Finally, she parked and got out, stretching her arms. The clear, cool sky was stark against its russet surroundings. A bus stopped at the curb of the Visitor’s Center and a group spilled out. They wore more layers than she did and talked loudly about the impending sunset. She shoved her hands in her hoodie pockets and tried to weave through people, but they kept stopping to take pictures before they’d even made it to the canyon. She looped wide around the swarm. What she wouldn’t miss about traveling was the crowds, lines, limited parking. People on top of people at every attraction.
She stopped first at the busiest spot, a fenced overlook. She leaned on a railing, gazing into the mouth of the canyon, wide open and the color of a bruise. It gave her a thrill. She scanned the canyon walls, a rust-rainbow of beiges that morphed into earthy purples and pinks as the sun lowered.
A man asked her to move out of a picture he was taking of his wife. Lola left to find a more secluded spot, her tennis shoes crunching along the path. Only Mather Point, where she’d just stood, was enclosed. The rest was open, the canyon ready to swallow anyone who might misstep. She walked the rim, the crowd thinning, and spotted a cliff where she could be alone.
She climbed off the path, down between two boulders. A whitewashed rock jutted out into the canyon and came to a square point. The thought of standing on the edge made her heart skip, but she hadn’t come all this way to live life in the curtains. With slow, careful steps, she walked to the ledge. It was a straight drop down. Being so far up was physical, her stomach and legs prickling like being stabbed by hundreds of tiny pins. As a teenager, she’d get high trying to feel something akin to this. She shivered with a breeze, the hair on the back of her neck waking up.
“I’m ready for some answers,” she said out loud, her words expanding into nothing. She felt, inside, like the valley—deep, dangerous, beautiful. She had no idea how to be a mother. She didn’t take it lightly, that responsibility, and it scared her. She needed to know how one night could’ve led to all this. One night, she’d looked over her shoulder and found Beau. One night, they hadn’t used protection. “I don’t know if I can do this by myself.”
Nothing happened. The canyon was still. She wasn’t going to find answers here. They were inside her, but they’d only come with time. She closed her eyes to take a mental picture, the wind light in her hair. She told herself she wasn’t alone, that as much as it’d been forced on her, she’d also chosen this path. She wouldn’t have been happy in that life with Beau, never having healed that wound he’d left, always being second place to his money.
That was where she stood, alone but steeped in hard-won peace, when he spoke from behind her.
“So this is where it ends.”
Chapter 66
Lola opened her eyes abruptly, her peacefulness shattering. Beau was so unexpected that her heart doubled in size and speed, fat and swollen, clambering up into her throat like a live fish trying to escape. She knew that voice, that unforgiving tone, as surely as she knew what would happen if she were to take one step forward.
“Turn the fuck around,” Beau said.
The deeply-orange sun crested from behind a cloud, blinding her. She turned her head to the side, Beau in her peripheral vision. Closer than he should be. There was no one person she wanted to see least and most in that moment. She didn’t want to explain herself, but she needed him to understand.
“Look me in the eye,” he said. “You owe me that much.”
She couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was bad timing, being so close to the edge, vulnerable and unprepared for him. This wasn’t on her terms like it was supposed to be.
But with the gravelly chew of his shoes, she turned quickly. She shielded her eyes, his shadow black and nebulous, blinking away the sun’s neon imprint. “Wait,” she said.
He’d already stopped, his feet apart, almost aggressively so. It reminded her of the beginning, the way he’d stood that first night on the Sunset Strip sidewalk, intruding on her moment alone. Just like then, he was perfectly put together in his suit, his dress shirt tucked in, his navy tie straight. Only his pants were wrinkled across the front, as if he’d been sitting in them for a long time. The day’s last light illuminated his brown hair gold.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“What am I…?” He paused, running his hands up the sides of his nose. He inhaled a deep breath, made a fist, jammed a rigid finger into his chest. “You’re asking me why I’m here? I’m doing the same thing I did in L.A., Missouri, New Orleans. I’m goddamn looking for you.”
Lola wished for something to steady herself on—a gate, a fence, even a tall boulder. She checked over her shoulder—nothing but white-rock ledge. She pulled her shoulders up as she looked back at him. “I never asked you to do that.”
“You turned my life upside down.” He scrubbed his whiskered chin and shoved a hand in his hair, ruining it. It was too long and not as perfect as she’d thought. “More than once. Did you think I’d lie down and take that? You didn’t think I’d fight back?” He’d said fight angrily, with a hard “F” and clipped “T”.
Lola’s heart beat a mile a minute, the tips of her fingers and toes tingling. “I don’t want to fight with you, Beau,” she said calmly. “I don’t want to play. I just want the bullshit to end.”
“It’s over,” Beau said. “Believe me. This game ended a long time ago.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I think I’ll ask the fucking questions, thank you.” He took a step forward, and Lola instinctively moved back a little. “What happened to you that night?”
“I did what I had to do.” She leveled her eyes on him. “What you made me do. You really thought I could love you after what you did to me?”
“Don’t pretend you’re innocent here, Lola.” His nostrils flared. “Or do you go by Melody now?”
She kept her arms straight at her sides, caught off guard to hear her real name from his mouth. She hadn’t thought he would remember that detail from the VIP room. “Is that how you found me?”
“That and a lot of money.”
Her jaw tingled, saliva pooling in her mouth. She didn’t know what answer she’d expected or hoped for with him. “Of course. Money.”
“At first, yes,” he continued. “But it only got me so far. After that, I had to figure it out on my own.” He squinted, holding his arms out, nodding. “I’m a little late, but I made it. Not bad considering you left me with nothing to go on.”
His words were bitter like his tone. He grabbed the knot of his tie and loosened it, leaving it crooked. There wasn’t even a sliver of relief or happiness in his eyes.
Lola swallowed. “What are you going to do to me?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same thing.” He took another step.
“I can’t go through this again,” she pleaded, shaking her head hard. “I’ve made peace with the pain.”
“I haven’t.”
Lola glanced around without turning her head from him. There were only two exits from this situation—forward or backward.
“What was it all about?” he asked. “I want the truth, so help me God. Don’t bullshit me.”
Lola opened her mouth, but nothing came. How could she explain what it’d been like to finally give in to her love for him after fighting it so hard, only to have him break her big, happy heart in half? And then—to have to pretend to worship him for weeks as she nursed her wounds in private? That was bullshit.
“That night,” Lola started.
He jerked his head to the side. “Which one?
“In your hotel room, when we were planning how to leave Johnny. I’d never—it was the most—” Lola wiped her palms on the seat of her jeans. “You didn’t ask. You just took. All of it. All of me.”
“But you came back. You gave me another chance, and I did my best to make up for—”
“I loved you,” she said, the word dropping like an axe between them.
They stood there a mome
nt, two actors on an open stage, leaves rustling, voices distant, temperature dropping. A train horn echoed through the canyon.
“You don’t anymore?” he asked.
Lola looked down at the ground. What did it say about her that she still loved him after everything he’d put her through? Through all the lies, the spite, the games—her heart ached for him when he was right in front of her the same way it had when he was half a country away.
She looked up, keeping strength in her face, even though her body had begun to tremble. “My love hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s still in the garbage where you left it.”
“I knew I was making a mistake that night. Even while I was doing it. But I’d gotten in too deep to pull myself out. Was it not enough punishment that I had to live with that? Knowing I loved you, but I could never truly make up for how badly I’d hurt you?”
“Knowing is one thing. You deserved—deserve to live the depth of your mistake.”
“For how long?”
“That’s for you to decide.” She shrugged, limp and unconvincing. “It isn’t something your assistant can add to your calendar. My forgiveness doesn’t matter—you need your own.”
“Where do you get off telling me what I need? Patronizing me? You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
She shuffled back the last few inches, glancing behind her again. “Yes, I—”
“You don’t know. You didn’t care to,” Beau continued, another step. “And I still have nothing. I don’t know where you went from Cat Shoppe. How you got there. Why. If you laid beside me in my own bed, plotting against me.”
Her throat thickened. She didn’t respond. It didn’t look as though he expected her to. He was in front of her now, and she was cornered. She dug her heels into the sand. If she screamed, would anyone hear? Would it even matter? Nobody was close enough to get to her in time. All she’d done was even the score. But maybe Beau didn’t see it that way. Maybe to him, she had a debt that was too great to pay.
He reached up. “Even with all that—”
“Stop.” Her heart hammered. She squeezed her eyes shut. Everything on her body was rigid except for her arms, curved gently over her stomach. “I’m p—”
“I forgive you,” he said. “I forgive myself. And I surrender.”
Her body shook, her breath stuttering out of her mouth, wispy little butterflies. She balled a hand at her chin over her mouth, surprised to find it wet. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying.
When she opened her eyes, his arms were spread as if to say it was all he had. She couldn’t see anything but him and his hawk-like wingspan.
“I don’t know if that’s what you wanted, Lola, but you win.”
Her chest deflated, relief and regret seeping through her. Surrender, forgiveness, victory. What was even left to win? What kind of prize was this to have fought so hard for? She shook her head. “That’s not why I left.”
“Then why?” He dropped his arms at his sides, his expression earnest, his thick eyebrows heavy in a different way than they just had been. “To escape? Or to get me to see?”
She shifted on her feet. “To see what?”
“I was stupid for you. You and I went deeper than anything, and I fought back out of fear. But I’m done making that mistake. My weapons are at my feet.”
She waited, but he didn’t continue. He hadn’t moved back even an inch.
“That’s it?” she asked. “That’s your apology?”
“I’m sorry I hurt you. But I don’t regret it. We wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.”
“Here?” Her hands still trembled. She closed them into two fists. “This is a good place to you?”
“It’s where I should’ve been from the start. It was hell not knowing where you were. It opened my eyes, though, Lola. And like I said, now I finally see.”
Lola tried to shut the words out. She believed him—tormenting him with her absence was the purpose of her plan. But his surrender wasn’t, and it felt better than it should to hear he wasn’t finished with her yet. “We both set out to destroy each other,” she said. “How do I know that isn’t what you’re doing now?”
“Trust. Neither of us is good at it, but we each need it now. You know I love you—it’s not a question of that. It’s a question of if you’ll let me. I do…love you.”
She paused. It didn’t shock her, but as his words registered, she realized that no matter how strongly she knew it in her gut, she’d thought she’d never hear him tell her he loved her. And that she’d somehow be okay with that. “I know you do. I always knew. You were the one who didn’t.”
“I do now. I get it. Put an end to this, Lola. I’ve repented. I’ve suffered. For you.”
“How do I know? I wasn’t there. I didn’t see any of it.”
“You chose not to. At least I looked you in the eye when I hurt you.”
Her cheeks flushed. She wanted to be the only one who was justifiably angry, but he was right—and it embarrassed her. “So what? That makes it better?”
“There’s no ‘better’ in this situation. We learn from our mistakes and move forward. I’m here to bring you home. To get the light back in my life.”
The sun disappeared behind the rocky horizon. Lola had goose bumps everywhere and sweat along her hairline. These were things she thought she’d never hear. She jutted her palms between them. “Can you just step back? This is making me nervous.”
He took her by the arm, his hand warm through her jacket, and pulled her closer to him.
Lola shrugged him off. “Not just the cliff.”
He took some steps away without turning his back to her. In their relationship, she’d always been the one out on a ledge, expected to trust him blindly. To get into a stranger’s limo, to uproot her life based on two nights.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Lola said, off the overhang now. “A lot of time alone. I came here for answers because…you said you got them here.”
“Did you get them?”
She stuck a hand in her pocket, picked at some lint. “No.”
“I never said I got answers, Lola. I said I came here looking for them. I don’t like it here. It’s so fucking bottomless, it just makes me feel like I have no control at all. But what I did get here was perspective. And I’m glad those answers never came, because it taught me a valuable lesson. Only one person makes things happen in my life.”
“You.”
He nodded. “So that’s why I’m here. To do what it takes to fix this.”
She lifted her chin. “I got some answers, Beau, just not here. This is my life, and I decide. You don’t get to come here and tell me my trip is over and we’re back together.”
“I understand, but—”
“Don’t interrupt me. I’m not going to make the same mistakes I did with Johnny.”
Beau reeled back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not coming back to L.A. because you say it’s time. I’ll do it when I decide it’s right for me.”
He worked his jaw side to side a moment. “I’ve told you repeatedly, I’m not Johnny. Your happiness is my priority, and from now on, that’s what drives my decisions. I’m here to take you home because I believe it’s in your best interest.”
“Why is it always what you say?” she asked, her voice rising. “When do I get to decide?”
He showed her his palms. “We’re a team. You never have to be anything other than you when you’re with me. You said it yourself that first night—I didn’t choose you because I was looking for someone to roll over and take it.”
Beau had always wanted Lola as she was—as long as it was on his terms. She shook her head, still uncomfortably close to the ledge. “It’s not enough.”
There was struggle in his face, his eyes, when he said, “It was once.”
She nodded, remembering. “I want you to know—to me, you are enough...”
“I’m talking about all this.” She gestured around them. “You can’t just ask m
e to forgive you because you realize the mistakes you’ve made.”
Beau inclined his head a little, squinting at her. “So what’re you saying? This is just done?”
“Why’d you come here?”
“I couldn’t walk away without knowing I’d tried.”
“You tried, I’ll give you that. But this is where it ends,” she repeated his words back to him.
He shook his head. “I was talking about the torment, the pain, the games. All of that ends now.” He gestured between them. “Not this.”
Lola looked at Beau. He was trying, but she needed more. She needed all of him the way she’d been prepared to give him all of herself. He had to be exhausted by his love for her, because their child deserved that from both of them.
“This. Us,” Lola said. “This is where we end.”
“Don’t.” He shook his head. “You can’t tell me you drove all that time and never thought of me. Never wished to be back in my arms, to be loved by me. That you—”
“You have no idea—”
“That you don’t still love me—”
“Of course I do,” Lola cried. Late nights clutching her pillow, wishing it was him. Driving for hours trying to think of anything but him. It wasn’t fair that even when she hurt him, she hurt herself. She never got a break from the pain, and he had the nerve to come here and accuse her of otherwise. “You don’t think this has been torture for me too? I fucking loved you with everything. You could’ve burned every last dollar—I wouldn’t have cared. I loved the way you loved me, something nobody ever gave me. Fuck you,” she said, reluctant tears flooding her eyes, “for thinking you suffered more than me.”
“I broke your heart—fine. Mine broke every day I woke up and thought, ‘Today I’ll find her. Today I’ll bring her home.’ Now I have you—and you’re going to tell me no?”
Don't Break This Kiss (Top Shelf Romance Book 5) Page 57