be easy to let her anger turn her into her mother. To give over to an existence that was a torrent of negativity. It was why she rarely let herself get mad. Anger was a drug. It messed up everything in your life and for everyone in it. It was a cancer. And even in small doses it was a luxury she hadn’t been able to afford.

      Carefully now, though, she was ready to let some of it free. It wasn’t overwhelming, it was...real. Real enough to not get swayed by his looks, or the way she loved him still, so very much.

      Pissed off was a good defense against his charm and it wasn’t junk punching, so it was a good compromise.

      “You haven’t changed at all.” Which made her tired and sad. She moved to the hatch but he intercepted her, a hand at her wrist. The cramped space was usually comfortable, but right then it was confining.

      “How can you say that?” He’d shifted so that he remained between her and the hatch to leave.

      “Shouldn’t you be off to your show soon?” Kelly looked at a spot just over his right shoulder, telling herself it didn’t matter that he was either blind to what was happening or that he was willing to let her walk away because he couldn’t be frank.

      “Not until we talk. How can you say I haven’t changed? That’s unfair, Kelly.”

      She shifted her attention from that spot over his shoulder to his eyes. “This entire conversation is making me really cranky.”

      Kelly spun the ring she wore on her middle finger. The familiarity of the movement enabled her to get her words together. She hoped he really listened.

      “If I recall correctly, we had a version of this non-conversation conversation complete with a non-apology apology years ago. You didn’t have the balls to say what you did out loud then, either. Still getting pissy that someone other than your mother was calling you on it. Lucky for you, she’s still your number one girl and she’s just inside. Save your bullshit for her.”

      Yeah, it was harsh, but no less truthful for it.

      “That’s mean,” Vaughan said.

      “Mean? Fuck you, Vaughan. That woman called me a whore. Because her precious son fucked his marriage up and then never had the decency to tell her the whole truth. She’s in my house, after eating at my table. For that matter, you’re in my house, too, and I haven’t set either one of you on fire yet. I’m not mean. But I’m not a doormat. Not anymore. You may not have changed, but I have.”

      He paused. “I’m sorry I brought this up right now. Sorry because I have to leave shortly for the arena, like you said. Sorry because I want to talk to you honestly but now isn’t the time.”

      “It never is.” She pushed against his restraining hand and he let go, moving aside so she could get out of there. Once her feet hit the grass, she hurried back inside, leaving him to do whatever it was he needed to do.

      That little discussion up in the tree house had been some sort of epiphany. For years she’d told herself it didn’t matter. That it was over and done. That she had to focus on her children and building her business. And she did need to do those things. To do them still.

      But this...mad bubbling up from her belly was cathartic. Invigorating. She had to call Stacey to give her the news. Her best friend had been telling Kelly for years to get mad. Now that she had, it made a difference.

      Stacey would say I told you so, but it was cool. Kelly would have in her friend’s place, as well.

       CHAPTER THREE

      “BEFORE WE GO out there and kick ass with this last show, you want to tell me what you’re up to?” Ezra, Vaughan’s oldest brother and someone he trusted implicitly, didn’t look up from his case where he’d just pulled out his guitar and handed it off to his guitar tech. They were backstage, just minutes out from showtime. Ez had some sort of meditation-type thing he did now instead of being fucked up so he radiated solid calm. Utter confidence and capability.

      Just being around Ezra made Vaughan feel better. More focused. Everyone seemed to react that way around the oldest Hurley son.

      Though Ezra had stumbled into the pit of addiction, he’d fought his way back. He was stronger than anyone Vaughan knew. Protective of those he loved. Vaughan had already gone to him just that afternoon for some advice, but it helped to bounce his thoughts off his brother’s brain.

      “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today. After you