by Mary Calmes
“Fine. I won’t. Just concede this once. Let me get you a room and let me come see you.”
“Is this the kind of place that rents rooms by the hour?”
Theo and Marvin shook their heads.
“Okay,” I sighed, giving in, “but you just make the reservation. I’ll pay for it.”
“No, I’ll pay for it, just go there after you have your Korean food.”
“I will. You call Chastain.”
“I will,” he grumbled. “You better do what you say.”
“I’m not the one having trouble with that,” I replied.
“Touché,” he agreed.
THE FOOD at BCD Tofu House was amazing. We didn’t have to wait and it was a casual place, and they even took the heads off the shrimp for me because looking at their beady little eyes always freaked me out a little. I tried to never meet a creature’s stare as I ate it.
The drive back to Santa Monica was nice, too, and we rolled down all the windows and enjoyed ourselves. When I checked into the Hotel Casa Del Mar, I got why it was better that Ash paid for it than me. It would have taken out my food budget for a month. I had a one-bedroom suite with an ocean view, and when I opened the windows, I could smell the salty sea air.
It was a good hotel for me. I loved the details out of another era, a mix of Mediterranean and California Mission styles, as the lovely woman at the front desk had explained during check-in. There were, I was told, other hotels on the beach that faced the Santa Monica pier, but I was more than happy where I’d landed.
I hugged both Theo and Marvin when they left, and since I sprang for lunch, when I tried to give them both money for driving me all around LA, neither wanted a tip. Apparently hanging out with me for half a day had been a minivacation for them.
After dropping my stuff in the room, I went downstairs so I could sit outside on the hotel terrace facing the beach. In the late afternoon air, sunshine beating down on me after I flopped onto a bench, I stretched out and soaked up the heat. It was a relief to unwind, to inhale deep and release slow. My sunglasses on, baking but the breeze keeping me from overheating, I decided I wasn’t moving for a long while.
When my phone buzzed, I answered without checking to see who it was and thought, at that moment, that individual ringtones would be a good idea.
“Hello?”
“Where the hell are you?” Mitch groused.
“Hi, honey,” I said with a cackle, giddy now as I was full of food, hydrated, and listening to the waves break. I was also ready for a nap. “How are you?”
“You did not just ‘hi honey’ me!” Mitch yelled, clearly annoyed.
I chuckled. He was incredulous and pissed off, both of which made his voice low and husky. “Oh, you sound good,” I blurted out, because he so did.
I heard him catch his breath. “Do I?”
Shit. “Yeah,” I admitted, wishing I could just tell him to forget about me—us—and not wishing it, at the same time. He jumbled me up inside and that was the truth. The urge to simply forgive him and get on with my life of loving him warred with the part of my brain that clearly, concisely, recalled the pain of him casting me aside. I wanted to give in as much as I wanted to run.
“Don’t sound so happy about it.”
“Nothing about any of this is making me happy.”
“That’s a lie. You were happy the night we had dinner. You loved spending time with me and the boys, and the way you kissed me told me that you’ve still got it just as bad as me.”
“Yeah, but just because I want something doesn’t mean it’s good for me.”
“God, I wish you could see inside my heart so you’d know I could never, ever hurt you like that again.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I want you so fuckin’ bad,” he moaned like he was in pain. “Jesus Christ, Hage. I will never leave you.”
But he’d said that before and then done that exact thing… did I have stupid written on my forehead? There was living and learning to be considered here.
“Hage?”
“Us again is not smart.”
“And why is that?”
I ignored his question and plowed on. “I was talkin’ to Jess before I left and remembering the phone call when you broke up with me.”
“Fuck,” he growled. “So what you’re telling me is, you started second-guessing me all over again.”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Don’t—I just need you to—fuck. Where the hell are you?”
“Why?”
“Why is your question?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You promised to see me when I got home. We have a date.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“I asked, you accepted. That’s a date.”
“I think I agreed that we could see each other, but it certainly wasn’t a date,” I corrected him, enjoying, as always, bantering with him. He was the only man I’d ever met who would go a thousand rounds with me. We could say just yes, no, yes, no for hours. Had, in fact, done it once for forty-five minutes before my mother screamed at us to shut the hell up.
“You’re arguing just to argue,” he protested, irritated with me but, I knew, more at himself. He’d made a mistake a long time ago and now he was paying for it. “But I don’t want to because this isn’t us going back and forth knowing we can because we’re together. This is my whole life, Hage.”
“You’re right,” I conceded. “I’ll stop.”
He was quiet.
“What? Did I stun you into silence?”
“I think it was you agreeing with me. Did it burn coming out of your mouth?”
“You’re a funny man. I think you have a future in stand-up comedy.”
“I think my future, whatever that is… is with you.”
“That’s a good line.”
“It’s not a line, it’s the truth.”
I grunted.
“Baby?”
“Don’t call me baby. I’m not your baby,” I grumbled even though I knew it was crap. He’d been using the nickname since I was fourteen; it wasn’t going away anytime soon, and really, I didn’t want it to. Something about his voice when he said it conveyed warmth and possessiveness and longing that completely undid me.
He scoffed, but it wasn’t a harsh sound, more a rumble meant to placate me.
“Jesus, since when do you always say the right thing?”
“Since I grew up, Hage, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m not the little boy I was. I’m a man now and I know what and who I want for my life.”
“I fuckin’ hate you,” I muttered, my eyes filling because my heart was breaking wide open.
“Yes, I know.”
“But not… not really.”
“I know that too, and I can’t tell you how grateful and thankful and everything else I am over that fact.”
“You know?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Don’t—”
“C’mon, Hage. I know your smile and the way your eyes get soft when you’re looking at me and only me, and the little gulps of air you take when you’re excited and happy at the same time, and how you bite your bottom lip and tug on your hair.”
“No, no, no,” I argued, shaking my head as though he was there to see me.
“You may not think you remember all the little things about me, but I remember every smile and how you laugh and—”
“I remember you too,” I whispered, unable to give the words my full voice. I yearned to trust him, but if I did, I surrendered my power, my autonomy, and I had promised myself that I would never put myself in that positon a second time. Never allow him to hurt me again.
“Yeah?”
“You were the person I grew up with, Mitch. I met you when I was fourteen. You were a constant in my life. We were inseparable.”
“I know.”
“You were my first everything.”
“And you were mine.”
I tried to swal
low the lump in my throat.
“Do you think for one second that I loved you any less than you loved me?”
“You left,” I said, which was the crux of everything.
“I did. And I’m a million times sorry, but I was an eighteen-year-old kid, Hage. The fuck did I know about anything besides taking it for granted that you’d always be there when I decided to finally come home?”
“Yeah, but I can’t be your second choice, the one you got stuck with because Benson just so happens to be a great place to raise kids.”
“You know that’s crap because I already told you why I came home.”
“But how am I supposed to trust that?”
“Because you do already, don’t you.”
I had to think.
“Hage?”
I did know. He came home for his kids, for the town, and for me.
“The picture of my family that I have in my head includes you standing right beside me.”
“But it didn’t before.”
“Yes, it did. It always did. I just got diverted, and then life stepped in, but that never meant I wasn’t coming home.”
“And if I was gone when you did? Married? Then what?”
“Then I’d find you, hunt you down, break up your marriage, or kidnap you.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“The answer’s no more stupid than the question.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that everything you did and everything I did brought us right here to this place so we can finally deal with our shit, ask forgiveness, and accept forgiveness for the past. We have to go from here, forward and together.”
I was quiet for a moment. “That was deep,” I teased, still shaky but seeing the humor in our situation as well. I didn’t want to think too hard, let myself get overwhelmed, fall under his spell, or most of all… give in. Being funny would keep things light, and that would give me a little more time to think and decide and maybe even gamble with my heart one more time.
“Fuck. You.”
I snorted out a laugh.
“I’m being serious!”
“Oh yes, I know,” I said, patronizing him. “What if I had died in combat?”
“The hell, Hagen! Why would you even say that?”
I had no idea.
“Everything happens for a reason. I think I was supposed to be a dad. I’m really fuckin’ good at it. And I think you’re supposed to be my husband and help me raise my kids and be a positive role model for them.”
“I don’t—”
“You’re home for me, Hage, you always have been.”
The words hurt and comforted me at the same time, ripping me apart and stitching me back together just as fast.
“You have to forgive me. You have to have faith that I won’t ever leave you again and trust that I’ll be a rock-solid presence in your life.”
“I—”
“You can count on me, I swear to God.”
After seeing him with his kids, hearing the laughter and sarcasm and the dad tone, realizing that I could slip so easily into being his partner in crime, it was agony to still be on the fence. But I was sitting between the devil and the deep blue sea, neither option simple.
I wanted to submit to him so badly, so completely, to simply let down my guard and have faith again. To be the guy who had not only loved, but had done it without reservation or restraint. To be fearless again was something I craved, to have no fear of flying because I would know in my heart that he’d be there to catch me.
“Please, baby.”
It was time to take a chance and leap without a net. I simply couldn’t hold myself from him for even one more second.
“Hagen?”
Sitting there, outside the hotel, vulnerable, defenses down, alone, unsettled, off-balance and just missing him… I could actually feel the cracks in my walls.
“Talk to me.”
It was a choice and I would make it, to reach for him again, because I wanted him so desperately. His actions—moving home, moving his business, and most of all, sharing his sons with me—he was showing me my value and what I truly meant to him, clear as day.
“Hey.”
I didn’t answer.
“Talk to me. Tell me what the bottom line no-shit determining factor is?”
It was one of my father’s favorite lines, that question, asked of me so many times over my lifetime, meaning what was the final word on the subject. And now, Mitch was asking for the truth about me and him. What was the truth, what was real, and what could I not live without?
“Hage?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied. Of course I knew what it was.
“Stop fuckin’ around and tell me.”
It was infuriating that he knew me so well; inside and out, that he could call me on my crap like no one else.
“Tell me the truth now. It’s important.”
“We should wait and talk when I get—”
“No. You’ve had enough time.”
“Then maybe we should just forget—”
“We’re not doing that either,” he growled. “If you lie right now I will just keep seeing you, keep talking to you, keep wearing you down, keep bringing my kids by every single day until you finally have no choice but to give in. I’m not going away and I’m not giving up, not when I’m this close to everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“And what about what I want?”
“You want me, Hage!” he snapped. “It’s always been me and now you wanna help me parent my boys as well, and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie about that because I’ve seen you with them and I know better!”
God.
Only Mitch walked into a room, took one look at my face, and read me like a book. It was his superpower. He knew me. Really knew me, completely. And it was the same for me since, after all this time, there was still only Mitch. I had always loved him, never stopped, even after he dumped me, even after the years apart, even after I tried to move on by playing around with other guys, even after thinking I might be able to have something with Ash. Even with all of that, nothing would have worked. I didn’t fit with anyone else because deep down where it counted, there was only Mitch and there could never be anyone else. I fell too hard in the beginning. It turned out I was done at fourteen when he walked into homeroom and saw me in the back next to the window. He hadn’t waited for the teacher to tell him where to sit. He’d come right to me, taken the seat beside me, turned, and offered his hand.
“I’m Mitch Thayer. Who’re you?”
“Hagen Wylie,” I answered softly, smiling at him.
He held my hand and grinned back. “We’re gonna be friends, I can tell.”
And we were, and more, and that had never changed.
“Fuckin’ Mitch,” I grumbled, finally able to get even the simple words out.
He chuckled, and it was both wicked and warm.
“I thought it was over.”
“Nope.”
“It felt over.”
“Not for me. Not ever.”
He was being brutally honest, which gave me the strength not to lie. “Okay, so I hoped.”
“You hoped?”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“Oh, love, you just made my whole year.”
“I-I told everybody I didn’t care.”
“I know you did, but it wasn’t true and no one believed you anyway.”
“I can’t— I won’t live through it a second time,” I confessed as I pushed up my sunglasses, wiping at my eyes, grinding the heel of my hand into the left.
“You never have to worry,” he vowed, taking a breath. “Only an act of God keeps me from your side.”
“You don’t even know how much I… if I give in and trust you, you can’t—”
“I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. Please baby, have faith,” he pleaded, voice cracking.
But it was so hard. It was like a steep muddy slope, after that fi
rst treacherous step, the rest of the climb could be a slow, steady trek or lost footing and death. Without any more hope, I’d be done.
“I want the words. Gimme the goddamn words,” he rasped before catching his breath. I had never heard such desperation from him, not ever.
“You always push.”
“Yes.”
“You can’t just—”
“I can and I will because you’re my one shot at the forever thing and we both know it. It has to be you, Hage. It was always you.”
It was hard to be brave, but there were times when there was no other choice.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” he asked, pouncing on me.
Christ.
“Hage?”
“Okay, I’m in.”
He was quiet.
“Mitch?”
“I heard you.”
“And?”
“And I want to see you right now.”
“Okay, then, I’ll come home.”
“Where are you?” he asked again.
“In Los Angeles.”
“No, I know you’re in LA. Jessie told me. But where precisely?”
“She did?”
“Of course she did.”
“Why did I tell her where I was going?” I asked myself and not him.
“Because you wanted me to know where you were.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I assured him, lost over my own actions.
“You felt guilty for going.”
“I did not,” I said automatically, defending myself even though I was lying to him.
“The hell you didn’t,” he argued, implacable. “You knew we had a date, you knew you were running out on me, you felt guilty, so you told her.”
“That doesn’t sound like me at all,” I quipped, annoyed at myself.
“Well, it is you, and again, you did it because somewhere between us having dinner, you spending time with my kids and Jess, and kissing me like I had no idea you could—Jesus, Hage, somebody upped their game—you—”
“My game?”
“I mean, all the boys you kissed between me and me again are fuckin’ lucky as hell!” he announced. “If you kiss everyone like you kissed me, no wonder you’ve been topping all this time. Because who could say no to that?”