When We're Thirty

by Casey Dembowski

  “Yes.” Jonathan nodded. “I was glad to see you stayed true to your work ethic and didn’t let your heart ruin your career.”

  Will furrowed his brow. Had what appeared to be his dedication to Wellington Thorne gotten him a seat at the table?

  “It’s only two months,” Will said slowly. “Then she’ll be back, and it’ll be like we were never apart.” The words hurt him to say, but he got them out steadily, cockily, and confidently. Jonathan wouldn’t ruffle his feathers today, and no one was dictating the end of his relationship except Hannah herself.

  “We’ll see.” Jonathan’s eyes narrowed, glinting. An unsettling feeling grew in Will’s stomach. He knew that determined look. It was never good and always underhanded. “Either way, come along. We don’t want to be late.”

  “Late?” Will asked calmly. His father’s meaning was clear: there was only one place they’d been going. But Will wanted his father to have to say it—to invite him into the fold.

  “William,” his father started while getting to his feet. He rebuttoned his jacket. “I’m pleased to escort you to your first executive board meeting. It’s time you took your place alongside the other Thorne men.”

  Chapter 41

  Hannah

  Hannah closed the door behind yet another intern candidate. This one had been the worst of the bunch. He didn’t even listen to alternative rock. Technically, it wasn’t a prerequisite, but Hannah needed someone who knew their way around the pop underground. A working knowledge of Coldplay’s discography wasn’t going to cut it. There’d been one promising graduate student. Hannah would call her tomorrow. She didn’t have any energy left to put on the act that she was okay or to pretend she wasn’t crying herself to sleep every night—if she slept at all.

  Hannah curled on up on the couch, pulling Binx onto her lap. He hadn’t loved the long car ride, but over a week in, he was adjusting well. He lounged in front of the balcony window by day and slept by her feet at night. Binx purred, the soft vibrations of his small body offering the tiniest of comforts in their strange new habitat.

  Nate had secured a two-bedroom sublet in Cambridge, with the second bedroom meant to be the headquarters of Deafening Silence Boston. It was nice, homey, and owned by someone who liked all types of media. The sound system was fancy and new, DVD cases lined the shelves in the living room, and video game consoles from Nintendo to PlayStation were hooked up to the television. She’d even tried her hand at Mario Kart. It had always helped Brian on his worst days. And these were desperate times. To her surprise, it had helped a little.

  Hannah turned on the sound system, and Wilderness filled the space. She should’ve attended their anniversary show with the love of her life last week. Instead, she had spent the day unpacking, perusing intern applications, and cuddling with Binx while crying. The rest of the week had been much the same, except she’d had interns to interview and concerts to attend. With only two months in Boston, she had to hit the ground running.

  The opening song reached its chorus, and Hannah leaned back against the couch, letting the music wash over her. The music she had loved for a decade both soothed and hurt her. But she wanted to feel that pain. If there was pain, then it had been real. She lay down on the couch, Binx sitting on her chest. He leaned his head into her hand, and she scratched behind his ears the way Will always had.

  Will. Pain burst through her. The ache that hadn’t left her chest since she’d seen the pair of them standing together throbbed now. I love you, William.

  Why did she have to hear that? Fucking Madison. Madison, who wouldn’t stop calling no matter how many times Hannah sent her to voicemail. Will had stopped calling two days ago. He’d left two voicemails she couldn’t bring herself to listen to, and then yesterday afternoon, he’d texted her a message that broke her heart in its simplicity: I love you, Hannah. She still hadn’t responded. She didn’t know how.

  A knock sounded on the door. Hannah stared at the stack of resumes on the coffee table. Had she forgotten about an interview? No, definitely not—she hadn’t been that distracted. Her heart sped up. Will? It would be like him to just show up. He would see it as a grand gesture. But if he was coming to Boston to get her back, he would’ve been there by now.

  Or maybe it was one of those pesky cable salesmen. She got up and looked through the peephole. A woman with graying brown hair and a striking resemblance to Hannah stood on the other side of the door. It couldn’t be.

  Hannah opened the door and found herself face-to-face with her mother. She blinked a few times, but no, she wasn’t hallucinating from sleep deprivation. Her mother stood in her doorway in Boston on a Tuesday, the busiest day of her mother’s week. If Hannah had ever gotten sick on a Tuesday, she’d been her dad’s problem.

  “Your sister is pregnant,” her mother said by way of greeting.

  Hannah gripped the doorknob. “I know.”

  “Your sister is pregnant, and you’re married.” Her mother looked up at her with a wry smile. “How did I get so old?”

  “A twenty-two-year-old called me ma’am today,” Hannah said, stepping back to let her mother in.

  “Authority will do that.”

  They weren’t a touchy-feely family, but Hannah couldn’t ignore the fact that they hadn’t hugged. Part of her wanted to jump into her mother’s arms and cry her eyes out. Something about her mother’s stance and her first words—about Stephanie—stopped her. It was exactly how she would’ve started a normal conversation, except that she hadn’t returned a single phone call in all this time. There was nothing normal about her showing up in Boston.

  “What are you doing here, Mom?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” she said, picking up a picture of Hannah and Kate from the entertainment center.

  Hannah counted to three in her head before answering. “I’m working.”

  “Where’s your husband?”

  “Mom.”

  Her mother held up her hands. “What happened, Hannah? Your father told me you two were madly in love—perfect for each other. It hasn’t even been a month since you had lunch, and now you’re in Boston looking like a tractor ran over you, without a single picture of the man in sight.” Her mom stepped toward her and put a hand on her arm.

  The simple touch had lasted no more than a few seconds, but each second had felt like an eternity. Tears welled in Hannah’s eyes. She didn’t want to tell her mom about Will like that. She’d wanted a happy family event, with laughter and storytelling and everyone important around her. Their love had deserved that. But after everything that had happened, Hannah didn’t have that luxury.

  “You can talk to me, honey.” Her mother took a seat on the couch and motioned for Hannah to follow suit.

  “I don’t know if I can, Mom.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. What did you think I was going to do when you showed up at our house with a husband?”

  “I don’t know,” Hannah said. “Not accuse me of being little more than a paid escort.”

  Her mother opened and closed her mouth. Hannah could hear the correction that she didn’t say—the “paid” is implied in escort, honey.

  “You’ve never done an impetuous thing in your life. It’s just not in your nature. You’re a planner. So no, I don’t believe you fell in love and decided to get married in six weeks without telling anyone but Kate. And don’t even try to tell me that Kate didn’t know. Let’s just say, for today, I accept your version of events.”

  It was the best she was going to get. Hannah sat down, curling her legs underneath her. Physical therapy had paid off—not that it mattered now. Telling her mom about the Will and Madison situation might help. She had years of life experience to bring to the table. But how to start? Hannah played around with several openings. Finally, noticing her mother’s growing impatience, she just threw it out there. “Will and I—we got married so fast. We’d been friends for so long... but I just found out he lied about part of his past.”

  “Meaning?”

>   Hannah clasped her hands. “His ex-girlfriend cheated on him—I knew that. But he didn’t tell me that the ex-girlfriend is Madison, his brother’s fiancée—my soon-to-be sister-in-law.”

  Her mother nodded. “So, he omitted the details.”

  “Yes. And to make matters worse, Madison and I were friends. Or I thought we were. But I caught her telling Will she was still in love with him.”

  Her mother put a hand on top of hers. “What did Will have to say to that?”

  “He didn’t really get a chance to respond.” Hannah laughed bitterly. “Their conversation ended kind of abruptly.”

  “What did he say when you talked to him about it?” her mother asked.

  Hannah sighed. “I haven’t spoken to him about it.”

  “At all?”

  “No. I came home, got Binx, and came up here.” Hannah stared down at her hands, for once not speckled with ink. Band-Aids covered three of her fingers—stupid cardboard boxes. “I couldn’t talk to him then, and now, I don’t know what to say to him. I feel like such an idiot.”

  “Sounds familiar,” her mother said with a small laugh.

  Hannah met her mother’s gaze. “Like mother like daughter.”

  Her mother fidgeted on the couch beside her before straightening and wrapping Hannah’s hand in her own. “In this case, I don’t think that’s a good thing.”

  Hannah wiped away the tears brimming in her eyes. This was how it should’ve been—not weeks of silence. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I think...” Her mother paused, and a battle played across her face as she decided what to say. “Did you know that Dad smoked when we first met?”

  “You’re kidding,” Hannah said. She wasn’t sure where this was going, but her mother wouldn’t have handed out that information lightly.

  “I knew he smoked. We ran in the same circles,” she said with a shrug. “But he’d told me he quit—was quitting. And I believed him. To his credit, he never smoked around me. About a month after we got engaged, we were talking about the wedding. I joked that he was allowed the customary cigar with his brothers. He declined and said something like it hadn’t even been a year since he’d last touched a cigarette.”

  Hannah did the math in her head. Her parents had dated for two years before they got engaged. “He lied about smoking for a year?”

  “Yes, he did.” Her mother put a gentle hand to Hannah’s face. “Relationships are built on moments—a million moments big and small and in between. And I decided—over lots of tears and wine—that I wasn’t willing to throw all those moments away over this new information. I don’t think I would’ve left him had I found out he was still smoking, and he’d lived in a fraternity house where everyone around him smoked. I should’ve known. I did know but turned a blind eye. That’s not to say I wasn’t hurt. It was something we had to work past, but that’s what marriage is.”

  “So, you think I should forgive him?”

  “I think you should at the very least talk to him.” Her mother sighed. “You went in knowing he had a broken heart. That much he didn’t lie about. Would you have made a different choice if you’d known the identity of his ex?”

  Hannah tried to reconfigure her acceptance of the pact with the knowledge that Madison was his ex. She would’ve had different questions, more questions. She hadn’t even asked about his ex. For all she’d known, Will’s ex was still in his life—perhaps a coworker at Wellington Thorne, a family friend that he had no choice but to still see. She hadn’t asked.

  “You’ll figure it out,” her mother said, patting her shoulder. Hannah sniffled. Her mother clasped her hand between her own. “You will. Just don’t let your anger at Madison cloud your anger for Will. They are two different hurts. Make sure you remember that.”

  Hannah tucked herself into her mother’s arms, her head resting on her shoulder, somehow still the perfect fit. “I’m glad you’re here, Mom.”

  Chapter 42

  Will

  For Will’s whole life, he’d been groomed to sit on the executive board and help run Wellington Thorne. Jon would always be the heir, destined to take over after Grayson stepped down, but Will would become his brother’s trusted advisor as general counsel. When that future started to seem less likely, he’d been set adrift. Hannah had righted his world and set him back on track. She hadn’t even had to try.

  But after two straight days of board meetings, Will almost wished he had been barred for life. The meetings were tedious, and it had become clear in the first five minutes that Will was not going to get a word in edgewise. Jon had barely spoken, and he’d been on the board for four years. Jon and Will might be the future of Wellington Thorne, but the table of old men running the show wasn’t about to let the younger generation set the pace. Not yet—and certainly not while the tension between Jon and Will was palpable.

  It was usually Will glaring at Jon, but for the past two days, Jon had sat across from Will, a permanent scowl on his countenance. Will had wanted to ask him what the issue was. It should have been a welcome surprise to find Will here in his rightful place when Jon had spent so much time trying—and failing—to spend time with his younger brother. Will could guess at his brother’s discomfort, but Madison couldn’t have been that reckless. In telling Jon even half of the truth, she would both implicate herself and threaten the tenuous hold she had on the Thorne name.

  Will walked out of the board room at the next break, stretching after hours of sitting. He felt Jon’s eyes glued to his back. Even Jonathan had noticed, giving his eldest son no less than two reproachful glares in the last hour. But Will couldn’t care less about Jon’s turmoil and why it was directed at him. Jon certainly hadn’t cared about Will’s when he’d asked him to give a speech at the wedding. If Jon expected Will’s marriage to magically absolve him of all his crimes, then his brother would need to get over whatever slight Will had unintentionally spun into motion.

  “William. My office. Now.” Jon’s voice was fierce and left no room for rebuttal. Will hesitated only a moment before turning on his heels and following his brother.

  Unlike Will’s enclosed space with solid walls and privacy, Jon’s office had glass spanning the front and did little to keep sound from slipping through into the larger office. This was a mistake. Will felt it deep in his bones. He sat down across from his brother, who paced behind his desk.

  “What in the world is going on with you?” Will asked when his brother showed no sign of standing still.

  Jon stopped midpace. His eyes bored into Will, fury rising behind them. He clenched his fists, and his voice when he spoke was ragged with anger. “You kissed my fiancée.”

  Will sprung to his feet, the fight in his fight-or-flight response winning out despite Jon’s threatening stance. He clenched his hand in an imitation of his brother, his own face turning stony. Madison had finally started her war.

  “Madison told me how she came to you after our fight. After she told you she was letting you go for good, you kissed her.”

  “And you believed her?” Will’s voice rose at the incredulity of Jon’s statement and his staunch belief that Madison, the same woman who had cheated wholeheartedly on Will, would be telling the truth.

  “It’s more than obvious that you still love her.”

  Will laughed, a cruel undertone curdling the sound. “I stopped loving her the moment I saw her wrapped around your dick. I saw her for what she was then—a liar and a whore.”

  He’d known his words would have an effect. He hoped it would feel like a punch to the gut and wake Jon up from his blind love of a woman who didn’t know how to love him or possibly anyone. But when Jon’s fist connected with his face, Will was caught by surprise. He put a hand to his cheek. Nothing was broken, but it was still tender. He stepped back from his brother’s rage.

  “You’re such an ungrateful pissant,” Jon said, also taking a step back. “I backed you with Grayson so you could get your seat on the board. We kept your stupid secret from Hannah.
Madison even became her friend, fixed her knee, put her in our fucking wedding. Madison did everything you asked even though it hurt her. She felt we owed you after everything.”

  “You do owe me, you asshole.” The words spilled from Will. “You stole my life.”

  “Boys!” Jonathan’s sharp voice caught both of their attention.

  Will came back to reality—they were doing this at Wellington Thorne, in a glass box. They knew better. But he didn’t care anymore. “You took everything from me,” he said, his voice rising. He grabbed Jon by the lapels and pushed him back against his desk.

  “William,” Jonathan hissed.

  Will ignored his father. He wasn’t hiding for the sake of the company or appearances—today or ever again.

  “Madison and I were together for years. Years. You knew how I felt about her. You helped me pick out her engagement ring. And all the while, you were fucking her behind my back. And you’re not even sorry about it. Not once have you expressed one regret about throwing our entire relationship away. Did you ever stop to think what your affair would do to me? To us? To this family?”

  Will glanced at his father, finding him stone-faced and immovable. He didn’t seem to care that his sons were in pain. He’d never cared for a second. Will turned back to his brother, whose anger had faded to a pain he was all too familiar with.

  “I didn’t kiss your fiancée,” he said wanly. “She came to my room uninvited on our old anniversary and told me she still loved me. She ruined my marriage.”

  Will’s voice rose on the last sentence, and as he reached for his brother to shake some sense into him, Jonathan stepped between them. “Now is not the time for this, William.”

  Will shook his head. There would never be a time for it. Not in the Thorne family. They weathered the storm—they didn’t chase it. But this storm would never pass.