by Kim Law
“Then what was the deal? Because you sure as fuck seemed to hate her.” Jaden quickly ran through a list of options and settled on the most obvious. “Was it more about jealousy?”
Nate’s gaze flicked to his.
“Because you saw it as me choosing her over you?”
His brother didn’t look away. Instead, a rare glint of vulnerability shone out from him. “That’s possible. I mean, I was here. I wasn’t doing anything else.” He shrugged. “Why not let me help?”
“I am letting you help.”
“Yet you’re avoiding the house.”
Jaden narrowed his focus on his brother. “You know what it was like growing up there.”
“I know very well. I had more years with her than you. Yet you’ve never avoided staying there when you’ve come home before. So why now?”
Why not now, Jaden wanted to lob back. He didn’t, though, because it would answer nothing. It would be no more than a childish taunt. Nate did make him think about the question, though. Really think about it for the first time. He’d assumed he was avoiding the house due to memories of their mother ignoring him when he was a kid. Of never being there for him. Never being a mother.
But Nate had a point. Why now? What was different now?
And how was it that this had turned into Nate trying to counsel him?
Jaden scowled at the thought. Arsula had brought this very subject up before, but suddenly, he found himself wondering if there was more to his reasoning than simply avoiding the house his mother had lived in. Had Arsula been clueing in to something he’d missed?
Nate turned back to the building sitting before them. “We’ve all got issues, Jay. Even you. You’re staying here with her already—which is a giant red flag that you do have issues, by the way—so why not spend some of that time talking to her? Seeing if it helps?”
Because he didn’t want to admit he needed help.
“I’m fine,” he assured his brother. “You’ve got it all wrong. No issues for me. And also . . . there’s nothing wrong with continuing my education.”
He reached for the door.
“Except maybe it’s your way of trying to best Cord.”
Jaden’s fingers stilled on the handle.
He took a couple of seconds to breathe, telling himself not to reach across the seat of the truck and beat the crap out of his brother, then he removed his hand from the door handle and once again faced Nate. “What did you say?”
Nate stared at him. “I’m just calling ’em as I see ’em.”
“And you’re seeing that I need to be better than Cord?”
“Don’t you?”
Jaden didn’t respond to the accusation, so Nate went on.
“You need to be the best,” he explained. “You always have. I see it kind of like little-man syndrome.”
“Are you fucking—”
“Hold up.” Nate held a hand up between them. “Hear me out. I’m serious. You’re the baby of the family, you’re the only one of us men who didn’t reach six feet.”
“I’m going to kick your ass.”
Nate made a face as if to indicate that was an absolute impossibility and went on. “And you basically didn’t see our mother the first two years of your life.” His tone softened as he continued. “Dani came home to help Dad with us, but Nick and I were twins. We had each other. Gabe and Cord were practically grown—and were gone within a couple of years—but you were the one who was alone. You were the one who had to wonder what you’d done wrong. You eventually picked up on what had been the issue with our mother, and now you’re intent on saving all the sad little boys in the world whose mothers didn’t love them, either.”
Jaden could only stare at his brother.
“And what all of that says to me is that you’re still holding on to something that hasn’t healed. You still need everyone to know you’re the best. That you’re not the little boy who had no voice and that no one wanted.” Nate shrugged. “Cord’s a doctor. Therefore, I assume you’ll earn your doctorate.” He glanced back up at the apartment. “And I think talking to someone wouldn’t hurt.”
Jaden didn’t move. Instead, he sat in utter bemusement. His brother had never strung this many words together in his life, yet when he did, he wanted to play counselor.
And he thought that Jaden should let Arsula play counselor, too.
Jaden took in the light still burning in the right half of the apartment. Had everyone around him gone crazy?
“How do you even know anything about her?” he finally made himself ask. He also purposefully ignored everything else Nate had said. “And why the sudden change of heart? Last I heard, you thought she was nuts.”
A car pulled up beside them, and Nate nodded toward it. “Yeah. But then I talked to Meg.”
Jaden stood in the street as his brother pulled away, trying not to glare at his ex. What in the hell had Nate and Meg been talking about? And why? Nate hadn’t answered those questions before driving off, insisting instead that Jaden get out of the truck. And now Megan sat cautiously watching him from the front seat of her car.
If his ankle wasn’t broken, he might go to her, open her door. As it was, he used his injury as an excuse, and he turned and walked into the building.
He should be thrilled. Clearly, she was here to talk. Finally. But instead, he found himself pissed. Because why had she been talking about anything with his brother when she couldn’t even bring herself to talk to him?
Half a minute later, the door to the building opened, and Jaden called out from the couch to let her know where he was. When Megan appeared, he said, “Close the door.”
He had to get his anger under control. This was the conversation he’d been waiting for.
Only, she looked as if she’d come prepared with the upper hand.
“How’s the ankle?” she finally said.
He held the cast out in front of him. “It’s healing. I can now knock chunks out of any wall I pass if I have the desire to.”
She gave him a half smile, but there was no humor to it. “I figured it was time we talked.”
“You figured, or did my sister make you?”
Or maybe it had been his brother’s idea to come there tonight. They had talked, after all. The thought burned hot inside him as Megan stepped farther into the room.
“Does it matter why? I’m here. I’m ready to talk.”
“Then let’s talk.” He motioned to the straight-backed chair now sitting at the fully completed desk. He’d called and asked Gabe to come over the day before, and Gabe had finished putting the desk together while Jaden and Jenna watched cartoons.
Megan didn’t immediately sit. Instead, she paced the small amount of free space, and she seemed to take in every detail as she did. When she finally stilled, she stopped on the other side of the bed and touched her fingertips to the mattress.
“So this is where you’ve been staying?” she began.
“It’s doing the job.”
“And Arsula?” She glanced at the ceiling above them. “She’s been taking good care of you?”
“I’m aware she’s the one you talked to about your dream,” he pointed out. He wanted to skip the pleasantries.
“She is.”
“And no matter what Nate might have indicated, nothing’s going on here.” At least, there hadn’t been before Sunday morning. Now he didn’t know what was going on.
Or what he wanted to go on.
“I never thought there was,” Meg countered.
“Are you sure about that?”
Her eyes danced over the bed in the middle of the room.
“Because I thought we walked away the night of the wedding on common ground,” Jaden went on. “But then you refused to speak to me. You didn’t even offer to help me out when I ended up in the hospital.”
Damn. He hadn’t meant to say that.
It seemed to get her attention, though.
She carefully lowered to the bed, and she jutted out her chin. “An am
bulance had to pick you up at the bottom of her stairs, Jaden. The morning after the wedding. While you were still in your tux.”
“Nothing—”
“Don’t even. I’m not an idiot.”
“But . . .”
He really wanted to tell her that nothing had been going on. That it had been as innocent as he’d like to believe himself. Because he didn’t want the idea of him and Arsula to hurt her.
But this was Meg. And though he might not have always been as talkative as she’d wanted, he’d never told her any untruths.
“We didn’t sleep together,” he started again. “We didn’t have sex. But there was sleep.”
She nodded at that. “Okay.”
Her seeming lack of concern confused him. “There was also kissing,” he added.
She nodded again, and as she had when the conversation first started, she glanced toward the ceiling.
“And the fact was, I was drunk off my ass,” he explained. “I know that’s no excuse, but that was the situation. She and I were hanging out, I was trying to prove myself a man, apparently, by drinking all the booze I could get my hands on, and the next thing I knew, we were standing in the freezing snow and I didn’t have on a coat. And then I kissed her.”
She brought her gaze back to his. “And then you came here.”
“And then we came here.”
She waited for him to continue, so he added, “And karma is a bitch, apparently.”
At her questioning expression, he stood from the couch. But since he couldn’t pace, he merely hung over his crutches.
“I couldn’t . . . perform, okay?” Humiliation heated his face, but he figured he deserved the punishment. “I don’t even remember it, but apparently, if you drink too much whiskey . . .”
The smile he’d once fallen in love with suddenly glowed back. “You couldn’t get it up?”
“Stop.”
“Well, that’s a first.”
He smirked at that, but they also shared a moment as they silently looked at each other. Because early on in their relationship, they’d gone at it like rabbits.
“So”—she spoke again—“you did intend to sleep with her?”
“Yes. But don’t blame Arsula. She’s not at fault for any of it.” Now it was his turn to look up. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that I’d personally poured half her drinks down her throat. I was a man on a mission that night, Meg. One of destruction. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I shouldn’t have come here.”
She nodded, but he wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or understanding.
“And I’m the one you should be mad at.”
She remained quiet for another moment before smoothing her hand over the comforter covering his bed. Then she gave him a tight smile. “I’m not actually mad about that. Not really, and not at either of you. You and I were broken up at that point. And yeah, maybe it had only been for a few hours, but in my head, it had already been a few weeks.”
The confession stung, even though she’d said as much that first night. “Then why have you refused to speak to me?”
“Because I was mortified, Jay. Don’t you get that? No one knew we’d broken up, yet here I come to the hospital, worried about what might have happened to you, and I’m faced with having to take your clothes from another woman.”
He cringed. “I am incredibly sorry that happened.” He probably hated that the most.
“Yeah. Me too. But the thing is,” she went on, “even standing there accepting the clothes, I’m not sure I could be mad at her if I wanted to. I like her, Jaden. She’s genuine. And sweet.”
“You like who? Arsula?”
She nodded, and as they stared at each other again, each struggling with their own thoughts, Jaden pushed the woman who lived above him from his mind and returned to the moment just before he’d stepped out of Nate’s truck. To the incredibly inappropriate thought that had crossed his mind.
“And how do you feel about Nate?” He had to ask, even if it didn’t matter at this point. “Do you like him, too?”
Confusion colored her features again. “What?”
“Nate said you two have been spending some time together.” He’d actually said “talking,” but Jaden had wondered if that hadn’t also meant “together.”
She picked at one of her fingernails. “We’ve talked a few times.”
“Right.” Jaden smirked. “At which point, you apparently offered your opinion that I should share my ‘troubles’ with Arsula.”
“I never said that.” Her head tilted as she studied him. “But now that you mention it . . .”
Now that he’d mentioned it, he wished he hadn’t. “Forget it. What else have you talked to Nate about?”
“Just . . . things.” Guilt suddenly crossed her face, and any other words Jaden might have uttered sat lodged in his throat.
Really?
With his own brother?
“Oh, good grief,” Megan said, clueing in to his silence. “I am not seeing your brother, Jay, if that’s what you’re thinking. Not that you’d have a say in the matter if I were.”
True, he wouldn’t. But he would have an excuse to kick Nate’s ass. “Then what are you doing?”
She glanced away now, staring through the glass panes, out to the desk where Arsula spent so much of her time, and when she turned back, all traces of guilt and hesitancy were gone. “I’m staying in Birch Bay,” she told him. “That’s what I’m doing. I’m going to take the job at the store. And I’m going to move the store to a better location. I’ve spoken to Nate about this idea—as well as to Dani—and they’re both on board.”
Jaden blinked at her announcement. “You’re going to move the store?” He hadn’t seen that coming.
“Yes.”
“Away from the orchard?”
“I want to find a location here in the downtown area. Where the majority of the businesses are. It’ll be better for sales, better for visibility.”
“And you had this idea . . . when?” Shouldn’t that be a decision the whole family was a part of? But then, when had he ever shown real interest in the business? In anything other than helping with the harvest?
But then . . . when had Nate?
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now,” Megan answered, and the hint of guilt that reappeared on her features altered Jaden’s train of thought.
She’d been thinking it for a while? Meaning . . . what?
And then he got it. He straightened on his crutches. She’d been thinking about moving the store for longer than two weeks. For longer than the two of them had been broken up. She’d been making plans for her life, both personally and career-wise, and she hadn’t included him in any of it.
Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been sharing things during their recent calls.
“So that’s it, then?” His chest began to ache as badly as his ankle once had. “You’ve made up your mind, and I get no say in the matter whatsoever? You’re out of the technology field, you’re going to run my family’s store, and you’ve been discussing all of this with everyone but me? Oh, and by the way . . . we’re done.”
“Come on, Jay. Don’t be like that.”
“Don’t be like that?” Using his crutches, he did finally try to pace. He didn’t get far, though. “Then what am I supposed to be like, Meg? Tell me, because I still don’t get it. I come home, offering you a ring, only to find out that you’ve already moved on without me. To find out—out of the blue—that we’re done. Just like that.”
“Out of the blue?” She rose to face him. “Are you kidding me? We’d been nitpicking at each other for months. We never talked.”
“Apparently.” He scowled down at her. “And I explained before that my issue was that I’d been busy. What’s your excuse?”
“My excuse is that you never talked. So why should I?”
Her accusation came at him like a slap in the face, and he took a step back. “What do you mean? I talked all the time. We
talked. We always have. Even before we started dating. Do you not remember what good friends we were before I ever asked you out?”
“Yes, we were friends. And yes, we talked. Intellectually.”
He didn’t understand her point. “We’re both smart people. How else would we talk?”
She groaned and gripped her fists in the air. “You can be so frustrating sometimes, Jaden. My point is that we rarely shared much emotionally. At least you didn’t.”
He almost laughed at that. “You’re wrong. I told you I loved you all the time.”
“Jay.” She began to pace. “There’s so much more to love than saying the words. Don’t you know that?”
“But I did love you. So why weren’t the words good enough?” As he waited for her answer, he realized he’d said did and not do. And he wondered if that was true.
“And I loved you,” she replied quietly. She stopped in front of him again, and she touched a hand to her chest. “But I need more than that. I need you to be able to share more with me. To let me hurt when you do.”
To hurt when he did? Was she out of her mind?
Why would he want to hurt someone he cared about?
“I had a counselor,” he reminded her. “For years. Her job was to listen to my issues. To hear my hurts.” He shook his head. His ex might be brilliant, but she was simply delusional on this one. “It would have helped nothing to come home and rehash the same things with you.”
“It would have helped us, Jay.” Her softly spoken words hinted at a hurt he never would have guessed at. “It would have bound us in the way we should both want to strive for. In a way that connects two people long term.” She tilted her face to the ceiling as a noise came from overhead. “But you guard your heart too well. You always have. And your heart,” she went on in a whisper, his eyes still focused above them, “is what I needed the most.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“Meg.” He spoke as softly as she had, and she brought her gaze back to his.
“Nate might be onto something.” She pointed to the ceiling, ignoring his silent plea to understand that he’d done his best. “I don’t want you to be alone forever, Jay. I really don’t. I want nothing but happiness for you. Talk to Arsula. Open up to her. She really is good at helping people do that.”