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“You’re right, but the thing is…Robyn was aware of everything. She knew we were all competing for her, and she played into it. It was funny and lighthearted…until she moved up onto the mountain.”
“Did all three of you…sleep with her?” Trista asks, her voice full of horror.
“Not like that,” I exclaim defensively. “Not at the same fucking time or anything. Jesus Christ, no. And actually, part of the bet meant we had to promise not to sleep with her.”
“So then what happened?”
My cheeks puff out as I blow out a long breath. “One by one, we all broke the promise.”
“Ick,”Trista groans and pinches the bridge of her nose. I hate that I have to tell her this. I hate that this is a part of my past. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it shaped a lot of who I am today.
“The worst part was we all kept it a secret from each other. All three of us hid it, so we never knew what was going on. The only person who knew the truth about all of it was Robyn. And that’s because she had a bet of her own.”
“Triple ick.”
I nod slowly because she was fulfilling her own fantasy at the time, and we were all just falling for her. She was a spitfire, absolutely gorgeous, sassy, yet could be sweet, and hot in bed. And she knew it.Used it.I’m not sure Robyn ever truly cared about any of us.
“We all knew we were getting in too deep. We were sneaking around behind each other’s backs. We were fighting on jobsites pretty regularly. It was bad. My brothers and I didn’t speak for the months while this bet dragged on, and my dad knew something was up, but none of us were talking. It was that game of chicken again, but this time…it wasn’t just flirty banter at the bar.”
“Were you in love with her?” Trista asks, a rare glimpse of vulnerability on her face as she asks the question that I must begrudgingly nod to.
“I didn’t want to fall for her. But we did a weekend away at this cabin of her friends, and I just thought…this is the girl of my dreams. The girl I could marry. No woman had ever affected me the way she did. But it was that same weekend that she told me she loved someone else. And I just knew…my gut told me it was one of my brothers. But no matter how much I asked, she wouldn’t say.”
“Ugh, this is painful,” Trista says, shaking her shoulders. “This woman sounds like the absolute worst. Did she not care that she was likely ripping apart an entire family?”
“I guess not. But it was just as much our fault as hers. We were horrible to each other. Max wouldn’t even let us see Everly until we got our shit together. I even considered selling the mountain because I couldn’t stand it up here with them.”
“Holy shit,” Trista says, seeming even more shocked by that reveal than all the rest of the stuff. “This is all just so hard to wrap my head around because you’re all so close now.”
“It took some time and serious effort to get to where we are. We do an annual bonding thing every year to keep it that way. And I hate that I still struggle to trust my brothers, but I need you to know it has nothing to do with you…it’s them. And it’s her. And it’s why I don’t date. Trusting women in a romantic sense is just impossible for me.”
Trista watches me for a long, quiet moment, and her voice is soft when she asks, “Is she the one who got away?”
“That’s a hard question for me to answer,” I reply with a cringe. “Usually ‘the one who got away’ is portrayed in films as these beautiful, heroic characters that a person loves until the end of time. Robyn is a very different situation. For me…Robyn is just pain.”
I exhale heavily at that admission. In fairness, I’m not sure Robyn set out to hurt me. I think she was in such a dark place in her life that the attention of the three of us felt like a stimulant to feel better about herself.
I was plagued with self-doubt and self-hatred, but even though it was wrong, having all three of you want me did wonders for my nonexistent self-esteem. You and your brothers…healed me.
Not the sort of thing you want to read in a letter from the woman you thought you loved.
“Do you still talk to her?” Trista asks, and I see a wave of nerves pass over her eyes.
I shake my head. “Not really. She’s called a few times throughoutthe years and showed up unannounced once. But Calder put goat shit in the back seat of her car, so I think she got the hint that she’s not welcome up here.”
The corner of Trista’s mouth quirks up into a smirk as she drags her hand down my arm. “You sound like a country song. Brokenhearted mountain man living alone with his goat thinking about the one who got away.”
I scoff. “Sounds like a terrible song. And I’m fine now. I’m not pining for her. It just took me a while to realize that I can still have a family without a wife. I mean, not physically, obviously. That’s why I need you. But emotionally, financially, I can do this. I can be a good dad on my own. I don’t need a partnership to have this.”
The words feel harder to get out after revisiting old wounds. The memories of the torment the three of us went through are not something I like to think about. So much mistrust and hair-trigger reactions. An acute sense of betrayal from my closest friends. My brothers. It was awful. I loathed the sight of Calder and the ease with which he walked through life during all that. I hated watching Luke’s confidence grow with Robyn’s attention. It was sick how I let a woman draw me in so much I began to resent my own blood. Thinking about it shrouds me in shame. I’m the oldest of us three. I should have known better.
But time has healed our wounds. We’re solid again like we were when we first moved onto the mountain. And our Dark Night tradition keeps us all in check. That’s why I’ve chosen to never let another woman near my heart again. Yes, my parents had had an incredible marriage. And watching Max become sickeningly happy with Cozy and have another kid has been inspiring. But it’s just not worth the risk of putting myself through that kind of stress again.
If all I have in life is this mountain, my brothers, and hopefully a child…then I will want for nothing.
Trista’s hands move to her belly, a thing she doesn’t do very often. My eyes shoot to hers. “Are you feeling the baby move?” I ask, hope laced in my voice. The doctor said it could take up to twenty-four weeks before she feels anything, but a lot of the books I’ve been reading say she could be feeling stuff by now.
She shakes her head sadly. “No. Still nothing. Sorry.”
