I couldn’t get to him with myself standing in the way and I needed room, needed time to figure that out. He said he would give me everything. I hoped that the time to get my head on right and to try and figure out how much I was willing to risk for him was part of that.
When I got to my mom’s fancy town house at six thirty the next morning, she took one look at me, wrapped me up in a hug, and put me to bed. I was dead on my feet, and an emotional wasteland. I slept for most of the day and only roused that evening for her to feed me a PB&J. The next morning I actually took a shower and got brave enough to look at my phone. I had no missed calls and zero missed text messages from Nash, and I didn’t know if that made me feel better or worse about the way I had left things.
I made my way down to the kitchen and grabbed a muffin my mom must have left on the counter for me. I saw her sitting on the balcony that overlooked the golf course her town house butted up against. I poured myself a cup of coffee and went out to join her. She looked me up and down over the top of her glasses and gave me a grin.
“You look terrible.”
I sighed heavily and sank into the chair opposite to hers. “I just got my heart ripped out. I look pretty much exactly how that feels.”
“I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”
I pushed my hair back off of my face and looked out at the desert landscape. “I’m not sure what I was doing with him, but I knew it was going to end like this.”
“How?”
“How what, Mom?”
“How did you know it was going to end badly?”
I looked at her, really looked at her, and was surprised to see my old mom looking back at me. Getting away from Brookside had done wonders for her. She looked healthy and sane, and I would be willing to bet her morning cup of coffee no longer had a healthy dose of Irish in it.
“Because he broke my heart once before. Because look at you and Dad. Because look at me … I’m so screwed up, how could it have ended any other way?”
“What happened, Saint?”
I didn’t think I wanted to relive it, but before I could stop, the words, the entire story, starting with seeing him the night Rome got stabbed, came pouring out of me in an unstoppable torrent. When I got to the scene yesterday she was frowning, but as I told her about Nash telling me he loved me, she started to nod and grin at me. I thought that reaction was totally uncalled for until she reached over and patted me on the knee.
“Honey, you have to let that boy love you if he’s the one for you.”
I balked at her and set my coffee down with a thunk on the table. “Did you miss the part where he had a beautiful, naked girl in his apartment? How am I supposed to overlook that?”
She lifted an eyebrow at me. “In your heart, do you really think he would cheat on you? Do something to jeopardize all the work he put into getting you to let him in?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Saint, don’t you know the question is why would he? Why would he cheat on you when you are apparently what he wants? Why would he have worked so hard to get to you, tolerated your hang-ups and oddities, made a space for you in his very busy life, if he was just going to screw it up the first chance he got? Is he a moron?”
“No, he’s really smart, but so is Dad, and he cheated on you.”
She winced involuntarily and I opened my mouth to apologize, but she waved it off.
“Your dad cheated because he no longer loved me and he was bored. It took me all this time to get to that point that I recognize it now. He was a coward, and instead of just saying he didn’t have the same feelings for me anymore, he had an affair. Your young man doesn’t sound like a coward, Saint. He sounds like a man willing to put his heart on the line for you.”
I huffed in aggravation and threw myself back in the seat with my arms across my chest.
“Why are you taking his side, Mom?”
“Because I love you and I realize now that I may have had a hand in some of the issues you are struggling with that are keeping you from being truly happy. I was hard on you, had a hard time with how quiet you were, and nitpicked about your looks and lack of social life when you were younger because I thought I was helping. I thought if you acted more like Faith, looked a little more polished, you would have an easier time of things. Kids can be cruel and I didn’t want that for you. I should’ve appreciated the wonderful child I had, not tried to make you into something else.”
“Oh my God, Mom.”
She took her sunglasses off and looked me dead in the eye. “Listen, honey, I loved your dad my entire life. He was everything to me, and yes, I went off my rocker when that went away. I thought my life was going to be over when he left me, but I wouldn’t change any of it now that I’ve had some space to reflect. At one point our love was the most beautiful thing in the world to me; it brought you and your sister into the world, and it gave me something to look forward to each and every day. It might have gone badly at the end, might have hurt me more than I thought possible when it went away, but I wouldn’t trade a single moment of the best parts of it. I would never trade in experiencing that hurt for the family that our love created, Saint.”
I felt tears pressing in my eyes and had to blink them back before I could answer her.
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive Dad for what he did?”
She murmured something and tilted her head to look at me. “For walking away from our family, for hurting you girls … no, I won’t. What I can do now is recognize that we are all very much human and capable of making bad choices without thinking of the long-term repercussions. Saint, you had to come get me out of jail because I tried to brain a woman with a bottle of maple syrup. We all make mistakes, some worse than others.”
“I don’t want to hurt like this because of someone else’s mistakes, Mom.”
I was talking about more than Nash and I think on a level that only a mother and a woman hurt by a man she loved could understand. She understood what I was saying without words.
“Saint, hurting is how you know it’s real. If he didn’t matter, if he was just some guy, even back then it wouldn’t have lasted with you the way it has. You can’t run from feeling things, even if some of those things are awful, because love opens you up to experiencing emotions you haven’t ever felt before.”
“He’s the only one who has ever made me feel anything like this.” He was also the only one that made me feel desire, hope, and gut-wrenching sorrow while I watched him grapple with the truth about his dad and Phil’s subsequent illness.
“What is it that you think you deserve, honey? If it isn’t this guy, what he has to offer, then what is it?”
“I have a great job that I love and work hard at. I care a lot about other people and I deserve someone who appreciates all of that.”
“This tattoo guy doesn’t?”
I pouted like a little kid. “No, he does, a lot actually. Those are some of his favorite qualities in me. He told me I deserve the best because of the lengths I go to for others.”
“What else?”
“What do you mean, ‘what else’?”
She gave me a hard look and leaned over so she could grab my face. She squished my pout together so hard I’m sure I looked like a duck.
“You are stunningly beautiful, you are desirable and vibrant, and you always have been. You deserve someone who worships you, who looks at you and knows no one is more perfect than you.”
Now there was no holding back the tears. My mom and I weren’t exactly ever on the same page about things, but hearing her say those words to me broke something free that had been lodged in my subconscious my entire life. I rubbed my hands roughly over my cheeks and blinked away the moisture clinging to my lashes.
“He tells me I’m perfect all the time.”
“Are you in love with him?”
I nodded sadly. “I don’t want to be, but I couldn’t stop it from happening.”
“Because it was meant to be.”
She reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “You came home to try and pull me out of my funk. You never gave up on me when I was terrible to you and your sister. You came and got me out of jail and never stopped loving me. Even with all the turmoil your father dropped on us, you never stopped caring about him. I want what’s best for you, and while I would prefer a doctor to a tattoo artist, any man that can shake you up, get you out of that boring, secure little bubble you always live in, is welcome in my book. Now go get dressed and let’s go shopping like normal people do when their hearts are hurting.”
I didn’t want to go shopping, or go to the country club for lunch. I didn’t want to go to a wine tasting that night or to the tapas restaurant with my mom and all her single friends the next night. By the end of day three, I was ready to pull out my hair. I was bored, missed my sister and my job, and had learned way too much about my mom’s new sex life. Mostly, all I wanted was to get back to the mountains and, in all honesty, get back to Nash.
On the fourth day I broke down and sent him a text. All I could think to say was: I’m so sorry. We need to talk.
When he didn’t answer me back the rest of the day, I decided enough was enough. If I was the hurdle that I needed to get over in order to have him, then the only way to do it was just get over it. I was still scared, still worried about being enough, about being able to give back everything he seemed so willing to lay at my feet, but going home and confronting him, and the person he saw when he looked at me, was the first step. All people deserved love and kindness. Seeing that young girl take her own life drove that point home more clearly than anything else could have. I needed to take what Nash was showing me at face value. No one was ever going to love me better than he did.
I was only two hours into the twelve-hour return trip when I got a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize that came from a 303 area code. Figuring it was work or work related, I answered.
“Hello?”
“Saint.” It took me a second to recognize Royal’s voice. “Where are you?”
“Just outside of Phoenix headed home. Why? How did you get this number?”
“I know I’m the last person you want to hear from now, but the faster you can get here the better. And I’m a cop, how do you think I got your number?”
She was talking fast and an uneasy shiver slid down my spine.
“What’s going on?”
She sighed. “You were a real bitch, you know that? I don’t typically tell people about my circumstances, about the deal with my mom and the stockbroker, but I thought since you were touchy about being judged, you would get it. That was really mean what you said to me.”
Hello, life lesson right in my face. I had practically called her a whore, told her she was no better than her mother. I didn’t really mean it, didn’t know her well enough to make that kind of judgment call. I had just been spouting off like a stupid idiot because I was hurt and mad. Any lingering remains of trying to use what Nash had said in the past against him turned to ash. I couldn’t blame him anymore when I was guilty of doing the exact same thing. Luckily, unlike I had been, Royal seemed willing to accept an apology.
“I know. I’m sorry. That was a hard scene to walk in on. I jumped to conclusions without listening to explanations.”
“Well, it did look bad. I made a bunch of extra keys and now half of Denver is on call to let me in my apartment should I lock myself out again, but anyway, you need to get your cute little butt back here. Phil took a drastic turn for the worse. The mouthy little blonde with the baby was getting a bunch of stuff for Nash since he hasn’t left Phil’s bedside since you left. It doesn’t look very good. You don’t want your man to have to go through that alone. He needs you.”
I think what I was supposed to take away from this entire nightmare was not to pay attention to what words were said no matter how ugly, or to what I was seeing no matter how bad it looked. I had to have faith in the people involved—myself included. Mistakes were going to be made; that didn’t mean I had to forsake my life and my happiness because of them, not when Nash had shown me time and time again he was worth working through the pain and confusion for.
“I won’t be back in Denver until late tonight.”
She made a noise in her throat. “I hope Nash’s dad lasts that long.”
I did, too. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“I told you I wanted us to be friends.”
“I think I’m finally ready to believe you. I’m a neurotic weirdo, though. I don’t know how great a friend that will make me.”
She laughed a little even though she still sounded kind of sad. “We all have things, Saint. Things we struggle with, things that make it hard for us to see ourselves how others view us. Sharing those things is the only way to get past them.”
I didn’t tell her that I had just recently figured that out. If I didn’t get back to Denver in time, that was just one more thing I was going to have to overcome. I would never forgive myself if Nash had to face Phil passing away without me. Sure, he had a multitude of friends, people that loved him unconditionally, to help him handle his grief, but like Royal said, he needed me. No one else would do, and that’s how I knew loving him back, giving him all he gave me wasn’t going to be a problem because I needed him and only him in the exact same way.
CHAPTER 17
Nash
Royal was overly apologetic when I came back in the apartment. I waved her off and went to get dressed. Like I said, I knew this shit didn’t look good, but it kicked me in the balls that Saint wouldn’t take a breath, talk to me about it. She just automatically assumed the worst of the situation and of me, and that just sucked. I really did love her, wanted this to be a real thing, a thing I was going to have to hold on to while everything else in my life spiraled out of control. Her taking that away broke my heart, but more than anything, it made me choke on disappointment.
I got dressed, waited for the locksmith to come and let my neighbor back in her apartment—again—and headed back over to Phil’s. It was like his life was grains of sand in an hourglass and the sand was suddenly flowing much more rapidly, and I could see it. So on top of feeling like Saint had leveled me, I felt like Phil was leaving me hanging as well. I knew it wasn’t rational, but it was how I felt all the same.
While I sat at his bedside I struggled with the need to text her, to try and throw explanation after explanation on her, to beg her for a shot and not to give up on what we were building, to tell her how much I needed her, that I couldn’t do this, watch Phil fade away without her. I refrained. I couldn’t do it. I loved her, but I loved me, too, and I couldn’t be with someone who didn’t appreciate that because they didn’t appreciate themself. It hurt, but it was as real as I could see things.
A couple of days after the big scene, I was surprised when she reached out with her simple message. I didn’t know what she was sorry for. Maybe for ripping my heart to shreds by dismissing my feelings, for jumping to conclusions, for running away from me for the second time in our history without letting me explain, for not believing in me, in us—for all of it? I didn’t know what to say back to her and Phil was starting to slip in and out of lucidity, so I didn’t want to dedicate any time to trying to mend that particular fence. Not when she had yanked it out by the posts.
One minute Phil knew he was in Denver and who I was, the next he was back in the navy, or on the East Coast reliving his wild party days. I tried to keep him comfortable, had nurses at his place almost around the clock, but the cancer was obviously progressing, moving into his most vital organs. Time was slipping away. I hadn’t been at work all week, luckily I had not only the best friends, but the best coworkers in the world and they were carrying on and picking up the slack I left behind. I knew they were all worried about me, sad about what was happening with Phil, but right now we needed this time between the two of us and
I think they all respected that.
I was sitting in the trusty recliner staring at SportsCenter mindlessly when Phil reached a shaky hand out and put it on my arm. I muted the TV and looked down at him. His eyes—my eyes—were rheumy and tinted with a hint of yellow, but they were locked on me intently.
“Do something for me, son.”
I felt my breath shudder and my lungs clamped closed painfully. This was the hardest thing I had ever had to go through in my life, including when I had put one of my closest friends in the ground way too young.
“Sure, Phil. Anything you need me to do.”
His fingers curled into the muscle of my arm and I saw him struggle to smile at me behind his oxygen mask.
“I had a good life, ya know?” He moved his head in what I think was supposed to be a nod. “I traveled the world, saw amazing things. I started a successful business on my own terms and never had to answer to a boss. I fell in and out of love a hundred times. I helped make a wonderful group of kids their own family, and I had you. I have zero regrets and it is my greatest hope you live your life the same way.”
He sounded winded. I could hear how hard it was for him to get the words out. I blew out a breath and forced a smile.
“Well, I’ve only been in love once, and it didn’t work out so great, but the rest I can sure try my hardest to live up to.”
“The nurse?”
“The nurse,” I confirmed.
“Don’t give up just yet, Nash. If she matters, if you want her for yours, don’t give up.”
“What if she gave up on me?”
“Then you love her hard enough that she can’t help but come around. Part of me always wonders if I gave up too easy on your mom.”
Nash Page 26