Hold You Close

by Melanie Harlow

  “It’s okay, sweetie.” I reach for her. “Come here.”

  “Don’t go!” she bursts out. “Please don’t leave us!”

  My throat closes up and I’m on the verge of breaking down too, but I tell myself to be strong for her. “Oh, honey. I’m not leaving you. I’ll always be in your life.”

  “But we need you here,” she wails.

  “You’ll have your Uncle Ian here,” I say gently. “Your mom and dad wanted you to live with him.”

  “I know, but—but—how can he just let you go? He loves you, I know he does!” She continues to sob on my shoulder as I rub her back and realize that even when your heart is already in a million pieces, it can shatter again.

  “Well, it’s hard to say.” I give up fighting against tears, and weep along with her. “Your uncle and I have a lot of history, and our feelings for each other are complicated because of it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Of course you don’t. You’re not old enough yet.”

  “Please, Aunt London.” Morgan sniffs and pulls back from me. “Don’t treat me like a baby. I’m a woman now.”

  It almost makes me laugh, but I’m careful to hide my smile. “Okay. Well, once upon a time, when I was about your age, I developed this huge crush on my best friend’s older brother.”

  “Uncle Ian?”

  I nod. “Yes. Have you ever had a crush on someone?”

  “Not really. My best friend Sarah has an older brother, but he’s disgusting.”

  I give in to a smile. “Give it time. You might see him differently someday. Anyway, for years I had this crush on Ian, but whenever he looked at me, he just saw his little sister’s friend. And then one day . . .” I close my eyes, and a shiver sweeps over my skin. “He saw more.”

  “What happened?”

  I open my eyes and look at her. She’s too young to hear the whole truth, but she deserves to know why things between Ian and I were so fraught with tension. “He took me to the senior prom. We spent some time alone together, and we said something to one another that made me believe I could be what he wanted. I was ready to change my entire life for him—I was even going to turn down my scholarship to Northwestern University.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  “No. Because later that very day, I realized that I hadn’t meant anything to him. He hadn’t meant what he said to me. He wasn’t a bad person,” I said quickly, not wanting her to think ill of the man she had to trust to take care of her, “but to me it was clear that he didn’t feel the way I did. I was heartbroken.”

  “So you left?”

  “Yes.” Tears spill from my eyes, the wound opening up. “I’m sorry, honey. This is ancient history, and it’s silly to cry over now.”

  “I don’t think it’s so ancient. I think you still love him.”

  “Even if I do, it doesn’t matter. He told me to take the job in New Jersey. You heard that, right?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you should! He can’t make you!” A flash of anger cuts through her sadness.

  “No, he can’t, but if he doesn’t feel about me the way I feel about him, then I need to go. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but if I stay here, I’ll never get over him. I’ll never be happy.” I wipe tears from beneath my eyes.

  She nods sadly before throwing her arms around me. “I love you, Aunt London. I want you to be happy.”

  We hold each other, both of us sniffling, and we don’t let go until we here a door close downstairs. Morgan’s nose and eyes are red and I imagine mine are the same. I don’t want Ian to see me like this.

  Unbelievably, Morgan seems to understand. “I’ll go down first if you want to use the bathroom.”

  “Thank you.” I squeeze her hand. “You’re so like your mom. Oh, there is something you can do for me.”

  “What?”

  “Take care of my cat for a couple weeks? Until I can bring him out there?”

  “Of course. I’ll move him in here with us so he’s not lonely.”

  “That’s perfect. Ask your uncle first, though. Okay?”

  She smiles and heads out of her room.

  In the bathroom, I blow my nose and splash some cold water on my face. When I’m presentable, I hold my head high and go downstairs.

  As I get to the front hallway, Ian is standing there. His eyes widen. “Oh, hey.”

  “Hi,” I say quickly. This is beyond awkward.

  “I didn’t know you were here.”

  And I wish he never knew, but here we are, face to face.

  I clear my throat. “Morgan asked me to stop over, and we just had a long talk. I figure since I’m here, I should talk to Chris and Ruby about me leaving for New Jersey.”

  Ian rubs the back of his neck. “Right. Well . . . do you think that’s a good idea? They’ve had a lot of upheaval, I don’t want to add to it. No need to stress them out about something they have a while to get used to.”

  If only that were true.

  And does he really expect me to just pack my shit and go? To not even talk to Christopher and Ruby? I’m not an asshole like him. I want what’s best for those kids. Being mean, saying awful shit, and making them feel unloved isn’t my style. “I think it’s necessary to do now. It’s happening and I think preparing them would be the better idea.”

  Ian nods. “Fine, but can it wait a few days or weeks? You can tell them once it’s closer.”

  “No, Ian, it can’t. My flight is tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow morning?” he shouts. “Well, you didn’t waste any time getting the hell out of here.”

  I’m not going to explain myself to him. He’s the one that said I didn’t matter. He doesn’t get to act wounded now.

  “Yes. Seven AM.”

  He huffs. “So fuck me and the kids, huh? Just like that? No time, no warning?”

  “Excuse me?” Does he not recall telling me to go?

  “I guess we’ll just have to figure out schedules and everything in a day since you couldn’t even give us a little courtesy.” Ian’s voice is filled with anger.

  “Well, my company wanted me out there fast, so this is what I had to do.” I cross my arms over my chest, needing to shield myself from the coming fight. “I didn’t think you’d give a shit based on how our last talk went.”

  He throws his hands up in the air. “We’ve been doing this co-parenting thing for months, but I guess once you got what you wanted, you just take off without looking back. Nice. Real nice for the kids you claim you love so much.”

  Unreal. He is absolutely unreal. As if any of this is my choice.

  “What I wanted?” I snort. “You think I want this? You selfish prick! This isn’t easy for me!” I step closer, remembering all three kids are home and they don’t need to overhear us. “I love you. I love you so much I would’ve given everything up for you, but you . . . you didn’t want me. So, yeah, I’m leaving tomorrow because I can’t handle being here. I can’t look at your back door and not burst into tears.”

  “Spare me the dramatics.”

  “You are such a fucking asshole! I don’t know how I thought you were ever the Ian of two days ago. You should’ve gone into acting because you really sold the show.”

  He laughs. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

  “What was the airport then? Huh? Or what about the boating? Or when you made me feel loved? What about all the time we just spent on the couch, cuddled up, being together? Was it all just some cosmic joke for you? Some way to get back at me for something?” I fire off questions at him in rapid speed.

  I hate how he can manage to make it seem as though I’m the crazy one. I didn’t do a complete one-eighty here. He did. I’m the same person I’ve always been. Our relationship was supposed to be different this time, but as soon as he heard something he didn’t like, Ian went right back to the man I always knew.

  “No, Lon, the joke is all on me.”

  “I guess I’m just the punch line?”

&
nbsp; Ian takes a step back. I see something in his eyes, but it’s gone before I can think more on it. “It’s none of my business what you do anymore. I’ll get a nanny or something.”

  And there I have my answers. Nothing I said matters. He’s made his feelings perfectly clear. I’m nothing to him other than a babysitter. He’s worried about his precious club and job, not the pain he just put me through—again.

  I waited my entire life to feel the way I did when I was with him. I never married or had anyone serious because no one could measure up to Ian. Then, I finally have this chance with him. He forces my defenses to lower, gives me hope, and ends up destroying me.

  Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

  Loving Ian was never really a choice, though. He’s always been the guy for me. I just wish my heart knew he was the wrong one.

  “I should talk to the kids now so I can get back and finish packing,” I say to him, hoping he’ll say something to stop me.

  “Yeah, I guess you should. You and I are over, might as well make it known.”

  Ian delivers the final blow to my heart, leaving it decimated.

  Twenty-One

  Ian

  I finally get Ruby to bed. She didn’t take London’s big news all that well. In fact, she hasn’t cried this hard since she moved in with me. She kept asking over and over, “Why can’t Aunt London live here? Why does she have to leave?”

  Because life is full of fucked-up moments where it takes every opportunity to kick you in the nuts and watch you fall to the floor.

  Because she deserves more, kid. That’s why. She deserves everything I can’t give her. Her dreams were always bigger than me and I’m the fucking idiot who thought maybe I could be a part of them.

  “Uncle Ian?” Chris knocks on my door.

  “Yeah?” I reply tersely.

  I’m really not in the mood for parenting right now. I’m trying to keep my emotions under control, but I’m on the edge. I’m angry at the world, but these kids shouldn’t have to see me fall apart.

  He hesitates, but then steps in. “I have something for you,” he says with a hint of shame in his voice. “I should’ve given it to you when I found it, but . . .”

  “What is it?”

  “A note.”

  My chest tightens because from the look on his face, I know it’s from my sister.

  “Bring it here,” I tell him.

  Chris walks closer, extends his hand, and gives me the envelope. When I look at the handwriting, my heart instantly sinks. My sister always wrote with these obnoxious swirls and shit. It looks like the same envelopes the lawyer handed out after reading the will. Somehow this one hadn’t made it into the file with the others.

  “I found it in a box we kept of Mom’s. It was in a packet and . . . I didn’t read it,” he says quickly. “I just couldn’t give it to you because I wasn’t sure if I should.”

  “It’s okay, dude. I’m pretty sure your mother wanted me to read this at my lowest point.” I manage a laugh.

  Sabrina couldn’t have planned this any better. My nephew held this until now? Why? Because my sister is up in heaven, pulling her strings like always.

  I swear, one day she’ll stop meddling in my life. Although, I kind of hope she never does.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “No.” I’m not going to lie to him.

  “Aunt London?”

  Smart kid. “Yeah.”

  “I figured,” he shrugs. “She couldn’t stop crying when she told us. I wanted to ask her to stay, but I think she wants this job.”

  God, it’s like he’s inside my head. “Sometimes, Christopher, you have to let go of what you want more than anything because it’s the right thing to do.”

  He nods as though he’s got a clue what I’m saying. “So you gave her up because you love her?”

  Okay, maybe he does know what I’m saying. “I don’t love her.” So much for the no lying. “No, I do love her, but that doesn’t mean I’m good for her.”

  I love her more than anything, I’m just not going to be the reason she gives things up. I want to be the one that brings things to her life.

  “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said,” Chris stands up and looks at me with disgust.

  “Umm . . . wanna try that again?”

  “You love her. She loves you. She’s crying nonstop and you’re in here pouting. I think you’re scared.”

  “I think you should shut your mouth.” I get to my feet.

  “Fine. If that’s what you want.” He shakes his head. “Maybe you’re right, Uncle Ian . . . you don’t deserve her.”

  With that, he walks away and slams the door behind him.

  I can’t even go after him, because he’s right.

  Tossing the letter aside, I lie back again and fling one arm across my eyes. I can’t face hearing my sister’s voice right now. It will only make me feel worse, if that’s even possible.

  I’ve never felt so fucking alone.

  An hour later, I’m still lying there when I hear another knock on the door. “Yeah?”

  “Can we come in?” It’s Christopher voice again.

  “We?”

  “Morgan and me.”

  I frown. Great—just what I need, those two know-it-all’s coming in here to tell me I’m a coward or complain about London or bitch at me about how I’m doing everything wrong. “Go away.”

  “No.” Morgan opens the door and strides in, stopping at the foot of the bed. She sticks her hands on her hips. “We want to talk to you.”

  Christopher follows her in and stands by her side, arms folded over his chest, feet planted wide.

  I sit up, scowling at them. “About what?”

  Brother and sister exchange a glance. “Chris and I have been talking about you and Aunt London,” says Morgan.

  “That’s none of your business,” I snap.

  “We’ve been comparing notes,” she goes on, completely disregarding what I said.

  “Yeah.” Christopher nods. “And we have some questions.”

  “This is ridiculous.” I get off the bed and stand as tall as I can. “I don’t answer to you. You’re not the boss of me.”

  “Maybe we should be.” Morgan’s eyes narrow, and it’s clear she’ll take no shit from me tonight. “Chris told me what you did. You broke things off so she’d take that job. You gave her up because you love her, just like you did after the prom.”

  My heart thuds painfully in my chest. My face burns with outrage. “She told you about that?”

  “Yes!” she snaps. “And I told Christopher, and we realized what you’d done—you broke her heart so she’d go away to school. And you’re doing the same stupid thing all over again.”

  “You don’t know anything about it.” I glare at them both. “You’re too young to understand.”

  “No, we’re not,” Christopher says. “We understand perfectly. You think you’re doing the right thing, you think you’re fixing it, but you aren’t.”

  “Yes, I am!” I shouldn’t raise my voice to them like this, but I can’t help it. I feel myself coming apart at the seams. “She was going to turn down that scholarship to Northwestern if I hadn’t done what I did! And she’d have passed on this promotion!”

  “But that’s her choice, isn’t it?” Morgan challenges. “Why should you get to make it for her?”

  “Because she—” I struggle to answer the question. Run a hand through my messed-up hair. “She’d hate me for this eventually. I know she would.”

  “How do you know?” My niece throws her hands in the air. “You’ve never told her the truth about what you did back then! She doesn’t know you love her now! You’ve never given her a chance to choose you.”

  “I tried to tell her the truth back then, after she came home,” I inform them. “She wouldn’t even talk to me.”

  “She was hurt,” Morgan says, putting a hand over her heart. “You crushed her. But you don’t have to do it again.”
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br />   “I know Aunt London pretty well,” Christopher puts in. “And I think, more than anything, she’d hate that you’re making this decision for her. You should at least tell her the truth and let her decide.”

  I bury my face in my hands and rub my tired eyes. My head has started to pound. When will this fucking day be over? And why is doing the right thing so damn exhausting?

  Next thing I know, a hand is rubbing my back. “Stop being so stubborn, Uncle Ian,” Morgan says softly. “You love her. Tell her that. Fight for her this time.”

  I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “I’ll think about it. Go to bed now.”

  They head out, but a second later, Morgan’s head pops into the doorway again. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Eli Walsh is moving in.”

  “Who the hell is Eli Walsh?”

  She rolls her eyes at me, looking so much like my sister it’s eerie. “Aunt London’s cat. Jeez, get a clue already.”

  Then she’s gone. I turn off the light, undress, and crawl beneath the covers.

  All night I fight with myself about going to her house, begging her to stay, to forgive me. I lie there in agony, going over everything I said to her, everything Morgan and Chris said to me.

  You love her. Tell her that. Fight for her this time.

  At some point I can’t take it anymore, and I march to the back door, ready to grovel, but I see her through my windows and stop.

  She’s standing on her deck in the moonlight, so beautiful I can hardly breathe. Her long brown hair is up in a ponytail, and she’s wearing only a white T-shirt, her long legs bare beneath it. She’s looking at my house. I know she can’t possibly see me, but it feels like she can. I watch her watching me, then I see her wipe her cheek and walk away.

  I start to go to her, but then I hear my nephew’s words about not deserving her, and my chicken-shit ass freezes right where I am, in my house, wishing I was a better man.

  Miserable, I walk back to bed and flop onto it, but still sleep doesn’t come. Around four-thirty, I give up and jump in the shower. When I head back into my room, my eye catches the letter from Sabrina sitting there on my nightstand. Instead of putting it off anymore, I tear it open, ready for her, too, to say something I don’t feel like hearing.