Face-Off at the Altar

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Face-Off at the Altar Page 39

by Toni Aleo


  “This isn’t your fault, Mekena. This is hers. She’s the one who did this.”

  “But I could have stopped her. If I wasn’t so in love with you and so caught up in the fact that both of you broke my heart, maybe I would have seen it. I could have helped!”

  “So you blame me?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You did in so many words.”

  “Don’t put words in my fucking mouth!”

  He looked away, and she closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to say that. Hadn’t meant to sound so bitchy, but the words were out there, and she had hurt him. Damn it.

  Shaking his head, he tried to reach out to her, but she moved away. “Mekena, why can’t I touch you? What did I do?”

  “I don’t know, I just don’t want to be fucking touched. I want to be alone.”

  “I can’t do that,” he said. And in the bright moonlight, she could see that he looked as if she had slapped him. “I want to be here for you.”

  “Don’t be! Go somewhere else. I don’t want you here.”

  Looking down, he chewed on his lip as he shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Then I’ll fucking leave,” she yelled, kicking the blankets off her. “I need to clear my head, I need to fucking breathe, and I can’t with you here.”

  Before she could get anywhere, though, he stopped her, bringing her back down onto the bed before towering over her. “No, stay. I’ll go. I won’t be able to think straight if I know you’re out there, just wandering. If you need to be alone, fine, I’ll go. But please don’t leave.”

  Rolling her eyes, she glared up at him. “You’re not my dad, Markus. You’re my boyfriend. I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

  “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m asking you to save us both the heartache in the end and just chill out here. You need your space? Fine. I’m good with that. I’ll give it to you.”

  As he stood up, she looked down at her feet while her tears rained onto her legs. He moved around, grabbing a pair of shorts and then a shirt before he came back to the bed. She allowed him to touch her cheek before he kissed the top of her head. “I’m here for you, Mekena.”

  “I know.”

  “Okay,” he said, walking out of the room. When she heard the door shut, she fell back on the bed, a sob leaving her lips.

  What the fuck was she doing?

  She was pushing him away, just as Skylar pushed everyone else away.

  And if she didn’t get it together, she was going to end up like Skylar.

  Alone and dead.

  Running his hands down his face, Markus went out into their living room and looked out the windows that showed the Nashville skyline sparkling in the night sky. He wasn’t sure what had just happened in that bedroom, but one thing was certain—his heart sure took a beating. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the window and let out a heavy sigh. He hated hearing her so broken, so upset. But what broke him the most was the fact that she wouldn’t take the help he so desperately wanted to give her.

  He wanted to make it better.

  He wanted to help her.

  But she was pushing him away, and he didn’t understand that.

  They said they were in this together, so why was she trying to do this alone? Yeah, he didn’t understand what she was going through, nor did he truly need to. But at least she could use him. Lean on him, let him be her rock. Instead, she wallowed in her guilt. And the thing was, it wasn’t even her fucking fault. God, he hated Skylar. He forgave her, that wasn’t the problem, but he hated the pain and loss she had inflicted on the people who loved her. He was sure Linda and Stan were doing the same thing Mekena was doing, blaming themselves, when this was all Skylar’s doing.

  He didn’t understand how Mekena could try to blame him or try to give reason to her sister’s actions. Yeah, they were in love. Yeah, they were totally obsessed with each other. But that was how it was when you first dated someone. You wanted to know everything. You wanted to feel their touch, their kiss. They’d been guilty of it, but it wasn’t their fault Skylar was a jealous bitch and wanted her sister to herself. That was the root of it, and it angered Markus that the love of his life was in their bedroom, crying over some selfish bitch who didn’t have anyone’s best interest at heart but her own.

  It just wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

  But what killed him the most was that he felt like she regretted their relationship.

  That was what had him on the brink of tears, holding on to the wall as he tried to figure out his next move. Should he go back in there, make her see reason, fight for them? Or should he give her the space and let her decide what she wanted, praying to God it was him. He didn’t want to do life without her. He had tried that. It didn’t work. He wanted her. All of her. But he wouldn’t force her to love him. He always suspected she was too young to love only him in her lifetime, but were those his insecurities getting to him? Were her words really fucking with him that badly?

  Covering his face, he let out a groan, unsure what to do. He could hear her crying, sobbing, and it was killing him. When Mr. Right wove in and out of his legs, meowing loudly, he looked down, knowing his buddy was worried about Mekena too. Bending down, he picked up the cat and cuddled him into his chest. As much as she said she wanted him to leave, he couldn’t will his feet to do so. Plus, where would he go? It was well past four in the morning, and he wouldn’t wake his best friends. No, he had to fix this.

  He had to fix her.

  But how?

  Kissing the top of Mr. Right’s head, he put him down and he scurried away. He was worried not only for Mekena but Mr. Right too. Since Skylar died, he hadn’t been eating, and Markus knew it was because the cat was feeding off Mekena’s grief. It was good for his weight, but Markus was sure it wasn’t good for the furry guy’s overall health. Falling down onto the couch, he looked out into the darkness of Nashville and sighed. He felt lost. He felt like he couldn’t do anything right, and he didn’t like that feeling. Her cries were smothering him. He almost left. He almost got up and let her be, but something told him he couldn’t. Was it the promise he had made to Skylar?

  The promise that he would never give up on Mekena.

  That he would love her for the rest of his existence?

  He wasn’t sure how, but he had to clear his head. He found himself standing and walking to the sound system he had installed a few days before Skylar passed. He hit play to find that Mekena had been listening to Shawn Mendes last. As the singer’s voice filled the room, Markus felt like the song was speaking to him. That fate had put it on just for that moment to give him guidance, to give him a plan. As “Never Be Alone” played, he felt it in his bones because it was how he felt about Mekena.

  Leaning into the radio, he closed his eyes as he listened to the words, letting them feed his soul. It was like he was being recharged, reminding him how much he loved that girl who lay in that bedroom, broken. He was going to put her back together. He didn’t care what he had to do, what she said. He was going to make things better for her. He was going to love her enough for both of them.

  Before he could, though, he jumped at the feel of a pair of arms coming around his waist. When he realized it was Mekena, he froze as she cried into his back.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her sobs shaking his own body. “I’m trying to push you away, and I don’t know why. I’m just hurting.”

  “I know,” he said, covering her hands with his. “I hate it. I do.”

  “Me too,” she cried, soaking his back with her tears. Turning in her arms, he looked down at her as she blinked away her tears, the drops falling from her dark lashes. Her sweet hazel eyes were filled with such pain, and he wished he could take it all and make it disappear. Just to give her some relief. “I just don’t know what to do, and I hate fighting with you. I’m just so fucking mad, and I don’t know how to handle these feelings, this pain. I took it out on you, and I didn’t mean to.”

 
His heart ached as he held her lovely round face in his hands, his thumbs grazing her cheeks. “Baby, I know we’ll have our disagreements, that’s inevitable. We’ll fight for no damn reason because, let’s be honest, I’m too goofy and you’re too smart. But, Mekena, I knew from the first day I met you I wouldn’t let you slip away. So, yeah, yell at me, scream, tell me you hate me, but don’t push me away. I’m here because I love you, because I believe in us, and I’m not going anywhere without a fight.”

  Her little lip quivered as she nodded. “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”

  He smiled gently. “Mekena, I wasn’t going anywhere unless you were going with me.”

  She couldn’t stop her tears as she gasped for breath. “Why am I blaming myself? Why does it hurt so bad?”

  “Because you want a reason for this. And, Mekena, I’m sorry there isn’t one except that she was sick and turned to a substance instead of her family.”

  “Why, though? Was it my fault? Did I push her away?”

  “No, baby, you grew up. You didn’t need her anymore, and I really think that’s why she did it.”

  “Could I have stopped her?” she asked, her eyes begging for an answer. But Markus didn’t have one.

  Shrugging, he said, “I don’t know, but honestly, I really don’t think so.”

  Letting out a loud sob, she crumpled against him as she nodded. “I don’t think so either. She was so headstrong, always right, while I was just the dorky little sister who didn’t know better.”

  “But now you’re the hot, beautiful, smart woman that I love more than I could have ever imagined. This is in no way, shape, or form your fault, my love. It really isn’t.”

  Chewing on her lip, she held his gaze as she hiccupped a sob. “Why don’t I know that?”

  “Because you want a reason for losing her. You want to blame someone. But Mekena, it’s no one’s fault but her own. I don’t think you wanted the druggie to win, I think you thought your sister would win. But, baby, she didn’t, and I’m so incredibly sorry. If I could, I’d go find her and bring her back for you.”

  Crying out, she clung to him and he let her. She dug her face into the middle of his chest, and he closed his eyes, praying for her pain to stop. He didn’t care what havoc she caused, as long as she felt better. “It just isn’t fair. I hate what she has done. I hate that she hurt us. I’m so fucking mad.”

  “I know, baby. I know. I’m so sorry.”

  As she cried, he held her, unsure what else to say. He had said everything he could. But damn it, he’d repeat it over and over again to help. To take some of the pain away.

  As she hiccupped, she whispered, “I left the funeral.”

  He nodded. He had hoped she wouldn’t regret that, but it was obvious she did. Looking deep into her eyes, he ran his thumbs along her lips. “And that’s okay. You said your good-byes. No one said you had to stay.”

  “My mom is mad, and your parents are concerned since I didn’t say bye—”

  “None of that matters. They’ll be okay. We have to worry about you. We have to build you back up.”

  She swallowed hard. “I just feel empty.”

  Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close as his lips dusted hers. “Then let me fix that. Let me love you until you’re full again. Just don’t push me away.”

  She closed her eyes, and her lips trembled and jerked as she leaned into him. He hated how much pain she was in, and it was honestly breaking his heart. He didn’t know what to do; he didn’t know how to make it better. He just prayed his love was enough to make it seem at least a little bit brighter. Inhaling deeply, he pressed his lips to her cheek as she cried. He figured that maybe he didn’t have the answers, but he’d always have his undying love for her.

  He just hoped that was enough.

  “Markus?”

  Smiling against her temple, he kissed her and whispered, “Yeah, baby?”

  “I’m such a mess.”

  His lips quirked as he nodded. “A beautiful mess.”

  “Yeah, but even though I’m a mess, please stay,” she whispered, her lips ghosting across his cheek. “No matter how hard it is to stay with me, just stay please, because I need you.”

  Smiling, he pulled back and shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere, but you don’t need me.”

  “You’re right, I want you.”

  “And that’s enough to keep me from ever leaving.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, just love me.”

  “Done.”

  Gathering her in his arms, he held her tightly as he kissed her temple and whispered, “Oh, how I love you, Mekena.”

  “Nowhere near as much as I love you, Markus.”

  That was debatable for sure, but he figured they could settle that later.

  They had their whole lives to do so.

  “How do you feel, Markus?”

  Markus smiled as he drew in a breath and let it out, looking over at Dr. Lemiere. “I feel alive.”

  “Alive? Good. That’s a good feeling.”

  “It is,” he said, leaning on his legs, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I’ve felt a bit numb since Skylar passed. It was great to get all that off my chest, to forgive her. But Mekena’s grief has been really overwhelming. I hate watching her hurt, and in return, I’ve hurt. But each day is getting better.”

  “How have you handled her hurt?”

  He took in another breath and let it out slowly. “We talk. She likes to remember the good times, not the shit that Skylar caused, which is nice. She’s been visiting with her family a lot more, and that’s really good. I like her parents, and they like me. We’ve fought, but it’s been because of her grief. So when I get frustrated, I put my whole self into my game. That’s been my saving grace, my game—and my boys, along with my best friend, Baylor. I can talk to her about anything, and that’s great. But mostly, Mekena and I have been building our life.”

  “Have you? How?”

  “Our apartment is coming along nicely. My pseudo big sister, Lucy has been designing for us, and since Mekena needs something to distract her, she’s been obsessed with making it a home. It’s nice, I guess, but then it makes me worry that she’s trying to bury her pain. So I talk to her a lot, and I think she needs that. She needs to know I’m there, and I need her to know I worry for her. I’ve tried really hard to be as honest as I can.”

  “Good, I like that you’re talking to her, telling her what you’re feeling,” Dr. Lemiere said with a smile. “Do you find it hard to be honest when you know it might upset her?”

  “Yeah, but I refuse to let either of us shut down on the other. She’s getting help—she got free counseling through a grief counselor at Vanderbilt. She went with her family, so I know she is talking through things with them. And when she comes home, we discuss it more, so I feel good about it. I also try to keep her smiling since that’s my favorite thing about her. I know when she forces it and when she really means it, so she can’t lie to me. I know that frustrates her sometimes, but like I said, we can’t give up. We have to keep fighting. Or at least that’s what I’m told.”

  Dr. Lemiere smiled since she was the one who had told him that last week. “I’m glad you listened.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I did, and I’m doing well. I think I am, at least, and Mekena is doing as well as she can. I couldn’t imagine losing Jude, Jayden, Jace, or Lucy, and they aren’t even really my siblings. But she did lose her only sister, and I think she is handling it much better now. She has her good days and her bad.”

  “Do you find yourself having the same?”

  He shrugged. “I think so. I think I play off her emotions because I care so much. Because I want her to be happy. But at the beginning, after Skylar passed, I think I was becoming obsessed with how Mekena felt and that it was my duty to lift her up. I couldn’t do that because it was bringing me down. So instead, I reminded myself that I couldn’t be her rock if I was falling apart because she was.”
r />   “You’re right.”

  “The main thing I’ve learned, through all of this, is that I am one person, and no matter how much I worry for everyone else, I have to worry for me first. Only then can I help everyone else. Which is what I’ve been doing. I make sure that I’m good, and then I’m there for her.”

  “Good, that’s what we have been striving for. I’m very proud of you.”

  Markus beamed. “Thank you.”

  “How’s the anger? The resentment toward Skylar? It’s been five weeks since her passing. Has that been relieved some?”

  Markus looked down at his feet and thought that through. “I think I’ve fully forgiven her. But I’m still mad she hurt all those people, but I’m not mad she hurt me.”

  “Okay, that’s a classic sign of grief.”

  “Should I grieve for her?”

  Dr. Lemiere paused, moving her pen along her lip. “I think you grieve for her for Mekena. Do you feel you are still trying to take all her pain?”

  Markus nodded. “Character flaw.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s okay, at least we know and we can work on it. But, Markus, you’re moving mountains with your progress. I’m very proud of the man sitting in front of me.”

  “Thank you,” he said, smiling, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been nervous about this meeting since, last week, all he did was cry because he couldn’t fix Mekena. It had been a rough five weeks, but they were getting through it.

  Together.

  “So how do you feel about cutting down to twice a month? Come every other week? Or do you want to stay at every week? I feel you’re not needing me as much as I assumed you would. You’re very resilient, and I appreciate that, but I also don’t want to cut you off completely in case something else comes up.”

  Markus nodded as he thought about it. “Yeah, I’m good with that change. Plus, if I have an issue, I’m always welcome to come in here, right?”

  “Absolutely,” she agreed with a smile, and he smiled back, pleased with his progress.

 

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