My Unexpected Hope

by Tammy L. Gray

“That’d be great. Thanks.” He picked up the ax again, though she noticed now that he favored his right side when he did so.

  She rushed away before she did the unthinkable and reached out to touch the tender-looking area. Her cheeks flushed as vivid images of caressing Chad’s damp skin brought a fresh wave of guilt over her. She’d left Ben not even a half hour ago. They’d checked on the bathroom renovation progress in the cottage, caught a movie, and then ended the day with ice cream and a walk through the park. And yet, not once during their time together had she felt this all-consuming kind of spark.

  As she walked through the entryway into the kitchen, she heard Katie’s words again. Only she wouldn’t accept them.

  She wasn’t settling for Ben. She wasn’t.

  Okay, fine, physically, she found Chad much more attractive. Big deal. A long, healthy marriage wasn’t based on great sex alone. She knew that. The problem, though, was that the differences between Ben and Chad extended past the stomach flutters. She was more comfortable around Chad; they’d had a lot of good years together. And memories of those “good years” had been haunting her more and more during late, lonely nights. She found herself pulling out old pictures and dreaming of the future that had never come to pass.

  But . . . she still trusted Ben more. He wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t lie to her. And he wasn’t an addict.

  Frustrated by her double-mindedness, Laila grabbed the pitcher from the fridge, filled two glasses with ice, and poured the lemonade.

  A sudden rush of memories made her stomach turn over. She gripped the edge of the counter and hung her head. She and Chad had met over lemonade. He’d come to her stand, handed her a wrinkled dollar bill, and when their fingers accidentally touched, she’d blushed.

  No. She wouldn’t let him do this to her again!

  She swiped the glasses off the counter and stomped toward the front door. A person couldn’t possibly meet their soul mate at five years old. Maybe she’d believed that once, but now she knew better. That kind of youthful romanticism didn’t fit into the real world. She was an adult now; she had to make smart, mature choices. Betting her future on Chad’s ability to remain sober was neither smart nor mature.

  He was bagging up the abandoned branches by the time she returned outside. He’d also put a shirt on, to her relief. When he saw her approach, he dropped the bag and stared until her skin tingled.

  “Here,” she said, offering him the drink in her right hand.

  He stepped closer and took the glass, but never pulled his eyes from hers. He must have felt it too, the surge of memory, the zinging way their bodies were programmed to be together.

  She averted her gaze and took a calming sip from her own glass. “How long have you been out here?”

  “Since about one. I met Katie for lunch, but we had an argument, so I needed to chop something.”

  “What were you two fighting about?” She peeked back and he was still staring at her. Her free hand found the end of her braid.

  Chad turned up his glass and drank until it was empty. He seemed uncomfortable with her question, which made her want the information even more. Only she shouldn’t want it. She shouldn’t care anymore. One day he’d find someone else to confide in. Someone else to share his burdens with, and she would have to be okay with that.

  “Actually, never mind. It’s not my business.” She turned to leave, but felt his hand on her arm. It was hot, and masculine, and just firm enough to stop her.

  “It is your business.” He let go once she quit her retreat. “Can we go sit on the porch? This conversation might take a while.”

  “We’ve already talked about everything.” She didn’t want another arduous conversation. She didn’t want another apology or explanation. She just wanted her stupid new cottage done so she could stop feeling as if she were in a battle every time he came near her.

  “I never told you why I left like I did. And before you say it doesn’t matter and that you don’t care, let me just stop you. You need to hear this. And trust me, telling you is the last thing I want to do.”

  She pressed her lips together, annoyed that he’d practically read her mind.

  He started toward the front of the house, and she followed until they were seated side by side on the top step.

  Chad set his empty glass aside and studied his interlaced fingers. “I spent a lot of our marriage lying to you. Not because I ever enjoyed it, but because I was so afraid of losing you that I thought it was justified for the sake of preserving our relationship.”

  She fiddled with the condensation on her glass as her buried emotion and anger came percolating through.

  “I’m not going to lie to you anymore, Laila. And that may mean you hate the things I have to say, but at least you’ll know they’re the whole truth.” He turned his head and paused until she finally set down her glass and met his eyes. “The reason I left so abruptly is because I got involved with Slim.”

  “With Slim?” She choked on the name until the magnitude of Chad’s words slammed into her. Suddenly all the pieces began to unfold. “You were dealing?”

  He cast his gaze to the ground. “Yes.”

  “How could you? After everything we’d been through?” She’d felt a lot of things over the years when it came to Chad, but never a level of disgust as severe and paralyzing as this. She thought of Sierra’s mom, of her own mother, of the criminals who kept the addictions of people like them alive and active.

  “It started after I finished rehab the second time. You’d already threatened to leave again. I tried looking for a job, but no one would hire me with my drug history. Meanwhile, you were working yourself to death, and the medical bills from my overdose had gone into default. I was supposed to provide for you, and here you were, stuck because of my addiction. I felt powerless and desperate.”

  She didn’t want to hear more, but he kept talking, giving her details of the parties where he’d sold, the agreement he’d struck. Telling her how he was able to keep the creditors away and still feed his habit. And then came the details of the sting operation gone bad and how he’d just now had the money he needed to pay Slim off.

  When Chad confessed the last terrifying truth, her hands felt numb. “He could have killed you.”

  “Not for ten grand. Slim can make that up in a weekend.”

  “You say that as if it’s no big deal,” she gritted out, disgusted.

  “It is a big deal. I’m not dismissing what I did. I’m just assuring you that I’m not worth murder.”

  She wanted to argue, but here he sat, two years later, alive and well. “How long did you work for him?”

  “Six months. But he started recruiting me long before I finally said yes.” For the first time in years, he kept his focus on her. He didn’t look away. He didn’t try to change the subject. His expression looked expectant, as if ready to answer any question she had.

  Truthfully.

  Suddenly, she had a flood of words, a million demanding inquires, as if this new transparency would disappear at any moment.

  “Why wasn’t I enough?” She hadn’t thought before speaking, but keeping that question inside seemed as likely as trapping a hurricane. Tears pricked at her eyes and spilled over without hope of stopping them.

  Chad winced as if she’d struck him in the chest. He moved slowly and knelt before her, using the bottom step to balance on. His hand found hers, and he caressed the now-empty ring finger on her left hand. There wasn’t even a white band of skin there anymore. She hadn’t worn the ring since the day she signed the divorce papers.

  “My addiction was never about you, Laila. I couldn’t have loved you more.” His eyes filled with tears, which made hers come that much more rapidly. “The problem was, I couldn’t have hated myself more. I don’t know how to explain it, because there is no perfect formula. Some days, I’m happy and good, and then suddenly, I’m not. It’s always there, the temptation to escape and bury all the hurt, and somehow you convince yourself that it’s better tha
n the pain. Better than reality.” He squeezed her hand tighter. “I thought I could hold on to both. You and my illusions. But then I lost you, and nothing made sense after that.”

  She pulled her hand away and wiped at her face. “How bad did it get after you left?” She had to know the extent of his addiction.

  Chad eased away until he was back to the spot next to her. “The drug use stopped pretty quickly. I didn’t have the money or the supply anymore. Plus, I was still nervous about Slim tracking me down. But the drinking got worse.”

  “Did you . . .” She could barely speak the words. But she had to know. “The women. Were there a lot of them?”

  “Gosh, Laila, no.” Chad’s voice rose, half-angry, half-offended. “I’ve never touched anyone but you.” He shoved his ring in front of her. “This meant something to me. It will always mean something to me.” He turned away, his shoulders tense enough to break concrete. “Why? Have you and Ben?”

  “No.” She shook her head, bothered by her relief that Chad hadn’t strayed. “We both feel sex is meant for marriage.”

  No one ever knew that she and Chad had waited until their wedding night to take that final step. Even Katie thought they’d been sleeping together for years. It was easier to pretend than to justify why abstinence mattered so much to her. She’d seen a flood of men come in and out of her mom’s life. Had seen how they used her, claiming love, yet walked away the next day. Laila swore no man would ever treat her body with such disrespect.

  Chad exhaled like a burden had been shoved off his shoulders. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  She could barely process the information he’d already given her, let alone more. But this was her chance to have what she’d always craved, from her mom, from her marriage, from her best friend. And she wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

  Shifting, Laila found a comfortable position with her back against the wooden post. “Let’s start at the beginning.”

  CHAPTER 22

  The first two hours of Wednesday’s shift passed by in a blur of laughter, drinks, and clanking glasses. It was a game night, so Joe had brought in Charity to help with the seated customers while Eric stayed behind the bar, washing glasses and doing extra chores for all of them.

  Laila had been working nonstop since Saturday’s confession from Chad. They’d yelled, cried, and finally, after he’d promised there were no more secrets to tell, she’d stood, walked into the house, and slammed the door behind her. When she reemerged an hour later, his truck and all the yard debris were gone. She hadn’t heard from him since.

  Pushing thoughts of her ex out of her head, Laila focused on the night ahead of her. Ben would be stopping by, and she desperately needed him. She could feel herself getting restless and agitated with each passing day. He would calm her down, and remind her of why she had to move on.

  “Hey, Eric, next time you go to the back, tell Joe we need to order more orange juice.” She swished the last of the gallon jug around, then knelt down and placed it back in the mini fridge under the bar. “And find out if he plans to show his face tonight.” She smirked, knowing Eric would never address Joe in such a casual way. The man may be fatherly to her, but to everyone else, he was a shrewd business owner.

  Grabbing a new tray of dirty glasses, Eric leaned down. “Hey, your guy is here.” Her heart froze, as did her hand, now gripping the handle of the fridge. “I’m not gonna judge or anything, but last time he came, Joe was a bear all night. You sure you want me to tell him to come out?”

  She pressed her eyes closed. Ben. He was talking about Ben. Not Chad. “No. Just take the glasses.”

  When she’d found some measure of stability, Laila stood and turned to face the one person who could give her an escape from the madness in her head. Ben, who had already woven his way to the emptier side of the bar, leaned his elbows on the counter, and locked his warm hazel eyes on hers.

  “It’s not quite as crowded tonight,” he said, reaching for her hand as if he needed to touch her. She needed it too. They hadn’t seen each other since before Chad’s confession, and their telephone conversations had been kept to short, light rundowns of their days.

  “No, it’s not. You can actually move and see people.”

  Ben looked good. Still too dressy for the bar in dark jeans and a polo, but she knew he was trying to fit in, and his effort spoke volumes. Maybe they would make it out of this rocky time in one piece.

  “Come here.” He motioned for her to come around the bar, and she did, though her heart fluttered with each step. Ben pulled her into a tight hug, brushing his hand down her back. “I missed seeing you.”

  She squeezed him around the waist, pushing aside the last of the doubt from her head. “Long day?”

  His hand cupped her cheek. “Not too bad. Definitely better now.” He leaned in, surprising her with a kiss that couldn’t be labeled as a greeting. It was much more of the end-of-the-night kind, and definitely not one she wanted an audience for.

  Stepping back, she tried to hide her discomfort. “Do you want a drink?”

  “Sure.” Ben’s smile indicated that he didn’t notice her unease, and he pulled out the bar stool next to him and sat. “So, I decided I was being insecure and rash. If you’re still willing to go to the beach with me, we can leave Saturday morning around nine.”

  Saturday. The beach. Why did those words now bring panic?

  She stumbled on her way back around the bar. “Yeah. I just need to make sure Joe didn’t put me back on the schedule.”

  “Great.” Her stomach dipped when his smile broadened. “And you were right about the sea turtle center. I showed Caden online, and he’s beyond excited.” Ben slid his hand across the counter and captured hers, lacing their fingers together. “We both are.”

  Glancing at their joined fingers, Laila found a way to return his smile. Everyone in the bar was looking—no, gawking was more like it.

  Barney raised his hand from the center of the dining room, and for once she was relieved that Charity was too preoccupied to notice.

  Laila pulled away. “I have to get some orders.”

  “Okay. I’ll be here.”

  Confusion lined every step as she filled new glasses for Barney’s guests. She’d been Ben’s girlfriend for months, yet every eye in the place cast the same accusation she, herself, was starting to feel. Betrayal.

  Ben’s mere presence felt like cheating. How was that fair?

  Exiting the bar on the opposite side from where Ben sat, Laila pushed through the crowd to Barney’s table. He’d slid two square ones together, creating a rectangle that could easily seat eight, despite being only his standard group of four at the moment.

  “Expecting more people?” she asked casually as she set the four drinks down in front of him. Joe wouldn’t like Barney hogging the few seating areas, even with their long-standing friendship.

  The grin that cut the man’s face was so foreign, even the lines around his mouth seemed surprised. “Yep. We’re celebrating tonight. My boy’s come home.”

  “Your boy?” An icy, endless dread swept through her, wiping away everything but the man in front of her.

  “You didn’t know?” Barney seemed to enjoy every second of her panic, and that weird, joyous smile turned gloating. “Chad’s home. He officially starts work at the factory tomorrow.”

  Her chest tightened. And this was how they celebrated? By getting smashed the night before? “How many do you expect, then?” she asked through gritted teeth. She’d thought Barney was different. He’d been one of the few who’d tried to get Chad to slow down on the drinking. He’d even come to the house a few times to remind him how bad his dad had become. Those were the worst confrontations, but they usually worked.

  “’Bout ten. Chad says he’s off the liquor, so make sure we have some soda in the mix.”

  “That’s awfully considerate of you.” She didn’t even bother to hide her sarcasm. Like having a soda in front of him would automatically make the l
ure of alcohol go away. Barney was as delusional as his nephew.

  Laila finished retrieving the empty tray when she felt a hush flow through the room, then a mass of loud voices that pushed past her to the front door. She didn’t bother to look. Didn’t need to.

  Chad always knew how to make an entrance.

  The crowd was already by the door when Chad entered, a welcome he could likely thank his uncle for.

  They shook his hand, welcomed him home. A few pulled him in for an embrace, some of which lingered too long for his comfort.

  “Where have you been?”

  “It’s about time you came home.”

  “Have you seen Kevin yet? He’s still owes you that hunting trip you never took.”

  Chad reacted to every person, his face alive with feigned excitement as he answered each one of their questions. They expected him to be boisterous and funny. Expected him to bring an energy he had no handle on anymore. The drinking had always helped, especially on the bad days. The days when his insecurity was louder than any sound around him—failure, disgrace, coward.

  And now he’d face them all, sober.

  Chad swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d done it before. Several times, in fact. But never without Laila by his side, squeezing his hand, encouraging him to be real, and never after two years of silence.

  He’d also never gone this long without a drink either. And if he was truly going to fix things with Laila, he’d have to find a way to come to her workplace without falling apart. Besides, hadn’t Mark told him that part of recovery was learning to live in a world where alcohol was always present? That saying “no” was a choice he would have to make every day, not just when the temptation was greatest? Well, now was his chance to prove he could do it.

  It took several minutes before he saw Barney standing by a table, his arm waving erratically. Chad pushed through the crowd, his reasoning edging out the earlier doubt. His uncle hugged him tight, patting his back and shaking him proudly. The other guys did too. Guys who’d taken him fishing when he was ten and let him hang at the factory when he needed a break from his dad. They were as much his kin as Barney was, and a slow warmth began to build in his chest.