Folder number two.
“The other half of my stocks, I cashed in and opened up a checking account to pay for my medical bills.”
Folder number three.
“I’ve already made and paid for my final arrangements.”
Folder number four.
“Here’s all the info on the checking and savings accounts.”
Folder number five.
“This is an insurance policy. There’s enough money to pay off the mortgage, both cars, and tuition for culinary school.”
“Culinary school?”
“I’ve listed you as the sole beneficiary on everything.”
My brain was in information overload. “I don’t understand.”
His dark eyes watered. “I don’t have anybody, Bryson.” He paused trying to keep his emotions in check. “My lawyer has drawn up all the necessary documents, like do not resuscitate. But as I get sicker, I may not be capable of making decisions.” Will choked back a sob. “I know I deserve to be alone but I don’t want to be when I die. It’s asking a lot and god knows you don’t owe me shit. But please, would you consider staying with me until . . .?”
I stared at Will completely dumbfounded by his request. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say yes to any of it. Nothing will change as far as my will. You’ll still get everything.”
My brain began to function again and all the information that had been thrown at me began to make sense. “This is why you didn’t sign the divorce papers.”
“No one can challenge you on any of this if we’re still legally married.”
“And by no one you mean your parents.”
He simply nodded.
I couldn’t believe what he’d done. Even when things were good between me and Will, he was never that thoughtful. I was floored by his generosity and that not only was he providing for me but protecting me as well. All he wanted was what anyone would want, comfort and connection with someone who cared. I wasn’t sure what the details of this arrangement would be but my answer was clear.
I placed my hand on top of his. “You won’t be alone, Will.”
His body visibly relaxed.
“How exactly do we do this?”
His hand flipped over so that our palms were touching. “I was hoping I could move back home.”
Jerking my hand from his, I slid off the stool and headed toward the sink. “I don’t think that’ll work out.”
“Bryson, I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry for the . . . um . . . thing with the hand. It’s just I haven’t had a compassionate touch in a long time. I accept that we’re over.”
I turned to face him. “As far as you moving back in here, I have to think about it and talk to . . .”
“The guy?”
“Hart.” I corrected his generic term.
“Hart . . . so y’all are that serious?”
“Yes, I told you earlier.”
“I guess it didn’t sink in. I don’t want to cause any trouble between the two of you.”
“I need to talk to him before I can agree to let you come back here.”
Will’s hand curled into a fist on the countertop. “Fair enough. I understand.”
I had no intention of letting Will die alone but having him back under the same roof was essentially like being back together. Hart was my priority and I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize us. I promised Will I’d call within the next two days, once I’d had time to digest everything. I needed to feel Hart’s presence and touch, but I was physically and emotionally depleted. My head needed some room to clear in order to process everything and decide how to tell Hart.
Once Will left I changed into my black leggings and Hart’s long-sleeve gray T-shirt that I wore the first night I stayed at his place. He caught me eyeing it one morning and when I got home, I found it in my overnight bag. I curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine, grabbed my phone, and pressed his number. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hey.” His raspy voice sent a shiver through my body.
“Hey.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“You standing me up?”
“I need your strong arms wrapped around me.”
“That can be arranged. You okay?”
“Yes.” I choked back a sob.
“Why are you crying?” When I didn’t answer, he continued. “I’m going to see if Colin and Doug can meet me at your place.”
“I’m fine . . . really. I’m just exhausted. Can I take a raincheck on dinner and your lap?” I managed a slight chuckle.
“I’ll hold you to it. You wanna talk about today?”
Tears trickled down my cheeks. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow it is. Go get some rest.”
“Don’t leave me. I need to hear your voice.”
“Okay.”
“I love you so much, Hart.”
“You’re making me a little nervous and I don’t get nervous.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“I can be by your side in a flash. Even if the guys can’t get me up those steps, I figure out a way.”
“You are the most important thing in my life.”
“Ditto.”
I tugged the fleece blanket from the back of the sofa and snuggled underneath it. “Tell me about your day.”
“It was a very exciting day.”
I adored how Hart and I read each other, being patient and taking cues as to what the other needed at the time. He wanted answers and deserved them but trusted me enough to wait until I could tell him everything. I closed my eyes and pictured him by my side.
His soothing rasp washed over me. “Mrs. Swenson . . .”
“The lady who always flirts with you?”
“Yes, the ninety-eight-year-old lady who always flirts with me. She tried to set me up with her daughter.”
“Is she hot?”
“She’s sixty-five.” He paused while I laughed. “Although, she is pretty hot.”
“Hart!”
I fell asleep to the sound of Hart’s voice swirling in my ear and calming each frayed nerve.
The next thing I knew the sun was beaming through the double French doors warming my face. Sitting up, I shook the sleep from my head and walked to the kitchen for my morning brew. Waiting for the Keurig to finish I stared out the window, piecing together the events of yesterday. It was almost unbelievable to me that for the second time in a little more than two years my life drastically changed in just a matter of hours. This was another defining moment. Just as my marriage ending and reconnecting with Hart pushed me toward being the person I always wanted to be, when I walked out of my house today, it was time to show everyone the person I’d become.
With my fingers curled around the handle of the storm door, I stared straight ahead. My body jerked at the sound of the red front door opening. The second he saw me, Hart’s eyes lit up and his dimples popped with a sexy grin.
Between the eyes, the dimples, the grin, the worn jeans, and the way his long-sleeve black T-shirt stretched across his well-defined chest, Hart took my breath away. Everything I ever wanted and needed was right in front of me. And I was scared to death that in a matter of minutes I was going to lose it all for the second time in my life.
“Hey, Lovely.”
“Hey.” I sighed.
“Why didn’t you use your key?”
My gaze dropped as I prepared to lie to Hart for the first time. “I forgot it at home. I need to put it on my keychain.”
The truth was, in addition to stalling, I took a spec of comfort in the dimly lit porch that hid my misty eyes and crinkled brow.
He held up a stuffed trash bag. “Good thing I was taking the trash out and found you.”
“I would have knocked eventually.” A faint humorless laugh escaped me.
Sucking on his bottom lip, his gaze traveled the length of my body. “Are you going to come in or do I need to come out?�
��
I wanted to answer none of the above. The minute I went in or he came out meant I had to tell him about Will, putting me one step closer to possibly hearing Hart say goodbye. My trembling hand tightened around the bag of crab cakes with remoulade sauce I’d brought from work for our dinner. I’d come straight from Good Eats so I still had on my work clothes underneath the black-and-gray checkered wool coat.
“Get your sweet little ass in this house. You’re shivering.”
No matter how hard I willed them to move, my black Keds wouldn’t budge.
Will had texted me a few times today checking to see if I’d talked with Hart yet. I understood his anxiousness. Will didn’t have a lot of time to waste waiting. He’d gotten all the legalities done. Now he just wanted the comfort of knowing he’d be well taken care of by someone who knew him and not a bunch of strangers. And here I was stalling.
“God dammit, Bryson, if you don’t get inside right now, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and drag you in. Don’t let the chair fool you.” Dropping the trash bag, he thrusted his chair forward.
Loosening my grip around the brushed metal handle, my hand shot up to stop him. Hart blocked the storm door before it swung back and hit me.
“Alright! I’m coming.” I stepped inside and reached for the bag of trash beside the door. “I’ll take this out.”
He clamped his fingers around my wrist and tugged. “Fuck the trash.”
Holding my gaze, Hart cupped both of his hands around my icy one. Bringing it to his lips, he blew warming breath over my hand until the iciness melted. His eyes never left mine as he led me to the sofa. Sliding the purse from my shoulder and taking the bag of food, he placed both on the coffee table. He leaned forward, unbuttoned my coat, and slipped it over my shoulders. Next came my chef’s jacket, leaving me in the black pants and long-sleeve white Henley. He placed my jackets on the sofa and snatched the soft blanket draped over the back.
Glancing down, indicating his lap, he said, “Sit.”
Without protest, I crawled into his lap and nuzzled my cold nose in the crook of his neck. Hart wrapped the warm blanket and his arms securely around my body. We moved over to the fireplace where Butter was cozied up in her bed asleep, never acknowledging our presence. Hart’s hand moved up and down my shoulder at a steady rhythm as the flames danced in front of us. I’ve never been able to explain this unspoken language Hart and I have. With just one look he always knew what I needed even if he didn’t know why I needed it.
Placing a soft kiss on my forehead, he whispered, “I missed you last night.”
I snuggled closer into his chest. “You have no idea how much I missed you. I’m sorry, yesterday was just draining in every way.”
“I’m all ears when you’re ready to talk.”
We stayed like this for a long time. Hart had been so patient and understanding. I couldn’t keep him in the dark any longer. Now was the time to tell him everything that happened and what Will was asking of me.
I raised my head and looked into his concerned eyes. My gaze drifted down to his mouth. Needing one last kiss before all hell broke loose, I leaned in and pressed my lips firmly against his. His mouth opened automatically, giving me unobstructed access. Hart’s fingertips came up to my face, brushing my hair back. I intensified the kiss, going as deep as he would allow. A low moan vibrated from Hart just before he pulled away.
Gasping for air, he said, “Talk to me. What went on yesterday?”
I ran my teeth over my numb bottom lip, trying to get the feeling back. As he attempted to steady his breathing, Hart’s gaze stayed glued to my mouth. Shaking his head, he tore his eyes from the distraction.
Hart’s face twisted into annoyance. “Bryson, I’m a patient man but . . .”
When I finally delivered the news, I employed the ripping off the Band-Aid approach by blurting out the words without forethought. “Will has AIDS.”
I waited for the information to sink in before adding to it. Hart’s body went rigid as his eyes hardened. The grinding of teeth caused a twitch to develop in his chiseled jaw. His downward glance revealed strained neck muscles with one very large throbbing vein. The only time I’d seen Hart angry was the night of Ronnie’s bachelor party when Doug kept hitting on me. But this was different. It was quiet, controlled, and scary as hell. Fury radiated from every pore of his body.
“Are you okay?” The words barely made it through his clenched teeth. His tone was low and menacing.
“Yes. I tested negative and the doctor said there was zero chance you were exposed.”
Being in the healthcare field, Hart was up-to-date on the protocol and risk factors of bodily fluid transmitted diseases.
Hart’s gaze shifted to something over my shoulder. “How long has the motherfucker known?”
My number one goal was to get the information out as quickly as I could in order to calm Hart down before he exploded.
“In January Will thought he just had the flu. Instead of going to the doctor he decided to ride it out, thinking he’d get better. But he never got back to a hundred percent. Over time he began losing weight, got a persistent cough, and had stomach issues. He blamed it on stress or thought maybe he’d picked up another bug. When it didn’t improve or go away he got worried. Then he noticed a dark purple spot on his chest. By the time he got an appointment with the doctor another spot showed up on his neck. It was July by the time he got the diagnosis.”
Hart’s glare turned on me. “It’s the end of October and he’s known since fucking July? What if you’d been infected?”
“But I’m not.”
“But what if you had been?!” The force of his roar caused my head to slightly tilt back. “This lowlife motherfucker was already showing symptoms. And he let you walk around for three goddam months unaware while he licked his fucking wounds.”
Raking both hands over his face and through his hair, Hart laced his fingers together, resting them on top of his head. The biceps in each arm vibrated with rage.
“Will didn’t excuse his actions except to say when he got the diagnosis he flipped out. And it took him some time to get his head back on straight.”
“When did he start fucking around on you?”
“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you were never in danger and I’m not infected. We’re going to be okay.” No longer able to hold back, I let the tears trickle down my eyes. “Please tell me we’re going to be okay.”
“When. Did. He. Start. Fucking. Around. On. You?” The words seeped through his teeth.
“Toward the end of the marriage. After he recovered from his breakdown, he realized we’d been together one time after he’d been with someone else.” I paused for several minutes and waited.
“So he stuck his dick in you knowing full well it had already been in some rancid whore.” A tight sneer appeared across his face as he let his arms drop to the side. “Get up.”
I hesitated, not wanting to lose our physical connection. But I knew he needed time to process everything. I owed him that time. Reluctantly, I lifted myself off of Hart’s lap, hugging my body with the blanket. Making one sharp pivot, he headed down the hallway without saying another word or giving me a second glance. The resounding slam of the bedroom door sent a photo crashing to the ground and Butter seeking refuge in the corner behind a chair.
I was frozen in place. A thousand different scenarios played out in my head before I came over here. But nothing compared to the murderous look in Hart’s eyes that I just witnessed.
Patience had never been one of my virtues but I desperately needed to practice it in this situation. Hart wanted to know yesterday what was going on and he waited until I was ready. I had to do the same for him. I unglued my feet from the spot I’d been standing in and walked over to the sofa. As I sat down, Butter poked her head around the back of the chair. Seeing that the coast was clear, she slinked over and hopped up beside me. Laying my hand on her head, I mindlessly stroked her yellow fur and waited.
I didn’t move as Hart rolled toward me.
“I’m so sorry.” I choked back a sob. “I never meant to drag you into all of this. I love you more than I ever thought possible . . .”
Although there was still a lot of anger brewing in his eyes, they had softened a little. Hart rolled in my direction until he was only two feet away.
“Sit down.”
I turned away and started back toward the sofa. Hart grabbed my wrist, tugging me toward him.
“Not in there. Right here,” he said, glancing down at his lap.
“I’ll understand if you never want to see me again. All I want is for you to be happy and if that means walking away, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.”
He gave my arm another tug. “Bryson, sit down.”
Timidly, I lowered myself onto his lap.
When we were face to face, I whispered, “Hart, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t ever leave me.”
A rush of air and sobs left my body. “I meant what I said, if this is too much, just say the word. I love you too much to put you through this.”
Cupping the sides of my face, Hart brushed his thumbs over my cheeks wiping away every last tear.
He brought our foreheads together and said, “Lovely, I’m here. Period.”
I threw my arms around his neck and glued myself to his chest as my body convulsed with sobs. Hart’s arms encircled my waist and held tight, pressing me into his body.
“Did you really think this would end us?” He whispered into my hair.
“It’s hard enough dealing with a soon-to-be ex-husband. I didn’t think you’d want the additional headache of him being sick.”
“You’re worth all the headaches in the world to me.”
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