by Fiona Cole
We snickered, mine quickly followed by an unladylike sniff.
“That was a bottle of tequila and nothing goes well when you drink tequila straight from the bottle. Now,” Raelynn faced me, looking like a prim and proper politician’s daughter, perched on the edge of the couch. All except for the way she clutched her bottle of wine. “Talk.”
Snatching my own bottle from the table, I brought it to my lips, taking long pulls. The spicy, berry wine took the taste of Nico away, and I drank more, wanting to do all I could to wash him from every part of me while also wanting to keep every part of him close.
I sat the bottle down with a thud and started from when we walked into the lobby to find my father. By the time I was done, both women looked like they were ready to burn the world down for me.
“What an asshole,” Nova said.
“That mother fucking liar,” Raelynn added.
“The worst part,” I said, huffing a laugh without humor. “I love him. I love him so much.”
I tried to swallow down the tears, but they slipped free, and Nova grabbed my hand for support.
“Do you think he cares for you, too?” she asked.
“I guess a part of me hoped he did. Our honeymoon had been amazing. We got to know each other. We laughed and bonded and the sex—god, the sex. He just…saw me.”
“It sounds like he cares,” Nova said.
“I don’t know because now everything is colored with this lie. Every business conversation, every question he asked, every time he got to know me, now makes me see it as a way for him to get information to steal my family’s company. The trip to France when I thought he just wanted more time alone together? Now I see it for what it was, just a ploy to keep me away. All of it was a lie, and I was the stupid fool who started to believe it.”
“You are not stupid,” Raelynn vehemently scolded. “You reacted to the information you were given, and there were no clues to make you think otherwise.”
“You said Nicholas did it for revenge, but why?” Nova asked.
I ran through the evening, trying to remember everything that was said but also trying to make it all go away at the same time. “I-I’m not sure. Something about his family’s company. I think my father did something.”
“What a dick,” Raelynn said. “That’s a mess between two men fighting with their dicks. Why the hell did he have to pull you in?”
“I-I don’t know.” My voice wobbled over more tears. I’d asked myself that same question on the ride over. Why couldn’t he have just left me alone? None of this pain would have happened if he’d just have left me alone.
Yeah, then you would be married to Camden and never know what love was.
I hated the stupid voice in my head. If this was love, then it could fuck off.
“God,” I groaned. “Maybe I should have just married Camden.”
“Ew, no,” Nova said, cringing. “If nothing else, the silver lining from all of this is that you aren’t married to Camden.”
“Hear, hear,” Raelynn said, raising her bottle.
We clinked bottles, and all took a drink.
“So, what are you going to do?”
I huffed a laugh. “I don’t know. I have no house, no job—because I’m sure as hell not going back to work for him. I have nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Raelynn said. “You have us. And me? I have more than everything. We’ll figure it out, and you can stay here while you do it. If all else fails, we can move forward with the platonic love island.”
“Now there’s the real mistake. Fuck, thinking you should have just married Camden. We really should have just run away when Rae offered it.”
We all laughed at Nova’s statement.
Raelynn gave Nova and me a change of clothes, and we curled up on the couch, a second bottle of wine each. But no matter how much I tried to lose myself in my friends—to focus on how much love I had for them—my heart refused to forget how much I loved Nico.
And it hurt over and over again when I reminded the stupid organ that he was a liar and didn’t love us back.
How could he?
Thirty-Five
Nico
I muted the television, not wanting to listen to the newscaster report on the hostile takeover of Mariano Shipping. My biggest dream for over a decade scrolled across the bottom of one of the biggest business channels, and I sat sprawled on my couch, missing my wife.
I called my grandpa to check in on him, but he was having a bad day, and I used that as an excuse to not visit. But four days had passed, and I knew I needed to go. The problem was that I knew he would make me look at myself in the mirror. He’d make me face what I’d done. He always had. When I used to imagine going to tell him I finally won for us, I imagined his reprimanding glare for holding on to revenge, but also the glint of pride in his eyes at knowing a debt had been paid.
Now, I knew any glint of pride would be dashed with I told you so.
“How is he today?” I asked James, the orderly who worked with my grandpa the most.
“Better.” His answer was quickly followed by a wince that had me wincing with him, imagining what had happened. “Two days ago, not so much.”
“What happened?”
“I had family matters to attend to, and it was Asher’s day off,” he explained, referring to the other orderly who helped out. “So, Jane worked with him.”
“Shit,” I groaned, wiping my hand down my face.
“He uh…it wasn’t the best day to have her with him.”
He rubbed the back of his neck like the memory alone brought back the tension. I could relate.
“What did he do?”
“You know it’s not him. His brain…it just…it’s different now.” I appreciated James’s attempt to avoid answering and trying to smooth over any wrongdoings.
“I know. It doesn’t make it easier.”
“It never does for anyone. Watching someone’s mind fade is hard—watching them become a completely different person in the process is impossible. If you ever need to talk…”
He left it hanging like he always did, waiting for me to take him up on his offer. Like always, I shook my head. “What did he do?”
“He flashed her. Like all of himself.”
“Jesus.”
“And tried to chase her when she ran from the room.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Yeah. She’s fine, and Charlie’s apologized at least a million times. Ordered flowers and chocolates and drops his head like a kicked dog whenever she comes around.”
I closed my eyes, waiting for the anger to surface like it did every time I got updates on how his dementia affected him that week. Instead, I just hurt.
I had no more revenge to cling to. I had no wife to hold on to.
No, I was left with what I already had and with nothing to do but face it, and it just plain, flat-out hurt. Now, I was left with knowing what it could feel like when I had it all. I knew taking Lorenzo’s company from him wouldn’t fix my grandpa, but I’d hoped it would—I don’t know. Ease any of this weight pressing in on me. Maybe it would have made it easier to manage—to understand and accept. Instead, I still wanted to rage and make it all go away. I was still pissed he was fading from me, slipping through my fingers like sand.
Maybe that was the theme of my life. I had people long enough just to make me love them, and then they slipped away.
“Thanks, James,” I said, pushing the melancholy aside. My grandpa had already beaten himself up enough; he didn’t need me going in with disappointed stares.
“Hey Grandpa,” I said, walking into the room.
“Hey…Um…Dammit.”
“Ni—”
“Nicholas. There it is. Always on the tip of my tongue.”
“I do the same thing all the time,” I said, but we both knew I rarely struggled with recalling names. My mind was sharp—just like his used to be.
He laughed awkwardly before taking me in. His head tipped to the side, and his white
brows pinched together. “What’s wrong, Nicholas?”
Plopping down in the chair across from his couch, I blew out a long breath, sagging back like a deflating balloon. “I bought Mariano Shipping last week.”
Just as I predicted, a spark of pride flashed before his lips flattened, and he shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, I admitted it all—ripping the Band-Aid off.
“And Vera found out the night we got back—from her father confronting us in the lobby. She hasn’t spoken to me since she stormed out.”
His eyes slid closed, and he shook his head slowly. It reminded me of the night I crashed the car when I’d only been fifteen. I’d wanted to be yelled at. I wanted anything other than his disappointment. Just like then, I hung my head and stared at my closed palms and twirling thumbs.
“Have you tried to talk to her?”
My eyes flicked up and down, wincing, thinking about the single message I sent asking to talk—the one she didn’t respond to. “No.”
He laughed softly, and I winced again. Silence stretched, and I cowardly kept my head down. Nicholas Knightly Rush, CEO of K. Rush Shipping, alpha male who dominated the shipping industry, no longer sat on the couch. No, Nico, the rebellious teenager, sat there feeling ashamed.
“You know your grandma played a bigger role in the company than anyone realized. She may not have actually worked there, but she was my own board of directors. I went to her with almost everything, and she knew the ins and outs just from being my wife and picking up things as she grew up in the world. But it wasn’t always that way.”
I couldn’t imagine it not being that way. That woman had worn pearls and stood tall, her confidence in herself like an aura that followed her everywhere, making people take notice. She’d raised my mother to have the same attributes. My father had been an equally strong man, but I’d emulated my strength from the two women who raised me.
“Man,” he started, laughing. “I made a business decision that she’d advised against. The deal had been too good to not take, even if it screwed some people in the process. That was business. But, Diana? Whew, boy. She told me not to do it, but I did it anyway. I told myself that I knew better—that she didn’t need to know. Except then she asked me directly, and I couldn’t say any of those things to her face, so I lied. Nicholas, when your grandmother found out, she didn’t even fight. We’d been married barely a year, and she calmly let me know, a marriage of lies was no marriage at all, packed her bags, and left.”
“She left you?” My brows shot to my hairline. I’d witnessed my grandparents bicker more than enough—I’d also witnessed them forgiving each other, but I’d never seen my grandma truly mad. I’d never seen anything but love between them.
“Yup. My macho pride held me back from chasing her for three whole days, but it was all a façade for how scared I was she’d never come back. Times were different then, and I reasoned that if she wanted me, she’d come to me. Then I reasoned that if she wasn’t coming to me, then she must have been too mad to talk, and she’d come around. On day three, my façade crumbled, and I went to her. She’d opened the door with her chin high like a regal queen. I’d apologized, and she asked for what. Let me tell you, that was not the response I expected. She sure didn’t throw herself in my arms like I’d hoped.”
I laughed and couldn’t help but imagine Vera looking the same way—chin high and proud.
“What did she do?”
“Well, when I told her I was sorry for lying, she said it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t be with a criminal and crook. Business may have been business, but she needed to be married to someone who also had some humanity and compassion. Slammed the door and didn’t answer it again for another week.”
“What did you do to make her talk?” I sat up on the edge of the couch, eager for answers. Maybe he could tell me what to do. Maybe he had the answers to avoid losing Vera.
“First, I got mad and drunk all over again. Then, I thought about what she’d said. Not just when I went to her, but before when she’d advised me against the deal. I’d begrudgingly admitted that she’d been right. And if I didn’t believe that, then I wouldn’t have had to lie to her about it. The deal had been a shit move—the kind of move I didn’t want for our company, and I was avoiding having her make me face that truth—make me look in the mirror to find the kind of man who swindled back door deals for extra money. So, I’d lied to her, compounding the issue. Once I faced that truth, I set about fixing it.”
“How?” I almost begged.
“I undid it. I set aside my greed and need to win and chose my wife. She didn’t want to be married to a man who lied to win, and I loved her enough to not want it for her either. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let her go to find someone else, so I changed me. I went back and pulled out of the deal, giving it back to the company I stole it from, and the next time I went to your grandma, I went with humility and the contract to prove I’d be the man she wanted. I swore to never lie again, and only then did she finally forgive me.”
“I can’t give the company back to Lorenzo,” I stated. “He was running it into the ground, and frankly, the way he treated Vera makes me even less inclined to undo it. I was going to give her the company, but I never got a chance to tell her.”
“Sometimes, chances aren’t given to us—we have to take them.”
“What if she still leaves me. What if she can’t forgive me, takes the company and runs.”
“Ahh, Nicholas,” he sighed. “Doing the right thing doesn’t come with a guarantee, but you do it because you want it more for her than you want it for yourself.”
Dropping my head, I rubbed a hand along the back of my neck, not pleased with my options. Of course, I wanted her to be happy. I just wanted to be happy with her. I wanted to enjoy a life of making her happy every day—one where I go to wake up to her fresh-faced freckles and dimples.
“Do you love her?”
Not bothering to look up, I nodded.
“What happened to barely liking each other?”
This time I did look up with a deadpanned stare. I heard the I told you so in his voice. “You want me to tell you that you were right?”
“It never hurts to hear.”
I groaned, and he leaned forward to pat my shoulder.
“I saw it the moment you told me about her. I saw it in you both when I watched you say your vows, but you two were a stubborn match, and I knew it would be a hard trip. I just hoped you brought your own humility and maybe realized you loved her more than your revenge before it was too late.”
“Obviously, you have too much faith in me.”
“Do I? I think you’ll figure it out.”
“How?”
“Oh, Nicholas,” he said, laughing. “Thirty-five years old and still coming to me for answers—even with a half-assed brain.”
“You’re still the smartest man I know.”
Pain stopped his smile from reaching his eyes, knowing each day he lost more and more. “Either way, there are some things we need to answer ourselves. That’s how we truly learn and don’t make the same mistake again.”
“Grandpa…”
“You’re the smartest man I know. You’ll figure it out.”
I wanted to press more, but James came and let me know time was up. My grandpa had therapy and dinner.
“Stop thinking about you, Nicholas. Put yourself in her shoes and figure out what you can do for her in spite of yourself. Put your pride aside and be vulnerable enough to let her hurt you. Otherwise, you’ll never know.”
His final words followed me the whole way home. I thought about it all night, another bottle of bourbon for company. For the hell of it, I even grabbed my phone and sent the message I’d typed and deleted a thousand times.
Me: I’m sorry.
I typed at least ten more.
I miss you.
I fucked up.
Call me.
Can I call you?
I miss your body.
Stop being so stubborn.
I love you.
All of them deleted. Especially the last one. If Vera ever let me speak to her again, I’d be sure to say it to her face, make sure she heard me. I even considered calling my driver, going to her right then, and telling her, but I did as my grandpa suggested and put myself in her shoes.
She’d assume I was lying again, and I couldn’t blame her.
But it didn’t mean I couldn’t start a plan to make it better. Unfortunately, I had to admit that I didn’t know my wife as well as I wanted to, and maybe some outside assistance would help.
Knowing she’d probably threaten my manhood, I braced myself and hit send.
Me: I need to talk to her. But I need her to hear me.
Raelynn: Fuck off.
Me: Please.
Raelynn: I may be listening but no guarantees. Maybe if you beg more.
Me: I fucked up—with her. Not you. I’ll happily beg for her.
Raelynn: Girl code states if you fuck up with her, you fuck up with the friends. Honestly, I’d be more scared of Nova than me right now.
Me: I’ll make it up to you all, but I can’t if she won’t even listen to me.
Raelynn: Oh, you mean she didn’t respond to the most curt message demanding a time to talk. Wow. I’m shooketh.
Me: Jesus.
Me: Like I said, I fucked up. I won’t explain to you because it’s between us, but I want to make it better for her. Even if it’s not better for me.
Me: But I can’t do that if she won’t talk to me.
Raelynn: Do you love her?
Me: That’s between Vera and me.
Raelynn: …
Raelynn: Fine. Maybe I can help orchestrate a time to talk.
Raelynn: But if you make it worse. I’ll rip your eyes out.
Me: Noted.
One of the four-hundred bands squeezing my chest snapped loose. It still hurt to breathe without her, but I’d take the iota of release reaching out to Rae gave me. She laid out when I could come over the weekend and said she would help keep Vera there to hear me out.
It didn’t guarantee me anything, but at least it was a start.