by Geneva Lee
“Now I’m really worried,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s just that everything’s different,” I confessed. “I’m not very good at this whole mum thing. I’m sure you heard.”
“I only heard that you are stressed. No one—including Smith—said a thing about your skills as a mother. Besides, it’s not like it’s not a huge transition. Would you start any new job and expect to be good at it on the first day?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it’s supposed to be like when you become a mom.” At least that’s how it felt to me. “Look at Clara.
“Clara has nothing else to do,” Edward muttered. “My brother sees to that.”
“She’s a good mom,” I said, shifting the conversation away from Alexander and back to my original point. I’d unintentionally hit his sore spot. But if he was going to force me to confront the ugly things I tried to hide inside myself, then I needed to do the same for him.
He hesitated. “She is.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked him. We’d skirted around the topic the last time I saw him in London. Then, he’d been simmering on a low boil, any moment I’d expected him to explode. It was there under the surface all the time. I no longer sensed that. That didn’t mean that every time the conversation touched on his brother or his late husband, I didn’t spy some of that undercurrent of anger, though.
“I’m trying to make peace with the fact that I’ll never know why,” he said in a gruff voice. “I don’t think there’s anything else I can do.”
“You started to tell me something,” I said thoughtfully as we paused so I could adjust Penny’s blanket and double check to be sure that the pram’s canopy blocked any possible wind. Her cheeks were slightly rosy, but all indications were that she was warm enough. “You said that the worst part was that sometimes and then Smith showed up before you could tell me.”
"I’ll confess if you will,” he said.
“What do I have to confess?” I asked.
“I won’t pretend that I’m healed or that I’m over it. I am happy sometimes now. Other days, I don’t want to get out of bed,” he admitted to me. “The most important thing I did was I stopped keeping all of the terrible thoughts I had locked away.” He paused, giving me a pointed look as we reached the Briar Rose Inn.
“Do you want me to tell you all my crazy thoughts?”
“It’s a good sign that you see them as crazy. That means that you don’t believe them,” he murmured. “But yes. I promise I won’t judge you.”
I glanced at Penny sleeping peacefully in her pram and wondered if that were true or if it was a pretty lie we told each other? That you loved them unconditionally. That you would never think less of them. But how true could that actually be? How often was that kind of promise tested? The truth was that most of the time people didn’t test those boundaries. They pleased their parents. They apologized. They made up with their spouse instead of holding on to anger. As much as I wanted to believe that humans were capable of that kind of unconditional acceptance, I knew we were also capable of holding grudges.
“Like you don’t judge Alexander?”
Edward’s eyes flashed, but before he could spit out whatever had boiled over inside him, Tomas opened the door to the restaurant.
“Are you going to stand out there with that baby or come inside?” he asked, waving us in the restaurant.
The momentary distraction gave both of us a moment to cool off as we got Penny out and carried her inside, parking the pram at the door.
“Hello,” Tomas said, sticking out his hand to Edward. “I’m Tomas. Belle’s favorite person in Briarshead.”
“You’re the only person I know in Briarshead,” I reminded him.
“As I said, at the top, no?”
“Edward.” He took Tomas’s outstretched hand and shook it, but I spotted the bit of hesitation on his face. Edward waited for the moment of recognition, but Tomas continued on obliviously.
“In for a visit?” Thomas asked as he showed us to what he called the best seat in the house. Given that the house was empty, any seat would do. I couldn’t help worrying a little that despite Tomas’s obvious talent, the villagers of Briarshead didn’t appreciate the restaurant for what it could offer them.
“I just got back into town,” Edward said a bit dryly, he shot me a look over Tomas’s shoulder as if to say is this really happening?
“Staying for the holidays?”
“Yeah, although not sure there will be much excitement,” Edward said, directing his teasing at me. “My best friend suddenly spends all day with the baby and falls asleep by nine. It’s not going to be quite the same holiday season as last year.”
I waited for Edward to piece together what he had just said. Every time Christmas and the holidays had come up there was a momentary pause, and even though he didn’t always say anything, I knew he was thinking of last year. Life had been different then. We’d been in Scotland planning his surprise wedding to David. Now David was gone and he’d left a legacy of tragedy in his wake. But whether Edward was too distracted—puzzling out if Tomas was purposefully playing dumb or really didn’t know who he was— his good mood seemed to return.
“Well, if you get bored, come down here and have a pint with me,” Tomas offered. “The village does tend to settle down in the evenings, but there’s a pub that stays open late enough. It’s warm. Although the food’s not as good as mine, so you might have to convince me to open the kitchen back up if we drink too much.”
“Speaking of.” I took the chance to interrupt whatever was happening between the two of them. “Can we have some of those stuffed dates?”
“Coming right up, but I’m choosing the rest of your meal,” Tomas said mischievously.
“But I wanted the fish and chips,” I said in a dry voice.
His only answer was a groan as he stomped back to the kitchen, pretending to be upset.
Across from me, Edward raised an eyebrow.
“His culinary skills are lost on the people here,” I explained to my friend. “Also, the first time I met him, I thought he was flirting with me, but…”
“He just asked me out for a drink,” Edward said, grinning despite himself.
“I’ve been out of the game too long,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t realize he’s gay.”
“You’re just distracted,” he said reassuringly. “You mistook his obvious good taste and thus interest in you for being interested in you.”
“Is that it?” I found myself laughing. That was a mistake, because Penny stirred, letting out a kitten-like cry of frustration before burying her nose back and forth in Edward’s shoulder.
“I think that means she wants you,” he said, passing her to me.
It took a couple of tries to get her on the breast. She seemed more frustrated than usual, leaving me feeling frustrated as well. But having Edward with me made it easier. He distracted me by telling me ridiculous stories about his time in Italy. It turns out that while he took a cooking class, he couldn’t claim to be a good cook by any measurable standard. In fact, judging from the stories, he seemed to have a natural aversion to cooking.
Tomas joined us, bringing a half dozen artfully arranged dates, wrapped in bacon, on a plate. He paused to take a seat to listen to the end of a disastrous tale that involved Edward mistaking sugar for salt in a recipe.
“I think you better let me do the cooking,” he said.
“What about me?” I asked, finally relaxed as Penny nursed.
“You’re too fabulous to cook,” Tomas said with the air of a man who recognized such things. “If you don’t have a cook of your own, I’ll come to be your cook.”
“I don’t think Mrs. Winters is going anywhere,” I said.
“Abigail?” Tomas repeated. “I didn’t know she took a position.”
“You know her?” It was a silly thing to ask. Of course he knew her. Everyone knew everyone in Briarshead. That was what happened w
hen you lived in a small village.
“Sure,” he said. “The Winters family has lived here nearly as long as my family has. She went off for a while, worked at some houses in London, and then she came back here. She definitely keeps to herself.”
“Unless she has an opinion on what you’re doing,” I said dryly.
“I think you’ll find most of the people in the village will let you know if they have an opinion on what you’re doing.” He smirked as he stood up. “I better go get lunch going. I need to make sure he eats. It sounds better if we don’t allow him to cook.”
As soon just as he disappeared to the back I waggled my eyebrows at Edward. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
“He’s cute,” I pressed. He was more than cute, Tomas was hot. I thought he was attractive the first time I’d met him, but suffering under the delusion that he was hitting on me had left me careful to keep my eyes to myself. Since I found out there was no harm, I could take a better look. “You two would be adorable together.”
Edward answered with a tight smile. “I’m not ready for that.”
"Sorry,” I said, instantly feeling terrible. “That was insensitive to me.
“I guess there’s no right way or wrong way to do this. It’s not like I can tell you when I’ll be ready,” he said, suddenly sounding glum. “I won’t know until I am.”
“Until then, I’ll go for a pint with you anytime,” I offered.
"I might go for a quick drink,” Edward said, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Especially if he’s willing to cook for me. He’s right. I’m totally rubbish at it.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon catching up. As we finished the gigantic slice of chocolate cake Tomas brought us before disappearing to prep dinner, Edward poked at a few crumbs with his fork.
“I think I would’ve forgiven him,” he said in a quiet voice.
“What?” I asked, not sure I heard him correctly.
“You asked me what I was going to say that day in London. That’s the worst part,” he admitted. “I think I would’ve forgiven him if he told me. I would’ve tried to help. I don’t know what I could’ve done. I keep thinking about it. Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Maybe he didn’t want to put you in that situation,” I offered gently. I scooped a bit of chocolate frosting onto my fork and deposited in my mouth. We might need a second slice of cake for this discussion.
“I tell myself that. I tell myself that he wanted to tell me. But it doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t. It doesn’t change what he did to Clara or Alexander. It doesn’t change what he was willing to do to William.” Edward swallowed hard. “That’s why I can’t see them. Because I’m angry that I didn’t get to say goodbye to my husband. I’m angry because Alexander took him from me. But I also feel guilty every time I think about my nephew. I should’ve known. I should have protected him and Clara. What would’ve happened if they hadn’t found her?”
I reached a hand across the table taking his in mine and squeezed it. “But they did find them,” I said in a soft voice. “They're healthy. They’re safe. You can’t punish yourself for the choices that he made. And you should never, ever feel badly for loving someone, even if they didn’t deserve you. That’s their mistake, not yours.”
I knew a thing or two about loving someone who saw themselves as irredeemable. I’d watched Smith struggle to become the man he was today. But I didn’t just learn to love him despite the beast inside him, I learned to love the beast, too.
“I kinda think you need to take your own advice,” Edward said meaningfully.
“I do now, huh?” I shifted, moving Penny onto my other shoulder.
“Stop beating yourself up. Stop punishing yourself. And stop punishing Smith.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with—”
“You’re punishing him for loving you,” Edward murmured. “I can see it. You’re hurting. You’re not yourself. I have faith that you’re going to find yourself again. So does Smith. That’s why he called me. He would do anything for you.
“He’s keeping secrets from me,” I told him.
“Word of advice? Just ask him about them,” Edward said. “Don’t make that mistake. And stop believing the lies your depression is telling you. You deserve love. You deserve magic. You deserve the happily-ever-after.”
I wanted that to be true more than anything. Maybe I couldn’t believe it now, but I was determined to find my way back to myself, to Smith, to Penny. Because I wanted my happily-ever-after, and I was ready to fight for it.
23
Smith
After another dinner, it was clear that Edward had been right about winning over Mrs. Winters. His praise of her roast chicken had actually made her blush, and he was either talking a good game about learning how to cook or he meant it. I couldn’t be sure which.
Since his arrival, the atmosphere in the house felt lighter. I couldn’t deny that he’d put everyone in a good mood, particularly my wife.
Part of me resented the easy banter he had with Belle. It felt like a lifetime since I’d heard her laugh. But that was only a small, petty piece of me. Honestly, I was relieved. Nora had left to spend Christmas with her family and would be gone for a few days, so I rose as Mrs. Winters came to clear the plates and announced my intention to go check on Penny.
Before I could step away from the table, Edward jumped up, glaring at Belle “Let me do it,” he said. "I haven’t gotten enough one-on-one time with the new girl in my life.”
“I’ve got it.” I waved off the offer. I’d asked him to come here to look after Belle, and he was doing an excellent job of it. I couldn’t expect him to fill in for the nanny, too.
But to my surprise, Belle piped up.
“I wouldn’t fight him on it,” she told me. “He thinks Penny hung the moon, and I’m pretty sure she thinks Uncle Edward is the moon.”
This wasn’t news to me. The two of them had spent the last couple of days popping about town, coming home with arms loaded with packages, and I hadn’t heard a whisper of trouble despite the fact that they took the baby almost every trip. Maybe Edward had a magic touch that extended not only to his best friend, but to our daughter, as well. I found myself grateful that he was here, even though Belle preferred his company to my own.
“Are you certain?” There had to be something a grown man wanted to do more than babysit.
Edward headed toward the door, pausing to clap one hand on my shoulder. He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I think you two could use some alone time.”
I wasn’t sure if it was a suggestion or a threat. Alone time with my wife sounded incredible. Too good to be true, really. Of course, it was just as likely that she wanted to have it out with me in private. I wasn’t certain that Edward was in the mood to fix many marital issues these days so it was hard to know.
He reached down and swiped the baby monitor from the table. “I’ve got this.” He waved it at us before heading out of the dining room towards the stairs.
After he’d gone, I stood, feeling foolish, as I waited for Belle to tell me what she expected. I had no idea when this had happened to us. It didn’t seem that long ago that we were going about our lives, colliding together with passion at night or whenever we found a spare second, and working together towards a shared vision of our future. Now, I found myself uncertain of what step to take. I didn’t want to scare her away. I didn’t want to hurt her more than she was already hurting. I couldn’t handle another moment of seeing her in pain.
Belle remained silent for a moment, and I could see wheels turning behind her eyes. She hadn’t planned this, that much was clear. Edward had put her on the spot. Now she had to decide what to do. Finally, she stood, adjusting her cashmere sweater, her eyes trained on the floor. She didn’t say anything. Instead, she crossed the room. I expected her to leave. Apparently we still weren’t on speaking terms. But rather than go directly to the doorway, she paused and extended her hand.
/>
I cocked my head, sending an unspoken question: was she sure?
Her hand remained out, and I took it. Neither of us spoke as we climbed the stairs. When we reached the top, we could hear Edward singing to Penny in the nursery. Belle smiled before pulling me towards our bedroom.
I’d taken charge for most of our relationship, but tonight, I allowed her to lead me to our bed. I wouldn’t make assumptions. I wouldn’t make mistakes. I couldn’t risk pushing her any farther away from me than she already was.
"You got me here, beautiful. Now what are you going to do with me?” I asked her. I still didn’t move.
Belle’s eyes narrowed into slants before her palms spread across my chest. There was a longing to the touch that I recognized, but almost as quickly, she threw her weight behind them, pushing me down onto the mattress. I watched greedily as she climbed onto my lap, straddling my groin. Her arm looped around my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair before yanking my head back. Belle lowered her face over mine, her lips a breath away, close enough to kiss—and still I waited.
“You seem to suddenly be inflicted with patience,” she purred.
“I just want to be whatever you need me to be,” I said gruffly.
“Then be my man,” she commanded, leaving no doubt of what she wanted.
She didn’t have to ask twice. The hands I’d kept at my sides lashed out grabbing her by the hips and flipping her onto the bed. I’d made love to her the other night, gently calling her back to me. Why had I thought that would work? We had to fight like hell for each other and that’s what made us unbreakable—our love was forged in fire. We needed this. We needed the hard. We needed to show each other that we could take it all again and again and again. I jerked her sweater up, not bothering to pull it off entirely, which left her arms trapped by it over her head as I captured her mouth. Belle moaned against me, the tip of her tongue lashing across my teeth.
We needed each other. We loved each other. That was all that mattered. We could work through everything, as long as we kept showing up. As long as at the end of the day she held out her hand. As long as every night, I took her to bed. We just had to keep committing.