You Belong With Me

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You Belong With Me Page 4

by Kristen Proby


  I’ve been to this particular cathedral many times in my life, usually for baptisms and weddings. My parents’ funerals were held here, but I didn’t go.

  I was already far away by then.

  We’re not early. I wanted to be right on time, when the church would already be full. My family never starts anything on schedule because they like being the center of attention, and they want to make sure the venue is packed.

  Judging by the size of the crowd still outside of the church as we drove past, I’d say that hasn’t changed in the past eight years.

  “We’re just going to slip into the back pew,” I say for the fifth time since we left Lia’s house. “If there’s an open casket, which I would suspect there will be, we’ll join the line to view her, but only if we can get in the middle of a line.”

  “You don’t have to go,” Lia reminds me before we exit the car.

  “Yeah, I do. She was the most important person in my life, Lia. I need to say goodbye to her.”

  Lia nods and reaches over to pat my hand with hers. “Let’s do this, then.”

  We get out of the car and link hands as we walk down the sidewalk to the cathedral. I’m relieved to see that I was right.

  The crowd out front is big. People slowly filter into the church, mingling and chatting as they do.

  “I guess one thing that never changes over the years is that funerals are social occasions,” I mutter.

  And now it’s time to put on the show of my life.

  I act the part of a man, escorting the woman he loves. My hand is on the small of Lia’s back as I lead her up the steps and inside the church. So far, I haven’t seen any of my family, which is a feat in itself since there are so many of us.

  The church is massive inside. Hushed. Stained glass and old architecture surround us. The building is an architectural masterpiece, and I’ve always loved to look at the stories in the glass.

  My goal is not to speak to anyone. I may look like a guy, but there’s no way to change my voice, so Lia’s agreed to do all of the talking.

  It seems the family isn’t here yet, which doesn’t surprise me. Even though they do all kinds of shady crap, they like to be on display. So, it makes sense that they’d wait for the rest of the onlookers to be seated before they enter the sanctuary.

  Grandma’s casket is at the front of the church, and it’s open.

  “Let’s go look before the family arrives,” I whisper to Lia. She nods, and with our hands linked, we join the line of mourners waiting their turn to see my grandmother.

  The closer we get, the bigger the ball in my stomach becomes. It’s real. She’s really gone.

  When we reach the casket and stand near her head, I sigh deeply as I stare down at the woman who loved me so fiercely.

  She looks peaceful. They have her in a red dress with her favorite signature strand of pearls. Her hair is salt and pepper and perfectly styled in the way she always wore it.

  It looks as if she’s sleeping, like she might wake up at any moment, smile at me, and suggest we have crepes for breakfast.

  I want to reach in and touch her. I want to kiss her.

  But as far as anyone knows, I’m a stranger, and it would only bring attention to myself.

  “Let’s go,” Lia whispers.

  She’s right. We shouldn’t hold up the line for too long.

  I turn to walk away, heading down the center aisle to our seats in the back. I freeze.

  Walking straight toward me is my uncle Carlo, flanked by Shane and Rocco. Carmine just came in the door behind them and is shaking hands with a man I don’t know.

  As far as I know, Uncle Carlo took over the role of boss. I loved this man. Aside from Grandma, he was the one I had the most in common with. He doted on me, as I was the only girl in the family for a long time.

  But I also know what he’s capable of, and he scares me more than a little.

  No eye contact.

  I glance at the floor and do my best to casually walk past him and my cousins. Lia’s holding onto my hand.

  Get to the back of the freaking church.

  It’s like I’m walking in slow motion. They’re going to see me. One of them is going to recognize me.

  But no one even gives me a second glance as they walk past and sit in the front pew.

  Lia and I return to our seats, and both of us let out a long breath of relief.

  “You did great,” she says and loops her arm through mine, then leans her head on my shoulder. “The hardest part is over.”

  I nod, and we sit and listen for the next hour as the priest prays and gives a sermon. Family members get up to talk, sharing memories and stories.

  That’s the part that makes me cry the hardest. I wish I could do that, too.

  Catholic funerals are long. So long. But it’s eventually over, and we’re all asked to sit and wait for the family to leave the sanctuary first, carrying my grandmother’s casket out to the hearse and then on to the cemetery.

  I blink and realize that I’m about to lose a contact. They’re not comfortable, but until now, they hadn’t given me any problems.

  I continue to blink rapidly, and sure enough, the lens falls into my hand. I look up just as my cousin Carmine walks past, carrying the front of the casket on his broad shoulder.

  His eyes lock with mine.

  They narrow.

  But he doesn’t stop. He keeps walking past, and before anyone else can see me, I slip my sunglasses on my face.

  Once the family is gone, Lia and I stand and slip out a side door, avoiding the front of the church where the family climbs into cars to go directly to the cemetery.

  I won’t go to the graveside service. It’s just for the family, and we would absolutely stick out like sore thumbs there. But I did what I came here to do. I said goodbye.

  Lia and I walk quickly, but not too fast, to her car. I drove to give the illusion of us being a couple. Once inside, I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

  And the tears come.

  “It’s the adrenaline,” Lia says, rubbing circles on my back. “And the grief. That was intense. Let’s get back to my place where you’re safe, and I’ll make you some tea.”

  I nod and work on pulling myself together. “Can you please let Archer know we’re okay?”

  She reaches for her phone and dials his number. He’s been waiting a block down the road.

  “It’s done. We’re headed back to my place. Okay, see you soon.”

  The makeup is gone. I’ve had a long, hot shower, and I’m back in my regular clothes. I walk out to the pool area of Lia’s home, where she and Archer are chatting with a man I haven’t met yet.

  “You look like you again,” Lia says with a smile as she jumps up to give me a hug. “How do you feel?”

  “A little raw. Sad. Relieved.”

  My eyes are on Archer’s. He’s clearly been worried sick. I can see it in the lines around his eyes. I want to cuddle up in his lap, and I know he would welcome that, but I’m not there yet.

  I’m too vulnerable, and Archer and I still have some work to do. Who am I kidding, there’s no work to do. I’m going back to Bandon. Alone. There’s no reason to snuggle him because nothing has changed.

  We can’t be together.

  “I’d like you to meet my husband, Wyatt,” Lia says, gesturing to the handsome man who just stood to offer me his hand.

  “It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says. He has kind eyes.

  “I can’t say the same,” I say with a smile. “But it’s nice to meet you, too.”

  “I was just telling Wyatt that he would love the cathedral we were in today. He’s an architect.”

  “You’ve never been?” I ask, surprised.

  “Not inside,” he replies. “But it sounds like Lia will be dragging me there soon. I mean, taking me there soon.”

  I sit on the loveseat next to Archer and watch the blue water shimmer in the pool. It’s warm today, despite summer almost being over.

>   “How are you?” Archer asks.

  “Exhausted,” I reply honestly. “I don’t think anyone recognized me, even after my contact fell out. I was afraid that my cousin may have placed me because, of course, he looked at me after the lens fell out, but he just kept walking.”

  “There’s no way anyone knew who you were,” Lia says with confidence. “You didn’t speak, and your disguise was iron-clad. You’re safe.”

  I nod. “Thank you. So much. I don’t think I can ever repay you for today.”

  “You don’t need to repay me,” Lia says. “You’re my friend, Elena. Even after all this time. And friends help each other.”

  The tears want to come again. God, how I missed this family. The Montgomerys were always so loving, so welcoming to me. I felt at home with them, and it seems that even after all this time, nothing has changed.

  I wish things were different. I’d love to make a life with Archer and his wonderful family.

  But that’s not meant to be, and I have a life in Oregon to get back to.

  “We should go,” I say, turning to Archer.

  He raises a brow. “Where are we going?”

  “Back to where you found me, of course. I have work tomorrow, and I need to get out of Seattle.”

  Lia’s face falls. “Can’t you stay for a day or two? You can stay here, with us.”

  “Thank you so much for the offer, but no. I need to go. And as much as it hurts me to say this, I won’t be back, Lia. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

  “But Anastasia hasn’t seen you, and she’ll be so upset.”

  My head whips around to Archer. “Does she know I’m here?”

  “She knows I found you, but I haven’t said anything else.” He turns to Lia. “Did you?”

  “Well, of course not, because Elena told me not to. But—”

  “Good.” I sigh in relief. “The fewer people who know I’m here, the better. I really do have to go. It’s not safe for me to be here. For any of you either.”

  “I hate this,” Lia says as we stand, and she hugs me once more. She’s done that a lot today. I know she was young when everything between Archer and me went down, but we always liked each other very much. “Please stay safe. And come home when you can. I’ve really missed you.”

  The guilt is swift and deep. I didn’t expect to feel so much of that. “Same here. Take care, okay?”

  Archer hasn’t said much, and once we’re in his car and headed out of town, he’s still quiet.

  “You don’t agree with what I’m doing.”

  He rubs his fingers over his lips. “No. I don’t.”

  “I’ve been gone for a long time. Grandma didn’t ask the family for permission to help me disappear. For all I know, she never told them that she helped me. I just left one day. So, I don’t know if they were looking for me. I don’t know anything about how it went down for them. But it was made clear to me that there would be repercussions for my leaving. Because this isn’t permanent. You don’t just leave the mob, even if you’re born into it and involved through no fault of your own.”

  “If you don’t even know if they’re looking for you, why do you have to hide?”

  “Because they might be. Or worse, the people responsible for my parents’ murders could be looking for me. I don’t know what they were involved in that caused their deaths. It could have been as simple as being in the family, and someone was trying to teach us all a lesson.”

  “Why wouldn’t your uncle and the others simply retaliate? Kill them all?”

  “Oh, they will. Eventually. It’s rarely swift. The mafia has a long memory, Archer. Which is why I can’t risk my life in Oregon. I love it there, and if they find me, they’ll demand I come back to work for the family.”

  “Work how?”

  I shrug. “In any way they need me.”

  “Christ.”

  The farther behind us Seattle gets, the more I relax. I truly am exhausted. I lean my head on the passenger window and close my eyes, enjoying the sunshine on my skin.

  “Hey, sweetheart. Time to wake up.”

  I blink my eyes open and frown when I see that it’s dark and we’re parked in front of my cottage.

  “Holy shit, how did I sleep so long?”

  “Exhaustion will do that to you,” Archer says as I stretch my sore neck. “I tried to wake you when I stopped for gas, but you were out cold.”

  “I’m sorry that I didn’t help with the driving,” I murmur but realize he’s already left the car and is rounding the hood to open my door.

  I’m totally out of it.

  “Come on.” He holds out his hand for mine and then tugs me out of the car. He has my duffle bag in his other hand and guides me to the door.

  Archer has always taken care of me. He’s the kind of guy who fills your car with gas and makes sure you’re fed. He always used to ask me if I was cold and offer me his sweatshirt.

  I still have one of them. And I’m not sorry for never giving it back.

  I unlock the door, and we walk inside, turning on the lights as we go.

  “Are you headed back to Seattle tonight?” I ask.

  “No.”

  I frown as he sets my duffle bag down and then turns and walks back outside. Before I can look out the window to see what he’s doing, he walks back in with a bag of his own, shuts and locks the door, and turns back to me.

  “Do you want me on the couch?”

  “You’re staying?”

  “For as long as you’ll let me,” he confirms.

  I sigh. “We clearly have a lot to talk about.”

  “Agreed. And it’s not going to happen tonight. We’re both exhausted, E. Let’s get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow.”

  “I really should go to work in the morning.”

  Archer checks his watch. “It’s already the morning. Just past midnight. You only took one day off, and you told them you’d be gone for a few days. Take one more day to rest up, Elena.”

  “I hate it when you’re right.”

  He grins.

  “So, am I on the couch?”

  “It’s too small for you,” I reply, eyeing his broad shoulders and long, lean body. He grew a couple of additional inches after we broke up. “I don’t mind sharing the bed.”

  He nods, and I lead the way upstairs. Despite a six-hour nap, I feel like I could sleep for another twelve.

  “Why am I so tired?”

  “You had a pretty wild twenty-four hours,” he reminds me. “The adrenaline of not wanting to be recognized, the grief of the funeral. All of it. It’s intense, and your body is ready to rest.”

  “You’re not kidding.”

  “Can I use your shower?”

  “You can use whatever you like,” I reply as I shuck out of my shoes and stand in the middle of the room. “I usually sleep naked, but that probably won’t work tonight.”

  “Not if you want me to keep my hands to myself.”

  I glance at him. “Not keeping your hands to yourself will only complicate things. So, I’ll find something to sleep in.”

  “We’re as complicated as it gets, honey.” He kisses my forehead. “Go to sleep. I’m gonna wash up. I’ll be back in a few.”

  I nod and watch him walk back down the stairs before I turn to my small dresser and forage for an old tank top and a fresh pair of panties.

  I love having Archer here. And that’s a problem. I can’t get used to it. I can’t just fall into his arms because that’s where I feel safe. Because it feels good. I have to be smarter than that. He’ll be gone soon, and I’ll be left alone all over again.

  I can’t get used to him.

  I hear the water running in the shower as I decide to quickly change the sheets on the bed. Sleeping in fresh bedding is the best. Not that I won’t sleep like the dead anyway.

  I’ve just slipped the cases on the pillows and slid between the sheets when Archer walks up the stairs.

  “You must be tired,” I say, watching in rapt fascination as a mostly nake
d Archer walks around my little loft-slash-bedroom. He’s a big man, making the room feel even smaller than it is. And holy hell in a handbasket, his body has only improved with age.

  He was something to write home about when he was twenty. At thirty-two? He’s ridiculous.

  It’s definitely good that I’m wearing clothes. And that I’m so tired.

  Okay, maybe I’m not that weary.

  I shake my head and push my hand through my hair. Pull it together, Elena.

  I mean, Ally.

  I’m Ally.

  Archer slips into bed next to me and reaches over to extinguish the light. In the darkness, we lie down, and my eyes instantly close. I’ve always felt safe here in my little cottage.

  And now, with Archer here, as well, I feel protected. It’s amazing.

  And fleeting.

  Chapter 4

  ~Carmine~

  “I’m telling you, she was there,” I repeat and lean over my father’s desk, staring him in the eyes. “Elena attended Grandmother’s funeral.”

  The thought still cuts me to the core.

  “And why didn’t you say something then?” Pop asks.

  “Because I had Grams’ casket on my shoulder. It wasn’t exactly the time or place.”

  Rocco paces behind me. My brother shares my frustration. We were close to Elena, raised together like siblings rather than first cousins. In fact, there’s nothing that my brothers and I wouldn’t do for her.

  She knew that.

  So why did she run? And where the fuck has she been?

  “She was disguised as a man,” I mumble, turning to pace the office, as well. “But when she looked up, her eyes gave her away.”

  “I can’t believe she could pull that off,” Rocco mutters.

  “Where has she been?” I demand, turning back to my father. “Do you know?”

  He puffs on his cigar, sits back in his big, black chair, and seems to think it over.

  “I thought she was dead,” Rocco adds. “She just vanished.”

  “When Vinnie and Claudia died, the family was in chaos,” Pop reminds us.

  “Not so much that Elena would miss her own parents’ funeral,” I reply and walk to the window of my father’s office that looks out over the city of Seattle. “We all assumed that she was killed too, and that we’d never find her.”

 

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