Page 79 of Sterling Touch
Twelve years.
At twelve years old, Stone became guardian of Vale in a different way. Violet Sylver died giving birth to Vale, and Stone felt responsible to care for his only sister because his father was failing at parenthood.
I tried to help as best I could. He was my best friend. His mother had been a good friend to my mom. Our families were meshed in so many ways.
I often brought Stone home with me. I brought the Sylvers meals. My mom taught Stone how to change diapers, wash a baby, and feed her with a bottle. Instead of abandoning my friend who had taken on this incredible responsibility, I learned along with him.
He had been a good kid who turned into a great man.
And I’d shit all over that friendship in a moment of weakness.
“Anyway,” Vale continues, swiping a finger underneath her eyes, seeking stray mascara while I simply stare at her.
We’ve moved many of our make out sessions and lunch time shenanigans to my bedroom, preserving the kitchen for actual meals. But on occasion, we’ve christened other locations in my house. On the living room floor. On an island stool. On the deck.
“Stone kept up the tradition even as we aged. Even as people moved out. Of course, for the longest time, it was just him and Clay, plus me and Hudson.”
My mouth opens to ask about Judd, their brother who lined up in age with Tate but never became friends with him. Judd works for Sylver Seed & Soil, alongside Clay who still oversees the family business. He turned their simple farm supply storeinto a small empire, not only selling farm necessities but also fashionable garden gifts and housewares along with pet products. While I’ve only been in the place a handful of times, having felt guilty for even crossing their property, I was so fucking proud of the family for breaking through barriers and rising up from the ashes of the loss of their parents.
One from a medical condition. The other from mental illness.
“Judd hadn’t attended until recently,” she clarifies, as if reading my thoughts.
While I’ve been quietly watching her pull herself back together, she’s filled the silence. “But as each brother started dating and falling in love”—she rolls her eyes— “the family gathering has grown enough we needed to add a second picnic table out back.”
The reminder of an original picnic table fills my head. The one where Stone and I often sat, me trying to sympathize with the shit life kept throwing at him. The loss of his mom. The care of his sister. The slow trickle of abuse from his dad.
In college, Stone worried things had gone from bad to worse, but he didn’t know what he could do about it. He needed to pass classes and graduate. He was driven and his vision was to cross the goal line, collect a large check, and help them all.
With me as his best friend at his side, and a girl he loved in his corner, I had no doubt Stone would achieve all he dreamed of accomplishing.
I wasn’t jealous. I was right beside him, only I was fucking every girl who came my way, while reaching for my own golden ticket to a professional football future.
Then everything went to hell.
“So Sundays, I’m home. Making side dishes and covering cleanup while drinking as much wine as I can swallow.” Vale smiles like Sunday is the best day of the week despite all the hustling, and suddenly, Iamenvious of the Sylvers. Of familytime gathering their favorite people. Ofthemspending time with Vale. Even spending time with Hudson, who I’ve grown closer to through coaching, but wish I could know even better.
The truth is that I can never be part of their world.
“Stone’s a good man,” I blurt, releasing twenty-plus years of my opinion. “A better man than me.”
Vale straightens and stares at me. Her hair now in place. Her makeup no longer smudged. Her clothes righted.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because I fucking slept with Bailey.” It’s the same confession I shouted at my best friend in his front yard, needing his forgiveness when I didn’t have a right to ask for it. His world was literally crumbling around him, and I piled another heap of debris on the rubbish of his life.
Vale stares at me, knowing my hard truth. My shameful and inexcusable decision to sleep with my best friend’s girl. Bailey and I were both grieving. We were losing Stone to something neither of us could comprehend. Taking on the responsibility of six younger siblings when we were hardly out of childhood ourselves. He was so much more mature than me. More responsible. More level-headed. A better person, like I said.
“It happened. You both made a choice. Good or bad. Right or wrong,” Vale says, as if it’s that simple. “Sometimes we act irrationally through our grief.”
She speaks like she understands. Like she’s not here to judge me even if she isn’t happy with my indiscretion. Grief makes strange bedfellows.
Like Bailey Cummins coming to my room, both of us devastated and leaning on each other, which led to us to being naked in my bed.
And then to add broken bricks to the already crumbled building, she was pregnant.
One time. They teach you that shit in sex education as akid. I had not believed it. Condoms. The pill. No way through that kind of protection.
