Truth About Love Duet: A beautiful small-town, angst filled, story of love (Legacy World Box Set Book 4)

by Mj Fields

  “Of course I do, Ava, of course.”

  “Well, get him undressed then.”

  If I thought he was squirmy in clothes, naked and in the water, he is a little animal. He doesn’t stop moving, or chatting, or laughing. Hope, though, she simply smiles and giggles, not nearly as chatty.

  “And she is the one who was the healthiest?” I ask, remembering a little of our conversation now that the fog has started to lift.

  “It’s not a competition,” she comments sadly.

  “Never said it was. And I promise you here and now, Ava, I never will.” I turn away from her and look at Chance. “Anyone messes with your sister, you’ll knock them down, won’t you, Chance?”

  Ava half-laughs. “He will not be a fighter.”

  “He won’t have to be; he was bred badass.”

  “Bred? What am I, a freaking cow?” Now she laughs for real.

  “No, Ava, you’re a mom.”

  She smiles genuinely, like it makes her proud.

  I never needed the metals, the promotions, or the pat on the back, but she does, and that’s fine with me.

  I look back at Chance and whisper, “You may have to rough a few up. Just don’t let your mom know.”

  “That’s not funny.” Ava forces a scowl.

  “She’s gonna need it.” I smile at Hope who is gnawing away on a washcloth.

  “Because she’s his?” she asks, blinking away pain and anger.

  “No, Ava, because she’s so much like you.”

  She grins for just a second, and then jokes, “I was never quiet.”

  “You were always a dreamer and a bit naive.”

  “Right, and look where that got me.”

  “Got you to be a lawyer.” I nudge her. “I’m sure you’re trying to save the world.”

  “Yeah, right,” she huffs.

  “Gotta tell you. Never in...” I pause, wanting to say the seven years I had you, but I don’t, “all the years I’ve known you, have I seen you so grounded”—and beautiful— “as the day you handed over your crown to Piper. That was a shock.”

  She shrugs as she holds her hand over Hope’s eyes, shielding them as she rinses her hair. “It was nothing.”

  “You’re right. That was nothing compared to seeing you with them,” I tell her, copying what she’s doing to Chance.

  Typical Ava, she jokes, “Yeah, watching me fall apart when they aren’t looking?”

  “No, Ava, I’ve watched that for years. You hid your hurt from everyone but me.” When I stop, she looks down. “Seeing your strength and the way you protect them, that’s goddamn beautiful, Ava Links.”

  She’s quiet, and I watch a million different emotions cross her face.

  “So then, you understand that—”

  “That you need me in your corner. You’ve got me.” Always have.

  “And you think that’s enough, Luke? That you being in my corner is going to stop everyone from talking about Ava the whore? Ava, the girl who—”

  “Not in front of the kids,” I interrupt her.

  “Fine, not in front of the kids. But what happens when everyone knows, and you aren’t around to intimidate them into not talking about me?”

  “Nothing we can do about how they came to be, Ava. Just feel blessed that they are. Both of them. Hope and Chance.”

  “So, you know, no matter what, someday they will learn about how they came to be, and—”

  “Know it? I lived it. My father’s parents are the reason I was so fucked up, Ava. They’re the reason I wanted to hate your old man when I knew damn well I didn’t. Everything that came out of my mouth to you that night, that fucking fucked up night, was because that’s what they wanted me to believe. And I did. For years, I did. Until Thanksgiving night when I heard our families talking about us. Then—”

  “Luke,” she says softly, “not in front of the kids.”

  “Sorry. I’m sorry.” I stand up and get the hell out of there as fast as I possibly can. I’m showing too much emotion, and she will see it as weakness. Hell, I see it as weakness.

  “It’s okay, Luke,” she says with sadness in her voice. “It’s going to be okay.”

  In the room, I distract myself by unwrapping the bandage. My knee is still swollen, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.

  I see my clothes on a chaise lounge in the corner and grab a clean pair of boxers and a pair of jeans, throwing them on, before pulling a sweatshirt out of the pile and putting that on, too.

  I hear water splash, and Ava laugh. Then the two kids laugh, too.

  I walk back over and peek in. She is playing peek-a-boo.

  “Ava?”

  She looks back at me.

  “Any idea where my phone is?”

  She scrunches up her face. “In a bag of rice...on the counter.”

  “So, it got cleaned?”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

  “No big deal. I have to go finish up a job—”

  “What job?” She laughs like I’m telling a joke.

  “I wasn’t really happy with the building’s security, so I let them know.”

  “And they just hired you?” She has an incredulous look on her face.

  “Yeah. Weird, right?”

  She arches an eyebrow. “Were you looking for a job?”

  “Hel—Heck no.”

  “Okay, well, when will you be back?”

  “When I’m finished,” I answer, turning around.

  “Oh, well, okay.”

  I turn back around because the tone in her voice is more old Ava than new Ava, and as much as I really fucking liked old Ava, I want her like she is...for the kids.

  “I set up the panel yesterday. Just have to change some locks, then get the second floor done. Maybe three hours.”

  “And the third?”

  “Third hour?”

  “Third floor,” she clarifies. “This one.”

  “Did that first...when you were asleep.”

  “Okay.”

  I start to turn around again then stop. “Plans for the day?”

  “They don’t really change. Well, today they did, but it’s usually breakfast, movies, they nap while I do some stuff around here, then lunch, movies, then nap again. They get up, and yesterday we took a walk—they seemed to like that—and then snack. Well, it will be now that they’ve had those star things you gave them. And then play, dinner, bath, and bed.”

  I nod. “Every day?”

  “Every day that they don’t have an appointment,” she answers.

  “How often does that happen?”

  “Need is dependent, but they have one next week. I changed it so Casey will be back for it.”

  “The driver?”

  She nods. “And my friend.”

  I nod again, thinking aloud, “You three don’t get out much.”

  “Germs.”

  “Right, germs.” I have been around a new mother or two in my lifetime, so I understand the fear of germs.

  “Want me to do dinner?”

  I can’t help letting myself smile a bit. “You have time, yes. You don’t, I got it.”

  “Luke?”

  “Yeah?”

  She pauses like she changed her mind on saying anything. Then she says, “Have a good day.”

  “You, too,” I tell her, and then look at Chance. “Have a good day. Take care of our girls, little man. Remember, we’re a team.”

  I don’t even look at Ava again. I don’t want to see what she’s going to show me. Is she pissed that I said our girls? Did I overstep? Fuck, it’s too late to worry about it now.

  I hit the elevator button, wishing it would hurry up.

  “Luke?”

  “Yeah?” I ask without turning around. I can’t. I’m not ready to face her rejection. I am strong, and I need to remain that way.

  “I’m sorry I washed your phone.”

  Damn, she’s being sweet.

  “No big deal, Ava.”

  “You want mine?”

/>   I turn around and finally look at her. “You need a phone.”

  “Well, so do you. I mean, what if you fall again and no one is there? What if you need”—she pauses and swallows hard—“something? Or if...” She stops and shakes her head.

  “Ava, I’m going to be downstairs. Right downstairs.”

  “Are you still parked on the street?”

  I nod.

  “You should use the lot in the back. We—I have three spots. Take one.”

  I nod. “Thanks, Ava. I’ll do that.”

  “Now?”

  I shrug. “Sure.”

  When I walk outside, I look up and see her standing at the window, two kids in her arms, looking down at me. I wave up, and she uses Chance’s then Hope’s hand to wave back down to me. It feels really fucking good.

  This might go smoother than I think.

  I pull around and park in the empty spot next to the Rover. When I get out, I look up again and see she is at the another window, giving me a thumbs up.

  I think for a moment about what it would be like to, not just win her trust in me back, but have her heart.

  Second chances are few and far between, but there is always a...chance.

  Chapter Fourteen

  You just don’t understand him like me. — C. Puckett

  Ava

  Relief washes over me. He’s away from the place of death. The relief is interrupted by Hope’s mouth on my chin and my phone ringing.

  I walk over to see Dad’s face on the screen and hit the accept request for FaceTime.

  “Hi, Dad,” I mumble as Hope continues using my jaw as her own personal pacifier.

  “Wow, you should feed her, Ava.” He smiles, but it’s not the same smile it used to be. It’s put on.

  I attempt a smile as Hope grips my hair harder. “Teething.”

  “You do know there’s all sorts of items in one of the lower cabinets for that, right?”

  I nod. “She prefers the chin.”

  “You look good, Ava.”

  “You, too,” I say, because he does. He always does. Also, what else can we talk about?

  “I’m thinking about coming in tomorrow.”

  “No,” I snap, which makes Hope startle. “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay,” I coo to her.

  “She wants to see me,” Dad says, trying to make it a joke.

  “She will...soon. You said I looked good, Daddy. I’m doing good. We’re doing good. Please let me do what I need to do.”

  His lips form a line. “You didn’t make any football games.” He’s using the brother card.

  “I’m sure Logan understands.”

  Dad runs his hand through his hair in frustration. “You’re both driving me nuts right now.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get it back.” I kiss Chance’s head. “Two fold.”

  “You’ll be home for Christmas.” It’s a demand, not a question.

  “I don’t know, Dad. I’d like them to spend their first Christmas here.” And the next twenty.

  “No,” Dad rejects that comment.

  “No?”

  “Ava, I draw the line at Christmas.”

  I give him back the same stern look he is giving me. “I’m an adult.”

  “No. Just...no.”

  Hope takes this time to start getting upset. Perfect timing.

  “She’s teething,” I mention again since he didn’t seem to get what I was saying before.

  As I hoped, realization dawns. “She’s getting a tooth? Ava, how could you not tell me that? That’s important stuff.”

  “It’s a tooth, Dad. Plus, it may take a month or more to come in. It’s just bothering her.” I laugh. “She’s going to get lots more. So is Chance.”

  “Ava, those are newsworthy events. I mean, seriously, all the other grand—people I know share that shit on social media.”

  “Well, I haven’t felt all that social.”

  He sighs in frustration. “Ava, you either come home for Christmas, or I’m going to be there every day until then.”

  “Lucas,” Tessa scolds in the background.

  I can’t help almost smirking when she comes to my rescue.

  “Dammit, Ava,” he snaps.

  “That’s enough, Lucas Links,” Tessa says, and his face distorts.

  “She’s enjoying this.” He points at the screen.

  At this point, I have to hide my face.

  “She’s laughing at my pain, baby. Laughing!”

  She turns the screen so I can see her face. “You need him, he’s there.” Then she mouths, “Please.”

  “Next weekend, okay? Next weekend, you can come.”

  “How come that Casey chick gets to be with them?” Dad asks in a childish manner.

  “She’s not here. She won’t be back for another five days,” I inform him.

  “Then you’re alone?” they both say at the same time.

  “No, I’m never alone.” I nod at my babies.

  “Ava...” Tessa sighs.

  “I need this time with them. I need them.”

  “And, Ash? Is she stopping by?” Dad asks.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “When I need her.”

  Dad rolls his eyes. “So, that’s a no.”

  “Look at me, Daddy. I’m getting stronger. I haven’t even hung up on you yet.”

  Tessa laughs. “She has a point.”

  “Fine. Next weekend, I’ll be there.”

  I smile. “Bring Logan.”

  “He’ll be done with school next week—only one more semester—so that’s a good idea.”

  “I need to feed these two. Love you, Dad. Love you, Tessa.”

  “Daddy,” he corrects.

  I smile nice and big for him. “I love you, Daddy.”

  He smiles, a genuine one now. “Love you, princess.”

  When the babies are down for their morning naps, I sit on the couch, uploading the pictures of my children into the file I store them in, separated by month. I don’t post them, not wanting to share them.

  I don’t want to share them.

  Thomas, what have we done?

  I sign-in online and look at Harper’s Facebook page. There are hundreds of pictures of her children, Piper and Reed. I am ashamed that I feel like I have to hide mine. They are perfect, angels, blessings, and I hate that I feel ashamed.

  “Ava?”

  I look up to see Luke with a cane gripped in his hand, coming toward me.

  “Did you fall again?” I ask, and then I am ashamed that I am making him hide what I know must be the light in the darkness he has been living in.

  “No, just sore.” He sits next to me and asks, “What’s wrong?”

  “How awful am I? I hide them like I’m ashamed because I made a mistake.” I push the laptop aside and fist my hair. “God, what a fucking mess.”

  “Not the end of the world.”

  “Why does it feel like it?”

  “Pride.”

  “Pride? I have no pride,” I groan.

  He chuckles. “You do, Ava. You’re just not feeling like you do.”

  “It’s not funny.”

  “We can laugh, or we can cry. I think you’ve cried enough.”

  I let his words settle in. I want to believe him, but I don’t.

  “How many fallen tears are enough before I prove the love that I lost is real?”

  “Real?” He runs his hand over his head. “Pain isn’t real.”

  “Pft, it certainly is.”

  “It’s allowed.”

  “Luke Lane, tell me your knee doesn’t hurt.”

  “Does when I allow it.”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head.

  “Wanna know the trick?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I huff.

  “Let it wreck you, decide how long you’re gonna allow it, then make it go away.”

  “What?” I half-laugh.

  “Five, four, three, two, one, and then it’s gone. You let it control you, then that’s all you’re gonna feel. Y
ou tell it to fuck off, you’ll feel better.”

  “Yeah, well, how did that work out for you?”

  “Sucked, but then I found a reason to tell it to fuck off.”

  I nod. “Chance.”

  He shakes his head. “You.”

  No, no, no, no. I can’t do this with him.

  “Luke, I can’t.”

  “He’s dead, Ava. Told you I’d switch places with him, but I can’t.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can just...” I pause, uncomfortable with this conversation. He and I will never be together. I know this. He just wants to get laid.

  “Wasn’t saying I changed because I want to fuck you, Ava. I said I turned it off because of you. You need me strong, and contrary to what this cane says”—he smirks—“I’m strong.”

  “So, you aren’t trying to...” I stop again, feeling awkward.

  He looks down and smirks. “Remember the day you announced your engagement?”

  “You already told me. I was his toy. It pissed me off then, so how about we drop it now?”

  “Didn’t tell you, but when I tore his ass apart outside, he told me that you said you’d never had it so good.” He pauses. “I’m not trying to fuck you, Ava. I want the little girl I disappointed, the one who knew I was supposed to take care of her, to realize she was fucking right.”

  I close my eyes and shake my head, thinking, Oh, T, why did you have to say that? And Luke, stop, just stop.

  “Not telling you to hate the man, Ava. It would be a waste of breath. I see how you loved him. But he was human and flawed. And apparently, better in bed than I was.”

  I turn away from him. “Luke?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t bring that up again.”

  “What, that he’s better than me in bed?” His tone is of a teasing nature, but I know it has to hurt.

  “It’s just that—”

  “I know, Ava. He was perfect.”

  I shake my head. “He was human, and he loved me. I never said he was perfect.”

  Learning more and more every day that he wasn’t.

  “He loved me, and there is no comparing him and you. As you said, you cared about a little girl, and he was in love with the grown up me. I can be upset and angry, or accepting. Love doesn’t come with strings. You love someone, you love them for all they are, faults and all.”