From Our First: A Promise Me Novel

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  I pressed my lips together and nodded before standing up to stretch my back. “Let’s look at that painting again for Liam, and we can come up with a plan.”

  “As long as you charge me full price,” Arden said, nodding at me. “No family discount.”

  “Oh, there’s going to be a family discount, didn’t you just say I was connected?” I tried to sound light, as if I didn’t have a care in the world. But she saw right through that, and I didn’t blame her.

  I didn’t know what I felt for or about Nate, and I wasn’t good at hiding that I was lost.

  And Arden saw right through it.

  We made a plan for Liam. I would drop off the painting at his birthday party, rather than Arden taking it now and hiding it from him. I didn’t mind, and I thought it would look perfect in their home, picturing where it would be in Liam’s office.

  I figured I could go back to work, or maybe I should read a book or rest my brain for a bit. My mind was going in a thousand different directions, and it was hard for me to focus on anything. And it didn’t help that I kept thinking about Nate and what our future could be.

  I was so scared. So scared to want to feel and to be. So, I wouldn’t.

  This was a momentary place in time.

  Eventually, we would walk away and be friends. However, the sooner we did that, the easier it would be—and the less pain there would be in the end.

  The doorbell rang, and I frowned, trying to figure out who it could be. Honestly, it could be anyone since everybody kept trying to see what was up with Nate and me; they constantly stopped by.

  I shook my head, a smile playing on my face as I opened the door, only to frown as soon as I saw who was there.

  “Mother.”

  My mother stormed in, not even bothering to ask to be allowed inside. Her high heels clicked on my hardwood as she spun and narrowed her eyes.

  The house was the same as it had been before. Cleaner even since my ladies had already been through to help me with any dust and vacuuming.

  My mother hated the place, that was clear, and that made me love it even more.

  There was probably something wrong with me.

  “Why don’t you come right in?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from going too cold. I knew I was failing.

  “You need to stop whatever you’re doing.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not doing anything, Mother. I’m simply trying to live my life.”

  “You are stealing from your family.”

  I took a step back and shook my head. “How could I possibly be stealing from the family? I rarely talk to you. I have nothing to do with you.”

  “And yet, my mother’s seen fit to give you everything. What did she see in you?” Her gaze traveled the length of my body, a look of distaste covering her features.

  I tried not to let the slight hurt, the idea that my mother wanted nothing to do with me, and all she saw was what was lacking. But I couldn’t let it do too much.

  Not when everything hurt already to begin with.

  “You need to go. We’re already talking through our lawyers. Let’s continue doing that.”

  My mother snarled. “You think it’s so easy? To walk away and think you get everything. I don’t know what you did to my mother, but I will never forgive you for daring to take what is not yours.”

  “You need to leave. I loved Grandma. I wish I could have convinced her to come out here. To be in a place she loved. But in the end, she wanted to be where she lost her husband. Your father. And I understood that. But I didn’t convince Grandma to do anything. I never expected anything from her but her love. And I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. You took that away from me.”

  “Stop it. I took nothing from you. You’re the one daring to take from us.”

  “That’s a lie, and you know it.”

  “You are going to regret this. Believe me.”

  She stormed past me and went to my front door. “We’re officially contesting the will. I gave you your last chance. You’ll be sorry.” And then she blew out of my house, leaving me standing there, wondering how the hell I had come from that woman.

  My hands shook, and I wanted to call Nate, to have him tell me that everything would be okay and hold me.

  But I didn’t.

  That would be leaning on him too much. And I wasn’t ready for that. I needed to remain cold and distant. If I relied on anyone too much, it would only hurt when things broke later.

  So, I let out a breath and called my cousin. Lacey picked up after the first ring. “Hey there. How are you?”

  Tears pricked the backs of my eyes, but I ignored them. They wouldn’t help anyone. “My mother was just here. They’re officially contesting the will. It might hurt the trust for your kids, as well.”

  Lacey cursed under her breath, very imaginative utterances that I would have to write down for later.

  “Are you okay? Do you need me to drive down there?”

  Tears once again threatened.

  “I’m okay. She’s said worse things to me.”

  Lacey paused long enough that I was afraid I had said too much.

  “Just because you’re used to her attitude and the way she treats you doesn’t make it right.”

  “Perhaps. But I can’t change her. I can only try to be myself.”

  “That sounds perfect to me, and very much like something Grandma would say. If you need me, I’m here. And my husband’s family and I can take care of my children. We always have. Grandma Sharon’s extra little bump would have been a nice way to secure their futures, but we can take care of our own if your parents and Roland ruin everything.”

  “It might be the other cousins, too. Not only Roland.”

  “Oh, I know. You were always the sane one of the bunch.”

  I smiled. “Funny, I used to think that about you.”

  “I’m here if you need me. I might bring the whole family down to bug you for a meal one day. We live so close now. We need to be a family.”

  My heart warmed, surprising me that it could after such a horrendous evening. “You’re right. We do need to be a family. And I’m glad you’re close.”

  “You know, Grandma was the one who pushed me to marry the man I love. To take that leap and to move out here. She gave me all the guidance I needed.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “It seems there are a lot of things we don’t know about each other. Let’s figure them out.”

  We talked for a few more minutes, and I already felt lighter as we hung up. We would make plans to meet up and have a meal. I wanted to see her children, meet the family she had made on her own.

  Lacey seemed well adjusted and as if she had made a good life for herself.

  Maybe I could do that someday, but I wasn’t sure that’s what I was made for.

  Lacey’s mother wasn’t as cruel as mine, after all. And Lacey hadn’t been broken because of lies and deceit.

  I pushed those thoughts from my head and went back to my studio. I would relax later. Maybe I could put whatever I was feeling into my painting. Or I could simply forget.

  My phone dinged, and I looked down, seeing a text from Nate.

  Nate: Thinking of you. Have a good night, babe.

  I didn’t smile. I didn’t do anything. I only remembered the hurt of when I’d walked away before, when my parents had ruined everything.

  They had broken Nate and me before, and my mother had threatened us again.

  What would they do this time?

  And what would we believe?

  I put away my phone and went back to work, telling myself that I would call him later. That I would pretend that everything was okay.

  But that was my fear, that I was only pretending.

  What would happen when reality crashed in, and I had to face what was there, and what clearly wasn’t?

  Chapter 18

  Nate

  * * *

  I stood in the studio, looking around at the art pieces, my hear
t racing. “I knew you were talented, baby, but I didn’t know you had this in you. I should have, but wow, I’m speechless.”

  Myra blushed, even though she had her back straight, the rest of her unflappable, but that little blush told me I’d connected to something.

  And, damn it, that’s what I’d wanted to do.

  “I’m glad you feel that way, because my art show is coming up soon. I’d better have a good basis for what needs to go on those bare walls.”

  I shook my head and took a couple of steps towards her. I cupped her face and met her gaze. “There’s enough talent in your little pinky finger to take my breath away. I’m honored that you showed me these before you showed your agent.”

  She shrugged, her eyes downcast.

  She had done that a lot over the past week. Pulling away slightly as if everything was a bit too much for her. I didn’t know why. We had been doing well—at least I’d thought. But she had been pulling away ever so slightly, and I didn’t know how to make her stop.

  “Anyway, I have eighteen pieces, but they want twenty. I can’t decide between what I have or if I have time to figure something else out. Maybe eighteen will have to do.”

  “You’ve been working your ass off for how long now? Eighteen should be plenty.”

  She shook her head and went over to her easel area, looking between two pieces that I knew were nearly done. I didn’t know how she could work on more than one thing at once. I could only work on one project at a time, but she put what was at the front of her mind out on the canvas, and if it happened to be something she had started on six months ago and needed a little more work, that’s what she did.

  Myra was a fantastic multi-tasker. It was a little scary.

  “This whole project has been mostly portraits, although a little more abstract than usual. I’ve been harsher with my brush strokes recently, and I have a feeling it has more to do with the stress of my family than anything else. I’m not a fan of the way that’s seeping into my work.”

  I looked at the two portraits, one of an older woman, someone I’d never met before in my life. She looked sad, at least until you saw her eyes. There, you saw a life long-lived, one filled with a past and perhaps hope for whatever future she held in her hands.

  “This one’s stunning. You can see every year she’s lived.”

  “She is one of Dakota’s regulars. I asked if I could sketch her for this project, and she readily agreed. She’s always wanted to be in a painting, especially after the movie Titanic came out, and she kept joking with her late husband about him drawing her like one of his French girls.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “How many times have people actually used that line on you?”

  “Mostly, it’s been you,” she said dryly and then laughed before I turned to see the other canvas.

  I blinked, looking down at the man lying on his stomach on a soft bed, the angles of his back shown, a sheet covering enough for modesty but the rest on display.

  His eyes were closed in sleep, a peaceful expression on his face. But there were scars, too, ones that would never go away, not after the accident.

  “I didn’t know you drew me,” I said, my mouth going dry.

  Myra twisted her fingers together. “This one’s probably for me. Or you. I didn’t ask. You were sleeping one day, and I got the urge to draw. And then I started painting, and here we are. You don’t need to even look at this. I’m not going to show it to anyone.”

  I shook my head, then held my hand out as she tried to move the canvas away.

  “I love it. I like that you covered my ass, so when my brothers see this, they won’t make fun of me. But if you want to use it, go for it. Anything you want, Myra, you can have it.”

  She shook her head and pulled away again. Damn it, what was wrong?

  “No, it’s not right yet. Nothing is.” She ran her hands through her hair, her motions jerky.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head again. “Nothing. I’m just a little tired. And stressed out over this. And I guess my parents, too. I’m sorry. I’m always like this before a show, it just seems to be a little compounded right now. The painting’s fine, but I don’t think it’s good enough for the exhibit.”

  I put my hand over my heart and took a staggering step back. “Ouch. I’m not good enough for your show?”

  Her eyes widened, and I wanted to reach out and tell her that I was only kidding, but given the way she’d blanched, I felt like I had hit a nerve, and I didn’t know how to make it better.

  “Myra, I was only teasing you.”

  “No, you’re right. This isn’t right for the show. I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I’ve done how many art shows now? Two or three like this at least. Why would anyone want to come and look at these paintings? They’re not good enough. They’re not like your friend on the other side of town.”

  “Lincoln has his style, and it’s not in competition with yours. You get along with him.”

  “I know how well Lincoln does. He’s brilliant. And I’m nowhere near his level.”

  “Is this nerves about the show? Or is this something else?”

  She started to pace, wringing her hands together.

  “I don’t know. It’s just a lot right now. Everything seems to be happening at once, and I think I need to breathe.”

  I froze, trying to catch up.

  “Do you want to go for a drive? I haven’t had a headache in a while. I’m good for driving you around. We can go borrow Cross’s Jeep and take the top down, drive to the mountains. Whatever you want.”

  She looked at me then, a mask on her face that I didn’t recognize. “No, I don’t need that. I don’t know what I need, Nate. I need some time.”

  I swallowed hard, trying not to take her words as what they sounded like. A brush-off.

  “You need time for the show? Or to go over what your parents are putting you through?”

  “Maybe all of that? I don’t know. I’m so afraid for the shoe to drop. Because you know my parents are going to try something. They want what my grandmother gave me. Sometimes, I feel like it would be easier if I just gave it to them.”

  I moved a step forward and took her hand. “We both know that’s not the right answer. The law is on your side. Your parents will drop the suit.”

  She let out a laugh that didn’t hold any humor. “We both know that’s a lie. My parents are never going to stop until they get what they want. Look what they did to us. They made you believe I was some horrible person, and we both walked away because of it. They’re going to do something more. I know it. They’re going to try to hurt you or your family to get at me. And I don’t know what I’m going to do about it.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to keep up.

  “Everything is moving so fast. I haven’t even had time to grieve, and now I have to deal with the stupidity that is this suit. They’re contesting the will. They’re saying that I did horrible things to get my grandmother to give me everything. And I didn’t even want it. I only wanted her. I moved away from my parents and her because I couldn’t stand being near the people who raised me. But I ended up putting distance between myself and the one person in my family I thought was really mine.”

  “She knew you loved her. And she loved you. She wrote about it in the will.”

  “And all it’s doing is creating more rifts between my family and me. I’m just so tired, Nate. Between that and the show, it’s a lot.”

  Something hovering beneath her words worried me, and I swallowed hard, afraid of what would happen if I turned over that stone.

  “I’m here. You’re not alone. All of us are here for you. Why don’t we go back to the living room, get you some wine, and talk about it? Get everything out.” Was I talking too fast? Could she hear the fear in my voice?

  “Nate. I don’t think it’s going to be enough. Don’t you see? Everything is happening so fast, and I can’t keep up. And I’m so afraid that if I make the wrong choice, make another
mistake, I’m going to lose everything and everyone. My parents have done so much, and it’s hurt me. It breaks everybody in their path. I’m terrified if I take the wrong step, I’ll turn into them and it’ll hurt me, too.”

  I shook my head. “You are not them. You could never be.”

  “I ran when it got too hard before, and I lost you. I let myself believe that I could love again and now look at us.”

  I paused. “What are you talking about, Myra?”

  “Look at us. We’re right back where we started. Everything’s moving so fast, and I can’t keep up. I’m so afraid that I’m going to fuck up.”

  “Stop it. You’re not going to fuck up. You are not fucking up.”

  “Nate. I messed up so badly before. I didn’t... I just let myself fall into my parents’ trap, and they’re going to hurt you. They’re going to find a way to hurt you, or your family, or our friends. And I don’t know how to stop that from happening.”

  “You’re not alone in this. Stop it, Myra. Can’t you see that I’m not going anywhere? I fucking love you, Myra West.”

  We both froze, the words having ripped from me.

  Her whole body went pale, her mouth dropping open. I felt like someone had punched me in the chest.

  “Nate.”

  “No, don’t say anything. Don’t make it look as if I hit you when I told you I loved you.”

  “You loved me before. You don’t know what you’re thinking or feeling now. It’s moving too fast.”

  I cursed and pulled away from her, pacing across her studio. “It hasn’t been that fast. We’ve been in each other’s lives for over a year now.”

  “We only learned the truth a few weeks ago. It’s fast, Nate. We’re not there. We can’t be. If we go too fast again, we’ll break like before. And I can’t have that happen. I can’t hurt you. Or lose everything because we’re not thinking clearly enough.”

  I whirled on her, rage pounding within me even though I tried to push it back. “I get that you’re scared, but you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”