She pauses on the stairs. Then she begins running. It takes everything in me not to slip and fall while I’m in dress shoes as I chase after her. “Linnie, wait!” I call out.
Through the dimness, there’s a glimpse of light as I hear Linnie slam the door open with all her might. She rushes through it. I’m seconds behind her. New York glory is lighting the street behind us for what’s going to be our confrontation. I can feel it.
Slowly, I let her bag slide from my shoulder down my arm until it lands at my feet while I wait for her to speak.
I don’t have long.
“I thought I could do this.” Tears are beginning to form in her gem-colored eyes. “But it’s eating me up inside. I needed to know there was hope, but I didn’t even have that. You threw me—us—away and yet you’re here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you’re on a good path, but why? Why are you here after all this time? I was waiting for you to reach out to me the way you did Dad and Char, and you let me go!”
“Then why did you invite me to come?” I ask her quietly.
“To show you I did as you asked. I moved on.” I want to wrap my arms around her, but I have no right. “Then you stood during ‘Sober,’ and there was no way for me to ignore you. Damn you, Monty!” she hurls at me.
Yes, damn me. Damn me to hell and back for sentencing the woman I love to live the same hell I was right alongside me. I can’t change what was, what happened. I can only admit I was wrong.
“I deserve to know why.” Standing tall and proud, she faces me. “I understood your problem. I fought to get you help. And still…”
My heart clenches thinking about how different my life could have been if it hadn’t been for her strength and will.
Both of which the world saw tonight.
“I’m sorry, Linnie. There isn’t a thing I can say to make the thoughts in your head easier.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “If there’s a slim chance you’re able to forgive me, please understand this. I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to make it. At the time I wrote that letter, I was terrified I wasn’t going to be able to recover.”
“Monty.” She steps forward and lays her delicate hand against my chest. I want to shake it off as penance, but I can’t. I’m not that noble.
“I was trying to protect you the only way I knew how. There’s no way to rehearse for life, Linnie. The things I was discovering inside about myself made me feel like less of a man. How could that person be enough to support all the beautiful things you need, including the strength that lives inside you? I was supposed to be the hero, and here you were saving me. What do you call that?”
“Love,” she says bluntly. Her nails dig in slightly against the dress shirt I’m wearing. If she could draw my blood, I think she would.
I know I’d let her.
“Some days, I thought I’d die without seeing your face. When it was time for me to leave, I was so scared.” A garbage truck rolls by, its noxious fumes permeating the air. Part of me can’t believe we’re having this conversation in the middle of a New York city street, but at least we’re having it, which is more than I ever hoped for.
“Why?”
“Because a few days before the first time Mom and Dad were due to pick me up, a man was brought into the center who still reeked of alcohol. I could almost taste it on him. I felt like a damn vampire. I turned to my therapist and asked if I could stay longer. He said he had high hopes for me if I recognized I still wasn’t ready.”
Linnie’s face softens. “You’re calling him Dad?”
My brow puckers. “He didn’t tell you?” She shakes her head. “Is…is it a problem?” I ask cautiously.
“I think it’s about damn time.” We share a mutual smile before hers fades.
“There were days where I felt like I was suffocating. There were days when I felt like my life was falling apart. And days where every muscle and cavity ached. And that was just detox. But two things were scarier.”
“What’s that?” Her thumb is moving back and forth across my chest.
“Fear of having come so far and failing.”
“Then you find a way to try again,” she tells me firmly. There’s the Linnie I know and love. An eternal optimist. I reach up and capture her hand against my chest. “Then there’s the second.”
Her breathing spikes as her eyes meet mine.
“What I did to myself I found a way to forgive with your help. But I don’t know how to ask you to forgive me,” I manage to croak out. “What happened could have…”
“Yes. It could. But we have time for you to figure out what you want to say to me, don’t we?” God, I could spend my life kneeling at her feet and never humble myself enough to be worthy of what she’s offering. Her face isn’t bitter, though it has a right to be. It isn’t loving, like I’d die for it to be.
It’s understanding. It’s more than I expected and more than I deserve.
I can work with that.
I almost ruined it all. Not just the us that we were, but the individuals we are. All because I wouldn’t admit I couldn’t carry the burdens I was shouldering alone. Fortunately, somewhere along the way, the wishes I made on the stars were answered. I was sent miracles. Science took care of my Dad; it took something a hell of a lot stronger to cure me.
Faith.
Slowly, carefully, I lift my hand to her cheek. Perhaps the shaft of pain I’ll feel when I do will be my final penance before my reward—her love entrusted back into my care.
“So, I thought I’d visit the city for a while. Maybe get to see the city from a whole new perspective. Any suggestions on where I should go first?”
Her eyes are full of wary curiosity under the streetlamp. “How long do you plan on staying?”
My fingers dance along her cheek. It’s oddly personal not to have kissed her. I want her to know down to the marrow she gave so freely that once my lips land on hers that there’s no chance alcohol will ever pass through them again. “Until I can convince a close match to become a perfect one,” I say gruffly.
She averts her eyes. “I can’t make any promises.”
“I don’t expect you to,” I admit painfully, albeit truthfully.
She backs away. My heart aches at the loss of contact, at the remembered feel of her lips on mine. Something I have no right to mourn, but I do. “No more lies, Linnie. I promise.”
“We can’t start again,” she whispers, and my heart stops dead in my chest. At that moment, I know what Tim McCann felt like when he pulled the trigger.
Desperate.
Agonized.
Hopeless.
But I keep listening. I owe her the right to say and do what she wants. Even if it’s walking away. So, I nod. My eyes drift shut.
“All I can do is take each moment with you one step at a time.” I feel my heart start to beat again in my chest. “If you can’t handle that, then walk away now, Monty. We’ll have each other through our family, and well, that will have to be enough.”
Some might push harder for a more definitive resolution. Me? I had only just over six months—none of it spent with her, although a great deal of it was spent thinking about her—to back my case.
“I’m not going anywhere.” And slowly, oh so slowly, I’m blessed by her smile which has both dimples popping out. This isn’t her performance smile; it’s the one she deserves for those closest to her heart.
“Then how about we meet at Wolf’s Deli for lunch?” she recommends shyly. “I’ll show you where to get the best pastrami sandwiches in New York.”
“That sounds…” Like more than I deserve. “Perfect.”
“I’ll see you there at noon tomorrow?” Quickly, Linnie texts my phone with the address. It’s the first message she’s sent me since before the accident.
“I’ll meet you there.” Reaching up, I brush a lock of hair off her face the wind blew in. “You must be exhausted.”
“That doesn’t begin to cover it.”
“Then let’s get you home.�
��
“It’s two blocks this way.” She points her arm out, and we begin walking in companionable silence.
As we approach her entrance, her doorman leaps up to open the door. “Thank you.” Turning her head over her shoulder, she calls out, “Until tomorrow?”
“I’ll be counting the hours.” I assure her of nothing more than the truth.
She starts to walk through the door, but then she hesitates. I’m stock-still, my heart pounding in my chest as her head drops forward. Turning, she faces me. “To hell with it.” Dropping a bag heavy enough to take out a mugger on her doorman’s foot, she runs at me. I brace for impact.
One arm wraps around my neck. The other cups my chin. “I want to taste you with nothing between us but air.” Tugging at my cheek, her lips meet mine.
The kiss isn’t long, but my head spins over it. My arms band around her waist to hold her in place as she drinks from my lips, knowing all she’ll taste is me and my love for her.
Slowly, I let her go. She steps back and puts her fingers over her smiling lips. “So, that’s what hope tastes like,” she murmurs. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“Night, Linnie.” My voice sounds rough even to my own ears.
“Night, Monty.” As she races past her doorman, she scoops up her bag and offers a quick apology. He shakes his head but smiles. Though it’s me he outright laughs at when she disappears from my sight, and I jump up and pump my fist in the air.
I haven’t won the war for her heart; I haven’t even won a battle.
But I’m in the fight.
As long as there’s breath in my body, I’ll keep fighting for another chance at my heart’s perfect match.
Epilogue
Montague - Four Years Later
“Jesus, you mean to tell me they can’t manage to figure out a better way to do this than spitting? I’ve been at this for ten minutes!” I yell as I try to come up with enough saliva to fill a small plastic test tube.
“Keep at it, Parrish! I had to do it times two,” Linnie calls back, absolutely no sympathy in her voice. She says something I can’t quite understand before her laughter rings out in the penthouse. “No, Bris. I don’t have the same cravings you do. Fortunately for Monty, all I want is lo mein, and that’s easily delivered.” There’s another pause before Linnie yells, “Simon said to tell you that you suck, my love.”
“Tell him it’s not my fault his woman has a sweet tooth.” Then, knowing it will just aggravate him, I yell back, “It’s likely all the cilantro. Poor kid needs something to counterbalance that garbage.” Then I spit again.
Linnie’s laughter can be heard from the other room where she’s making plans with Bristol to go shopping for decorating our nursery. She has in mind a rainbow theme regardless if we have a boy or a girl.
I lied.
It wasn’t until my fiancée walked into the room waving a stick telling me she was pregnant this week that I ended up doing my DNA test. It didn’t matter if I ever found out whether I flushed when I drank alcohol since it’s been almost four years and seven months since I’ve had a drink. I count the days not only because I’ve been sober that whole time, but because the orbit of my world righted itself.
Linnie doesn’t hold me to my sobriety. It’s my choice. Deciding every day to be sober is entirely on me just as it was on her mother and every other person who walks the same road we do. None of what happened was her fault, so why should my recovery be her responsibility? Because she loves me? That makes me damned lucky. What it doesn’t do is make her a fucking martyr or a nursemaid.
That long-ago night of the first BADASS benefit, I was already texting my father—our father. My texts were so long, I switched to voice texts because my fingers couldn’t keep up the pace. Giving up trying to walk and text at the same time, I stood on the corner of Fifth Avenue and just babbled into my phone for an hour. People must have thought I was crazy. I didn’t care.
Maybe Van Gogh needed all the stars to dream, to hope, but I just needed one.
Linnie and I spent the next few days together exploring her New York. She showed me the city the tourists overlook: tiny neighborhoods, hidden markets, and above all, the best place to get a slice of pizza. “On your next trip, I’ll show you more,” she promised me. I grabbed at her words with one hand as the other was filled with the best pizza I’ve ever had. She laughed as I was already searching for flights on my phone before we left our cramped table at John’s in the West Village.
I still recall the last time I kissed her for the first time. I hadn’t instigated anything between us on any of my visits on her days off during Stars. But we had just come back from a long run through Central Park two months after the benefit. I almost tripped over my feet when I realized where I was.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She jogged back to where I was frozen in place.
“It was here where it all began.” I reached out and tugged her into my arms. “I was standing right here the first time you ran by—when I felt what stardust felt like.”
Linnie was a complete mess. Her hair was flying out of her long braid in every direction. And she’d never looked more beautiful when I cupped her chin and lowered my lips to hers, murmuring, “Nothing between us but air.”
Long moments later, we were only broken apart when another runner bumped into us. Her eyes shining, she pulled back and touched her fingers to her lips. Trapping our taste against her lips, she whispered, “And that’s what hope tastes like. It’s perfect.”
When we weren’t together, we talked on the phone every day. Whether it was the big things or the little things, we just wanted a touchpoint with each other. At first, Linnie admitted, “I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me about your day. You’re not alone even if I’m not there.”
The truth is, I wanted her to know she could lean on me as well. If we were going to work for the rest of our lives, then she needed to know I was here to shoulder her burdens and not fall apart the way I did before.
The last night Linnie morphed into Hera, we woke up in each other’s arms. It coincided with my tenth month of sobriety. When we woke in each other’s arms and celebrated, we closed that chapter of her life and focused on our future. One where I’d made a decision to move to New York full time.
My eyes drifting to where I can just see her curled up on the couch, I think about the quiet ceremony we have planned on the farm with Mom, Dad, Bristol, Simon, and Marco once this semester of school is done. We’ve been engaged for years, but Linnie isn’t in any rush. “The right moment takes time. We have plenty of that.” She’s right.
Just like I knew it was the perfect time to slip the ruby on her finger on the anniversary of my sixteenth month of sobriety. When I did, I whispered, “Life has taken us on one hell of a road. But because of you, I got help. Because of me, I’ll stay healthy. Because of us, we’ll make sure we give our love the time and care it needs. Just like those trees on Skyline. For years they’ve stood there sprouting the red leaves the first time I kissed you. I can still see the way they illuminated your face when our lips met under the trees that were this color.”
Her eyes, just as bright in our bed because of the tears overflowing them, blinked rapidly. “Yes.”
“You have to let me ask the question first, my love.”
“Then ask before I figure out a way to see if that ring fits you,” she blubbered.
“Evangeline Katherine Brogan.” She’d long since had Todd dropped from her name legally. “Will you do me the honor of becoming the other part of my heart for eternity?” I slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand. “And becoming my wife?”
“I already gave you my answer.” Then she drove her fingers in my hair and sealed our engagement with a kiss.
* * *
Saliva’s drying up in my mouth as I spit into the tube again. “What a way to celebrate our future child.” I curse as spit lands on the lip of the not-so-very helpful mouthpiece and ends up on my hand. I try to scoop i
t up to throw it into the tube.
“Eww!” Linnie strolls into our kitchen. “You can’t do that. You might skew the results!”
“Jesus, it’s not like we’re looking for any deep dark secrets with this, right?” I demand.
Linnie taps her long nails against her lips. “True, but we should know about any paternal DNA issues before this little one makes an appearance.” She pats her still-flat stomach. We only found out this week she’s pregnant, and I don’t think I’ve had a full night sleep since.
On the other hand, my bride-to-be is calm about the whole thing. She wanted to wait until she’s done with her current show before she announces her pregnancy, so we’re waiting before her publicist makes the announcement. While her pregnancy was a complete surprise, the timing couldn’t have been better for her professionally as there’s nothing on the immediate horizon she wants to act in.
We’ve jetted between New York and Virginia for the last few years while Linnie continued to saunter up and down the Great White Way. As for me, I decided to go back to school while Linnie was working. It felt crazy, and frankly scary as hell, at my age to walk into a classroom. And I finally walked across a graduation stage where not only my parents but Linnie and her family could watch when I got my master’s degree a few months ago. Seeing the look of pride on their faces made every hour of hard work worth it.
Linnie slides her arms around my waist. Her fingers trail over the waistband of my boxers, and saliva pools in my mouth. I quickly spit before I swallow it out of agony. “What are you doing?”
Pressing a kiss to my back, I can feel her lips in a smile. “Giving you the incentive to finish.”
Yeah, that’ll do it. I finish with the tube, cap it off, and put it back in the counter as Linnie’s fingertips trail up the inside of my thighs. “Hmm. I think your next paper should be on Pavlovian responses. You seem to have the same reaction every time I do this.” Her nails leave a trail of fire in their wake.
Spinning around, I catch her lips in a hard and fast kiss. “Think that would be more interesting than evaluating the progressiveness between PTSD and alcoholism?”
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