Chapter 2

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~Rachel's P.O.V.~

"You don't think it's too sexy?" I ask Thatcher, standing in front of the mirror in XV.

The dress I have on is short, black, and tight. Everything Thatch thinks will drive a straight man insane. It has tight long sleeves but they're sheer material. The neckline is high as well, but also sheer black.

"I think you look great." He says. "And I found these on the wall, I think you need them also." He holds up a pair of dark maroon heels with an X strap, something I wouldn't pick for myself.

I smile and take them from him, stepping into the shoes. Immediately I grow five inches, eye level with Thatch. He crosses his arms and looks at our reflections in the mirror.

"Well I'll be, you're prettier than a magnolia in May." He says, and I laugh at his reference. Sometimes without knowing it Thatcher regresses back to his southern upbringing.

"Okay but does it cover these?" I ask him, referring to my scarred forearms.

They're still pretty scarred up from the glass. Of course they've faded but it's all anyone ever sees. Except Marshall. Instantly, I dismiss the thought. I can't be thinking about him like this all the time, when is it gonna click for me that I left him.

"Darlin' it doesn't matter." He reassures. "Trust me in this number, no one's gonna be looking at your arms."

I smile to myself. I'll admit, it does look good on me. I turn my back to the mirror and look over my shoulder. It is rather short, but long enough to still look decent. This is something Ren would have.

"Plus I think the diamond adds an elegance to it." He says, pointing with his chin to my necklace.

My hand flies up to it, holding it gently in my hand. Marshall gave this to me. For Christmas, the day of the attack. I get nostalgic looking at it, it hurts a lot more than I thought it would. I always thought if I was the one to walk away, it wouldn't affect me. I've never been more wrong.

"Marshall gave it to me." I tell him, tilting my head sideways in the mirror.

Thatcher sighs a big breath. "Honey just call the poor guy he's miserable." He sounds exasperated, I think he's secretly rooting for Marshall.

"You know I can't do that." I raise a brow at him and take his hand for balance, stepping out of my shoes. "It's not fair."

"No. What isn't fair is ditching him without even giving the guy an explanation." He says in a brotherly, non hostile way.

"I tried to explain it to him." I tell him. "He wouldn't listen."

"Rach I love you, and it's because I love you that it's my job to tell you when you're being stupid." He widens his eyes. "This is one of those times."

"I can't just go back Thatch, I don't know if that's what he wants and I don't know if that's what I want."

"But you could want it." He tries again, holding the shoes. "You have to give him another chance."

"I haven't talked to him in a month Thatch, I don't know how he feels." At this point, I wish he'd just stop talking about it. He's confusing me.

"You still love him though, he'll take you back." He says, unzipping my dress for me and then turning around.

I think Thatcher subconsciously wants a happy ending. He wants someone to have a happy ending even if it isn't him. His ever after was taken from him and I think he sympathizes with Marshall. And in all honesty, I'm not going to try and stop him.

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