by Stella James
“I know what you’re going to say,” I mumble. “So just get on with it so I can go back to sleep.”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he sneers.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
I roll onto my back and rub the sleep from my eyes. I sit up slowly and hold my head in my hands.
“Are you even going to try and fix this shit, or what?”
“She’s the one that left man, what am I supposed to do about it? She wants space, so that’s what I’m giving her.”
“She left so you’d work through your shit, you dumb bastard, which you obviously aren’t doing,” he says.
I stand and walk into the kitchen. I grab a jug of orange juice and chug back half of it, “And how would you know about any of this? You been talking to Anna?” I sound like a jealous prick, but I don’t care. I am a jealous prick, especially if he has been talking to her.
“Oh fuck you,” he says. “I ran into her downtown and she looked upset. She asked me if I’d seen you and then she told me what happened.”
“Hm,” I grumble.
“Come on man, get over yourself,” he says. “You plan to sit here and wallow, fine,” he continues. “But Anna was right about you needing to fix your shit. Talk to Jay, talk to your dad, do whatever you have to.”
“You know that shit isn’t just a quick fix,” I remind him.
“You’re right,” he agrees. “But it’s been six years, it’s time to move on and obviously you haven’t.”
I have nothing left to say, probably because I know he’s right. I let my baggage affect what I had with Anna, and if I had worked through this shit sooner, none of this would be happening right now.
“I’m going to head out, you know I have your back, I always have,” he says. “But I don’t want to see you waste an opportunity to be happy just because you’re stubborn. Talk to Jay, maybe things haven’t been exactly easy for him either.”
When the door clicks shut behind him, I shake off my pity party and resolve to be someone that Anna deserves. At the very least I can try like hell.
*
I pull up to the offices of Kent Enterprises, realizing how the years can alter a memory of something as simple as a building. I used to think this place was a fortress, meant to cage me in and mold me into someone I didn’t want to be. But watching the people come and go, the building doesn’t quite look as medieval as I used to think. My father took over after his father as CEO of one of the city’s most eclectic companies. Kent’s have been collecting real estate, smaller companies and launching/investing in everything from software to shoe technology for as long as I can remember. This building is like a kingdom, made up of anything and everything that can make a dollar.
I give my name to the receptionist and make it through security. I take the elevator up to the twenty-second floor, assuming Jay’s office is still where it used to be. His assistant greets me and tells me to go right in.
When I open the massive double doors, my brother is sitting at his desk. He looks up and nods to one of the leather chairs sitting in front of him. The corporate life style always suited Jay more than it did me. It’s always looked good on him. We’ve grown into two very different men, but there was a time when we were kids that I looked up to him.
“Are you planning on throwing another right hook my way, or can we have a civilized drink and actually talk to each other?” he asks.
“I make no promises,” I shrug.
He stands and walks to the small bar in the corner of the room, pouring us each a glass tumbler of amber liquid. He passes one to me and sinks down into the chair beside mine. We sit in silence, sipping whiskey and embracing the Kent way of avoiding our feelings.
“I deserved it,” he says, eventually.
“Yeah, you did.”
“I’ve been calling,” he says. “Sometimes twice a day. I thought I’d wear you down eventually.”
“Apparently, I’m a stubborn bastard,” I laugh humorlessly.
“That you are, brother.”
“Are you happy?”
“Man, you really need to answer your fucking phone,” he says.
He tells me about the divorce and my nephew Darius whom I’ve never met. He explains that’s how he knew Anna, further making me feel like an asshole.
“I should have never fucked McKenna, let alone married her,” he says. “I wish I had some logical explanation for you, but I don’t. She was here, and she offered. I was too weak to say no, but I assure you I’m paying for it now.”
“I believe it,” I say. “What are you going to do?”
“Go for full custody,” he tells me. “She doesn’t give a shit about Darius, she never has. She uses him to mess with me.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry man,” I say.
“Karma, right?”
“I guess.”
“Don’t fuck things up with Anna because of her,” he says.
“I’m trying not to,” I admit. “But it’s possible I already have.”
“You’ll figure it out,” he says. “You always d-.”
The phone sitting on his desk interrupts us, he leans forward and picks up the receiver, his eyes troubled as he stands.
“I’ll be right there,” he says. “Thank you.”
“Something wrong in the corporate world?” I ask.
“It’s Dad,” he says. “He’s had a heart attack.”
*
The drive to the hospital is a blur. I vaguely hear Jay explaining to me that this is Barron’s third heart attack in the last two years. Something I would have already known, had I pulled my head out of my ass. Six years, wasted. And now my father, despite his flaws and mistakes, might not make it.
We pull up to the emergency room and Jay heads for the registration desk to find out whatever he can. A nurse directs us upstairs to intensive care. Visiting hours are technically over, but I should have known better than to underestimate my father’s reach. He’s donated millions to this particular hospital and apparently that grants a few perks. Jay stays behind to meet with the cardiovascular surgeon while I head down the white hallway, keeping my gaze from the clear windows that line the way where other patients lay, awaiting their fate. I find the room marked 4C.
When I step through the doorway, my eyes fall on the man resting in the bed. He’s greyer than I remember. He looks small surrounded by the beeping machines and tubes and wires. I remember when I was a kid, he seemed like a giant. When he entered the room wearing one of his crisp suits, his commanding voice echoing off the walls, you felt it.
The man lying in the bed looks worn out and tired. I foolishly carried my childhood belief into adulthood…that Barron Kent is bulletproof. How wrong I was, I think to myself.
I approach the bed and sit down in one of the plastic chairs off to the side. The smell of antiseptic fills my nose and I can’t help but think how much my father must despise this. Being immobile.
“Are you planning on saying anything, son?” he asks gruffly.
Any words that I can possibly think to say get lodged in my throat. Where would I even begin? Sorry for being a brat. Sorry I haven’t been there. Sorry I couldn’t forgive you for who you were. I swallow hard and grasp his hand with mine.
“I’m sorry Dad,” I say thickly. “I should have been here.”
“You are so much like your mother,” he says. “I made so many mistakes Sebastian. I had the world with you boys and your mother and I got greedy. Thought I could have it all.”
My eyes begin to burn as regret after regret sits heavily on my shoulders. I was young and foolish, and I let my bruised ego run the show.
“I never understood how you couldn’t want the same things that I did,” he says. “And I should have tried. I should have listened to your mother and let you boys find your own paths.”
“Dad, we don’t have to talk about this now.”
“I don’t have much time,” he tells me. “I know that. I’m sorry son, for not being there and for caring
too much about the shit that doesn’t even matter in the end.”
“I’m here Dad,” I rasp. “I’m here now.”
His eyelids close, the grip on my hand lessening. “Isabelle would be so proud of you both,” he whispers gruffly.
I swipe at the wayward drop as it rolls free just as a nurse walks into the room.
“We should let him get some rest,” she says gently. “You can come back later if you want or maybe tomorrow.”
I nod and stand from the chair, leaving the room as she checks his vitals. Once I’m in the safety of the hallway, away from the ICU, I pull my phone from my pocket. I swallow the lump in my throat as the phone rings, willing her to pick up. I’m about to give up when I glance up and see her standing at the end of the hallway.
Chapter 17
Anna
My legs move toward the man I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with. The space I needed between us did nothing but make me intolerably cranky, according to Dru. When only a couple feet separate us, I pause, not knowing where we stand, just knowing that I need to make sure he’s okay.
“Jay called me,” I explain. “I wanted to be here for you.”
He slides his phone into his pocket and extends his hand, taking mine and pulling me close to his chest. I inhale the scent of him which has become one of my greatest comforts and I let him hold me, as tightly as he needs to. I no longer want space from him, or from us. I want to be here with him, beside him, because it’s where I belong.
“Christ, I missed you,” he says against my hair.
I lean back and tilt my head so he can see me. “I missed you too,” I say.
His lips find mine and everything melts away. The doubt, the hesitation. Sebastian has my heart and I believe I have his. The bumps in our path will be dealt with, but in this moment, we simply need to hold each other.
“How is he?” I ask.
“Sleeping now,” he says. “I guess we just wait it out now.”
“How are you?”
“He was never perfect,” he says. “But I somehow thought he’d be around forever and that nothing could ever bring him down. I’m scared, Anna.”
I wrap my arms tightly around his waist as he holds me close. Letting him know without words that I’m here, and nothing will change that.
*
Sebastian’s father spent a total of four days in the hospital before he insisted on going home. His doctor agreed under the stipulation that he receive around the clock care, which is apparently as easy thing to arrange when you’re wealthy as he was heading home less than an hour after that very conversation.
I’d held back at the hospital, not wanting to overstep my boundaries, but we’re currently heading to Sebastian’s childhood home so that we can help out. I know things are awkward right now for him and Jay and for him and his father. But he said it was important that he be here and when he asked me to come with him, I didn’t hesitate.
As we leave the city, I begin to picture his childhood suburban home, but nothing comes even remotely close to the mansion we eventually pull up to. A large wrought iron gate greets us and opens automatically and as we make our way down the winding driveway I can sense Sebastian’s tension. I reach for his hand and give it a firm squeeze.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says. “It’s just been so long since I’ve been here.”
We park in front of the large white house and Sebastian grabs our bags from the backseat. As I step out of the truck I’m greeted with a familiar voice.
“Ms. Brookes! Ms. Brookes!”
I turn and see Darius running toward us from what I assume is the back yard, Jay close behind him.
“Hi Darius,” I say, pulling him in for a hug. “How’s your summer been?”
He chatters quickly about the swimming lessons he’s been taking and how for the next little while he’s going to be spending time here with his grandpa, because he’s sick.
“That’s why we’re here too,” I say, nodding back at Sebastian.
“Is he your husband?” Darius asks.
“Oh, uh, no he isn’t,” I say with a smile, looking to Jay for an introduction. But before he can say anything, Sebastian steps forward and kneels.
“Hey bud, I’m your uncle,” he says carefully. “My name is Sebastian.”
“I know about you,” Darius says. “My dad talks about you a lot. He says you’re an artist.”
I can see the regret on Sebastian’s face as he looks up at Jay and then back down at Darius.
“I make things,” he explains. “Out of clay. Maybe sometime I could teach you.”
“Cool!” Darius says before he runs up the steps and through the front door.
“I’m sorry about that,” Jay apologizes. “I should have warned you that he’d be here, I wasn’t trying to blindside you.”
“You talk about me to him?” Sebastian asks.
“Of course I do,” Jay says. “You’re my brother.”
“Jay, I’m sorry.”
“Hey, we’re starting over,” Jay says with a shrug before he too heads up the front steps.
I wrap my arm around Sebastian and lean into his side, “It’ll be okay,” I say. “Fresh start, right?”
“Right,” he sighs, pulling me close.
*
Still too weak to move around much, Sebastian’s father has spent most of the last several days in his bedroom. Sebastian and Jay have taken turns going up and spending time with him, but he mostly just sleeps on and off. Darius has been restless all morning, so I sent all three of them to the city zoo for the afternoon to get some fresh air. The homecare nurse is here if anything happens and I don’t mind staying behind and giving the boys some bonding time.
I’ve been spending most of my time exploring the house while amusing Darius and one of my favourite rooms is the massive library on the main floor. I’m currently running my fingertips along the leather spines on one of the immaculately kept shelves when I spot Moby Dick. It looks like a first edition. I gently take it off the shelf and I can tell that even though it must be worth a lot of money, it’s been read several times. I take it with me and make my way up the grand staircase toward Barron’s room. I know the nurse is taking her break now and he’s probably resting, but I feel like I should check in on him and make sure he’s okay. I know Sebastian and Jay would appreciate it.
I approach the large double doors and slowly open them, trying my best not to disturb him. Padding through the room quietly, I sit down in the recliner beside the bed. There’s a steady beeping from one of the monitors, but otherwise the room is quiet.
I open the book in my lap and when I’m nearly done the first page a gruff voice asks me, “You plan to read that to me or what?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I say, standing.
“You’re not disturbing me. Sit down,” he wheezes. “You’re Sebastian’s girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m Anna,” I say.
“Come over here so I can get a look at you,” he instructs.
I lean forward and smile. “Hello,” I say.
“You’re pretty,” he says.
“Thank you.”
“You love him?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation.
“Hm. I was a terrible father,” he tells me. “And now it’s too late to fix it.”
I place my hand on his. “Both of your sons are here for you Barron, because they want to be. You’re not alone,” I say. “Can I get you anything? Should I get the nurse?”
“I’m fine,” he says. “No need to make a fuss.”
“You have a beautiful library,” I say, eventually.
“It was my wife’s,” he replies. “I bought her every first edition of every classic that I could find, and do you know what her favourite book was?”
“Which one was her favourite?” I ask.
“Some book about a single woman who spends her time drinking and smoking…Bridget something,�
� he says.
“Bridget Jones?” I ask with a smile.
“I don’t know how many times she’d lay in bed and read that damn thing, laughing until she had tears in her eyes,” he says. And then adding, “I miss her laugh.”
“And this one?” I ask, holding up the copy of Moby Dick so he can see it.
“Ah, that one would be my favourite,” he says.
“Would you like me to read it to you?”
“I think that would make me very happy,” he says.
“It would make me happy as well.”
*
Barron Maxwell Kent III passed away peacefully two days later, in the company of his two sons. The funeral was small, not quite what the city was expecting for a born and bred royal, so to speak, but it was what he wanted. He was laid to rest beside Sebastian’s mother.
It’s been three weeks since the funeral. Sebastian has been helping Jay sort out the remainder of their father’s affairs, he’s even spent some more time getting to know Darius. I know he still harbours guilt over the last several years, but he and Jay are working at repairing a relationship and I couldn’t be prouder of him. It’s easy to see the differences between the two men, but there are similarities as well. There’s a foundation there and they are lucky to still have each other.
I continue to browse the tables of fresh fruit as I stroll through the market. Sebastian is with Jay at his office, going over some paperwork and I feel like making something special tonight. I place a dozen ripe peaches into a bag and pay the vendor, casually making my way back home. As I walk by the park, my eyes scan the people coming and going, mostly out of habit. I still haven’t seen Jack, and anyone who has tried to help me find him has come up empty. I’m about to turn down the sidewalk when I spot a man sitting on Jack’s usual bench. He’s got short salt and pepper hair and he’s clean shaven, but I know it’s him. I smile as I approach the bench and take the seat beside him.
“How are you doing, Jack?”
“I’m just fine Miss B, and yourself?”
I can’t help but laugh as I feel the prickle of tears in my eyes. “Where have you been?”