I shift so Trent can see in my eyes that I’m not playing around. “Loving me shouldn’t be this hard. I’m not some love-struck teenager anymore. We’re done. We were done years ago. We were done last month when I broke it off, and we’re done today. Nothing you can say will change that.”

The skin around his blue eyes tightens as he grips my arms. His lips press against mine. Without my telling them to, my arms fly around his neck, and I hold on to him. Our mouths move together, but my heart is pulling away.

This is goodbye for me.

It’s the very last time my lips will touch his.

I was serious when I said I was done.

The desperation in this kiss is crushing. I feel him fighting for me to hold on, but I’ve already let go.

He breaks away first, and leans back enough so he can search my eyes for something. “I’m going to fix this,” he promises. “I’m going to show you how much we belong together. I know I’ve messed up. I’ve given you every reason to walk away. But I can’t lose you.”

“Why?” I ask. This is what has me baffled. Why fight for me now when, a week ago, he was so willing to throw me away? “Why now?”

Trent’s hand brushes my cheek. “Because you’re mine. You’re my girl.”

I shake my head. “That’s where you’re wrong.” I grip his hand and remove it before gathering all the strength I have. It’s time to put “the end” on the end of our story. “I’m not yours, Trent.”

My legs feel weak, but I find a way to turn and walk away. Tears fill my vision as my heart plummets. I ache with each step I take, but I keep going and let a single bead of pain slide down my cheek as I leave my past behind me.

* * *

“H ere’s to the bride and groom!” I raise my glass to my best friend and her new husband. Everyone repeats what I say as we drink to Presley and Zach.

When I scan the room, I fake a smile, which falls the second I meet Trent’s gaze. The pain I feel inside is reflected back at me. The air in the room is gone, and I swear that time stands still. He stares at me as he runs his hands through his sandy-blond hair, shifting slightly in his seat but refusing to break eye contact. He exudes confidence and masculinity all wrapped in a whole lot of heartache.

I should look away. I should stand, walk out, and stop this right now, but I can’t tear my eyes from him. I’m the definition of insanity, constantly doing the same thing and expecting a different result. There will never be a different result. I’m tired of being tired. More than anything, I’m tired of being rejected. I may be done, but old habits die hard, and he’s the oldest habit I have.

“Hey,” Angie, Wyatt’s wife, nudges me, “stop looking at him. He’s not worth another second of your time, right?”

“I know. I wish things could be different. I wish he was different.” The admission hurts.

“He’s never going to change,” Angie reminds me.

Even though Angie and I haven’t been friends very long, she knows more about what’s been going on with Trent than anyone. We bumped into each other a few months ago and ended up going to lunch, which was where I told her everything. How hurt I was and how I’d considered dating someone else, which was—and still is—unbelievably dumb, considering that someone else happens to be my best friend’s brother.

In my defense, it’s not as if there are many choices. Growing up in Bell Buckle has its challenges, like the lack of any sort of privacy, a very small dating pool, and the inability to avoid people. Angie gets it and is probably the only soul I know who would let me say all I needed to say without judgment.

It’s insane.

It’s frustrating.

It’s small-town living.

“I hate him,” I tell Angie with tears in my eyes.

“No, you don’t, but you should.”

She’s right. I had hoped, in some crazy part of my heart, that Trent would love me the same, but clearly, I was wrong.

“It’s like he only sees me now because I’ve walked away for good.” I grab the glass of wine and toss it back.

Angie takes my hand. “It’s because you don’t ever make him see anything else.” She straightens in her seat. “Look, I’m far from the world’s expert on men. I’ve been married for like, a second, but when Wyatt pushed me away to the point I couldn’t endure anymore, I left. It was a way to force him to decide whether our love was worth it. You gotta do the same, babe. You can’t live like this. You’re freaking gorgeous and no man should treat you like less than his everything. So make him see that you’re not waiting anymore.”

That in and of itself is another reason I like and trust this woman. She is fiercely independent and has way more courage than I do. She and Wyatt have been through absolute hell. Their relationship went downhill, but she was so much braver than I ever could be. When Wyatt pushed her, she packed her shit and left. I wish I were that strong. However, he did right by her in the end. Wyatt gave up everything to win her back.

“I’m not like you.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Her eyes move around the room and then stop. “There’s someone here who sees you. I mean really sees you.”

I turn in my seat just enough to find who she’s looking at, and I swear my stomach gives a tiny flutter. Cooper Townsend. “I can’t.” I turn back to her, shaking my head in negation. “We’ve been over this. First, he’s Presley’s brother!” I whisper-yell. “Second, even if I’m done with Trent, I still love him.”

Her eyes fill with empathy. “I know you do. Cooper knows you do, too. It’s why he hasn’t pushed harder. The man isn’t blind, but maybe there’s a chance?”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

Angie’s shoulders rise and then fall. “I think Cooper is more than willing to take that chance. I think he’d have a lot of fun pissing off my brother-in-law as well. There’s no love lost between those two.”

That was an understatement if I’d ever heard one. Cooper and Trent may have been friends their whole lives, but they don’t see eye to eye on almost anything. Over the last month, it’s been even worse. I think Trent knows that Cooper’s feelings for me surpass friendship. The thought makes me sigh. My life is a Southern version of a soap opera.