by Leddy Harper
Ronnie moved around the chair she had used to hold her up and sat in it. “That’s not true. I am fully aware of how badly you’re hurting right now, which is why I’m saying all this to you. Your pain comes from an assumption you made when you read text messages on her phone and didn’t ask her about them. You didn’t give her a chance to explain or provide accurate information. Had you done that, and she still told you everything you assumed, then I would be right there with you helping you pack her shit. You know that. But when you put words in her mouth and then refuse to give her the chance to correct you, I can’t stand by that. And you wouldn’t either if this were happening to someone else. Ask yourself this, Holden. Are you going to give up every time you don’t see eye to eye?”
I took a deep breath and absorbed her words, as if I’d breathed them into my lungs and let them begin to pump life back into my veins. “So now what am I supposed to do? Call her up and ask for the answers? Isn’t it a little pointless now? She’s run off to claim the money with that douchecanoe. What good will her answers do now?”
“You really are a twit.” She picked up a pen and threw it at me.
“Seriously, I think we need an office meeting to inform everyone about the dangers of throwing writing utensils at people.”
She narrowed her gaze and bit back her smile when she said, “There are only three people who work in this office. What kind of meeting are you expecting to have, and how many people here throw pens?”
“You’d be surprised.”
Ronnie picked up another and held it in the air as if threatening to throw that one at me, too. “Stop deflecting. We’re talking about Janelle here. Let’s get back on track. If she’s moving on with this whole wedding for cha-ching thing, then that’s your fault. You can’t push her in that direction and then use that as an excuse to not right your wrongs.”
“I get it, but I can’t do anything about it. She made up her mind when she left. She didn’t argue or fight with me like…like…”
“Like you expected her to? Like what, Holden? Like you think she should have? Did you do all that—take down her bed and pack her clothes—just to see what reaction you’d provoke? Did you honestly think you could load her belongings up in a car, accuse her of being shady behind your back, and she somehow wouldn’t leave when you told her to?”
“No!” I slammed both fists on the desk, releasing my anger for the first time since Janelle walked away and never looked back. “But I expected more. Five years ago, she packed her bags and left. No phone call, no knock on my door. Nothing. She moved away and left me behind.”
Ronnie scooted forward to the very edge of the chair and leaned as far across my desk as she could reach. With the calmest voice I’d ever heard her use, she held my hand and asked, “And what did you do for her?”
“Not sure what you mean.”
“Janelle was eighteen, correct? She woke up in a hotel room, no longer holding her V card, learning she gave it to you but couldn’t remember.”
“And then kicked me out of the shower, making me feel like the biggest piece of shit that ever walked the earth,” I added, filling in the rest for her in case she didn’t remember that part of the story. “So again, what was it I was supposed to do for her?”
“Let me just go back a second or two…to the part where I pointed out that she’d had sex for the very first time, losing her virginity, something she had held onto all that time, and couldn’t remember any of it. I’ve never had a real dick up in me, but I can tell you if I couldn’t remember my first time—no matter how freaking awful it was—I’d be miserable. But if I woke up like she did, knowing the guy was basically part of my family and I’d never be able to hide from him again, I’d probably want to crawl into a hole and die. I most certainly wouldn’t want to share a shower with him.”
I couldn’t do anything other than sit and listen, because I had never thought about this perspective before. And I hated that I never once understood what it had been like for Janelle. I’d thought about it, about how she must’ve felt, but not once had I ever been able to fully comprehend everything Ronnie was explaining now.
“Then she gets on a plane and realizes the seat next to her is empty. Your seat. You slept with her and then couldn’t even stomach flying home with her. Imagine what she must’ve gone through on that plane. It takes effort to switch a flight—and money. Which basically means your empty seat told her you’d rather waste time and money than be forced to sit next to her. That’s not the message I’m sure you meant to send, but I’m willing to bet that’s what she received loud and clear.”
“Didn’t you say my entire problem is because I came to my own conclusions? Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”
“Nope. Not at all. I’m a woman, I have a vagina, I know how we think. Straight or not, we have the same thought process—well, most of us do. But anyway, I am willing to bet that’s how she felt that morning. And to sum up the rest of her summer, you avoided her. Did you not? So now, after hearing all that, can you please explain to me why she should’ve reached out to you after she moved away?”
“What was I supposed to do?”
“You were supposed to do exactly what you should do now—go after her!”
“You mean go to New York?”
“Is she in New York, Holden?” she asked, full of sass and attitude. When I nodded, she clucked her tongue and fluttered her eyes. “Then yes, go to her. Beg her for forgiveness, tell her what a loser you are and that you’ll spend the rest of your life making it up to her. I don’t care if you promise her the freaking moon. Go get her!”
I sat at my desk, surrounded by Ronnie’s words long after she fled the room. I knew she was right, I just wasn’t sure how to go about the situation. It wasn’t until I found myself standing in Matt’s office, words falling off my tongue before I figured out how to handle it.
“You’re taking more time off? Seriously, Holden, I feel like I’ve been here all by myself ever since Janelle got sick.”
“That’s not true. I took a few days off when she was ill, yes, but I worked from home and even came in for a few hours on that Friday. That’s not fair. I’ve never held your time off against you.”
He held up his hands and his eyes grew wide. “I’m messing with you. It was just a joke. Calm down and tell me what’s gotten you so worked up. What do you need the time off for anyway? Is this what’s got you wound tight?”
“I’m going to New York.”
“Is there something going on there that I’m not privy to? First Janelle, now you.”
“Well, I’m going there because of her. I want to go there to get her, because I was an asshole and pushed her away. So now I need to go grovel and beg her to forgive me.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’ve got the hots for my sister?” His tone gave nothing away, so I had nothing to go on. Then again, it didn’t really matter. I knew ahead of time that I would do anything, regardless of reactions or objections. Matt was my best friend, like a brother to me, but if he had a problem with me and Janelle, he’d just have to deal with it. Because I refused to let anything ever get in the way of us again.
“I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with her.”
His eyes grew large, and he began to choke.
“I’ve been in love with her for a really long time.”
“How long?”
“Funny story…so you see, when we were all in Vegas for your wedding—”
“I swear to God, Holden…” He rose from his chair, red faced and hands fisted. “If you fucked my baby sister—”
“I married her!”
We stood facing each other, a desk separating us, both breathing heavily and unsure of the other’s response. Then he relaxed, the anger vanishing before my eyes. “You did what?”
“The night of your wedding, after the reception, we hung out. We walked the strip and watched some shows, and when we were done, we decided to go to a chapel and get married. We had the whole thing planned out.
But you see, when we got back home, reality started to settle in and then she left for college…it didn’t exactly turn out the way we thought it would.”
“So…you guys aren’t married?”
“Yeah, we are. Or, at least I think we still are. In a nutshell, I got pissed off over something I more than likely misunderstood, and I sent her away with signed papers that would dissolve the legality of our marriage. And I’m praying I can get to her before they can be filed, or before any other damage can be made.”
Matt stared at me, blinking, for what seemed like forever. Then the corners of his mouth tilted, and I was certain it’d all be okay. “To be honest, I thought you had a thing for her. I noticed it at the barbecue at Lakes Park. But I didn’t think you two had actually done anything about it, and when she left, I assumed that was the end of it. I had no idea about any of the other stuff.”
“No one did. She didn’t want anyone in the family to be told.”
He nodded but kept on. “I get it, but I really wish I would’ve been informed. Ya know? You’re my best friend, and she’s my little sister. Of course there’s no one who could take care of her like you, and I’m more than excited about you actually being my brother. What upsets me is the not being made aware of it. Since Christine and I got married?”
I nodded and shrugged, hoping this was something we could get past rather soon.
“So this means you guys have the same anniversary as we do?”
“Technically, it’s the next day, because by the time it was all said and done, it was after midnight. But yeah, one day later. You can see why we never said anything to anyone, right?”
Matt came around the desk and clapped me on the back. “You should probably go get your wife. A week in New York City is a horrible idea for anyone, let alone Janelle. And you better make it grand. No fucking knocking on her door and giving her some lame excuse for your dickless decisions. Man the fuck up.”
I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. “I will. I promise you, I won’t leave until she’s mine again.”
As I ran out of the office, Ronnie called out after me, “Where are you going?”
“To rescue my bride.”
21
Holden
In the movies, when someone makes such a profound statement about chasing after the woman of their dreams, even flying across the country to do so, it looks like it takes maybe an hour, two at the most. They don’t show all the hoops you jump through and red tape you have to tear down just to get there. Flights into New York at the last minute were outrageously expensive—if there were any seats available. Finally, after getting everything in order, I landed in New York almost nine hours later.
Then again, if the movies showed the reality of the trip, it wouldn’t be as romantic.
Even though, in my opinion, any woman who didn’t find a man spending half a day and a good chunk of his credit card limit just to get to her as being romantic had no heart.
However, the hours and hours of either waiting or waiting to wait gave me plenty of time to track her down. I wasn’t sure how I managed it, but after many phone calls and more than my fair share of favors, I had gotten the information I needed regarding her whereabouts. The last thing I wanted to do when I landed was wait for a bag, so I hadn’t packed one. I had everything I needed with me, and in the event she turned me away, I wouldn’t have anything to drag back home.
I ran outside the airport and fought to find a cab to take me to her hotel. And as soon as we got close enough, I paid the man and hopped out, unable to handle waiting in traffic any longer. Even the ride up in the elevator was torture, and by the time I made it to her door, I pounded on it frantically with my fist because I couldn’t waste another second before telling her how much I loved her.
How much I needed her.
And how fucking sorry I was.
But she didn’t answer the door—he did. I shoved past him and invited myself in, ignoring the smug grin I was about to wipe off his ugly face. The sight of the room had me frozen in place after only a few steps inside. A bra hung off the back of the couch, clothes strewn all over the room. My gut twisted and knotted, and I feared I’d vomit all over myself.
“She’s a feisty one, isn’t she?” he asked with wagging brows.
My arm, as if having a mind of its own, extended out, delivering my fist straight into the center of his face. It happened so fast it even surprised me, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t the one with the bloody nose. Nor was I the one who screamed like a girl.
“Where is she?” I demanded, a sudden fierceness coming over me. The thought of him touching her bothered me more than I could comprehend, but I had to remind myself I had no right to complain. I’d pushed her away and straight into his arms, so I deserved to suffer the consequences.
“Probably cleaning my come out of her pussy.”
It seemed as though my leg and arm ran on the same circuit, because while he remained hunched over, his hands covering his nose and mouth, my knee jerked up, right into his bloody face. This time, he fell to the floor, and I was pretty sure he started to cry.
“Oh my God!” Someone came running out of the room to the right. She had blond hair, but not like my Janelle. It wasn’t the color of honey. It was almost white like she’d washed it with bleach repeatedly. Naked as the day she was born—which by the looks of it, wasn’t that long ago—she ran to Pencil-Dick’s side and began to fawn all over him.
I stared in confusion for a moment before I bent over and picked up the lacy black bra. It reminded me of some of Janelle’s I’d seen around my room at home. Except when I did a double-take, this one had a lot of extra fabric in the cups, and I knew there was no way this would’ve fit her. She didn’t have large breasts, they were the perfect size for me, and this bra was made for someone who more than likely had—
I peered over my shoulder and assessed the blonde who offered first aid to Connor and tried to frantically stop his bleeding. The first thing I noticed were her obviously fake tits. From a quick guesstimation, it seemed as though this bra belonged to her. After tossing it back onto the couch where I’d found it, I heard a gasp that drew my attention to my left, and that’s when I finally found her.
“Janelle,” I whispered, followed by a confident, “baby.” My heart began to beat in a steady rhythm and my mind seemed to settle. It felt as if years had passed since my last interaction with her, instead of only one week. But one week had even been too long. I never wanted to be without her again. I was done wasting time on what ifs, could’ve beens and should’ves. No doubts remained that she was my forever.
However, she tried to slam the door in my face once I reached her.
“Come on, baby…please open the door. Let me in.” I hoped smooth-talking her would do the trick. When it didn’t seem to be working, I decided to go with force and apologize for it later. I shoved my shoulder into the door and pushed against it with caution to prevent hurting her in the process.
“Go away, Holden. I don’t want to see you.”
“Too bad, Jelly. Because I want to see you.”
And just like that, the door flew open, almost causing me to fall on my face. Once I righted myself, I flung the door closed behind me, trapping the two of us in the bedroom together and blocking out the bleeder and the naked one tending to him.
“Hear me out, Janelle. Please.”
She stood in the middle of the room with her arms crossed protectively over her chest. Her eyes mirrored my tiredness and her hair dangled all over as if she’d just woken up. “I heard you say enough during our last conversation. I don’t need to hear any more.”
“I know, but I’m asking you to hear me out, because I messed up. Please, baby, just let me say what I want to say, and if you want me to leave, I will.” I moved to her and grabbed her hands, pulling her arms away from her chest. Then I settled her on the edge of the bed, where I knelt between her legs and wrapped my arms around her waist. Her willingness to move and her silence gave me the co
nfidence I needed to continue. With her eyes locked on mine, I began the most important dialogue of my life. I had everything to lose.
“I’m so sorry, Janelle. I saw his messages, and the ones you sent back to him and I—”
“But I didn’t send any back to him. I ignored him. Didn’t you see that?”
“I did…but I’m talking about the ones prior to those. The ones where you told him you didn’t love me, and that you had a plan but needed him to give you a week. I read the one where you talked about how you wanted the money, and I jumped to conclusions without speaking to you first. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”
She ran her fingers through my hair, concentrating on her favorite spot right over my ears. The spot she always went to when we’d lie in bed together. “I just don’t understand why you reacted that way. Why didn’t you just talk to me about it? I would’ve explained it all to you. This could’ve been just a speedbump in our relationship instead of the end.”
“I know, but I guess I thought anything you said would be a lie.”
“You thought I’d lie to you? You don’t trust me?”
“I do. Instead of giving you the benefit of the doubt, I thought the worst.” I needed her to understand that I was telling the truth. “I trust you, but in that moment, I was scared shitless. Maybe what scared me the most was that you’d confess the one thing I feared the most.”
“What?” She studied my face with confusion as she waited for me to explain.
“I feared you’d admit that you didn’t have any feelings for me and were playing me all along. Finding out it had always been about the money devastated me.”
“What? No.” Her gaze narrowed and held me captive. “You thought that?”
“Kinda. No. Maybe.” I shook my head and closed my eyes, needing a moment to gather myself. “Honestly? I wasn’t sure how I felt after reading your texts. You’d told me that you worried I’d get the raw end of the deal. Then you told that dipshit you really wanted the money. I guess the final confirmation was when I asked you about it and you said it had always been about the money.”