Zenith Falling (Zenith Trilogy, #1)

by Leanne Davis

  “Uh, he… well, I don’t know. It kind of happened. He gave me a job, and helped me out with some personal matters; and eventually, we went on a date.”

  “Hmm, wow… Aren’t you Trina’s age?” Carrie asked.

  Joelle wanted to die. Glancing at Trina, she replied, “Yes.”

  “So twelve years difference? That doesn’t bother you?”

  Trina snorted. “Probably not as much as knowing that Joelle is married to someone else.”

  “There isn’t anything Nick doesn’t know,” Joelle finally said after a drawn-out silence.

  Trina snapped the sink handle down. “How did you manage it? How did you manage to move in with Erica? And weasel your way into Nick’s life?”

  “I didn’t weasel my way anywhere. I ran into him a few times, and he offered me a job, because he knew I needed money. We became friends. And he helped me out when I needed it most. Erica did too. Erica and I became friends, entirely separate from your brother.”

  “What kind of help? You needed money? Who better than Nick? I can’t believe he fell for that. You must be one hell of a fuck.”

  Silence. The entire room fell into an awful, loud, resounding silence. Her mouth dropped open. She did not expect such a blatant attack.

  “He didn’t fall for anything. And when did you become such a nasty, little bitch?” Nick’s voice came from behind them. He pushed open the door to the kitchen as he entered. His tone was ice cold, but quiet. Joelle put down her towel. She knew this was a bad idea. She shouldn’t have been there, disrupting his family. Nick’s family. Nick’s relationship with his own family. She started to pass him, but he simply put his arm out, and brought her closer to him. Trina banged down her fist and walked out the back door.

  Sophie’s eyes grew big. “Nick, Joelle, I’m sorry. She’s just upset. Confused. A little jealous. Worried about you. I mean only because Joelle is married.”

  “I don’t need my sister grilling my girlfriend.”

  “She’s not your girlfriend. She’s married.”

  “She’s separated. All you need to know is that she’s my girlfriend. And I don’t want your opinions. Your support might be nice for once. Your treating my date with the respect I gave to you and every one of your husbands, whether I liked them or not, would be appreciated. Because let me tell you, I didn’t and don’t like all of your choices. But none of you know which ones I do or do not like, because I would never be so rude as to say.”

  “Nick, wait.” Carrie came forward. “We’re sorry. We’re just worried about you.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “She’s Trina’s old friend. It makes it weird for Trina.”

  “And Joelle? Five against one seems a little unfair. Maybe a little weird for her too, huh? I know she’s married. I know how old she is. I know exactly why I’m with Joelle Williams. And I know exactly who and what she is. And whether any of you ever do or see, it doesn’t matter. But don’t think for a second I’m going to let any, or all of you, bully her. Is there anything else you’d like to say about her?”

  His piercing eyes went right through his sisters. Joelle dropped her head; she couldn’t watch. She felt horrible. He took her hand. “Come on, Joelle, let’s get out of here.”

  “Don’t leave. Please. We’ll stop. We’d really like you two to stay,” Nick’s mom said as she rushed forward.

  He stopped and glanced down at her. Then he said quietly, “That’s up to Joelle.”

  Joelle looked around, stricken, unsure of what to say. She wanted nothing more than to leave. But if she did, they’d win. They’d have her as the villain who drove Nick away from them. Taking their beloved brother and son away. If she stayed, they’d look petty and small. So she stayed.

  “Well, let’s go join the kids and guys.”

  “Fine,” Nick said and didn’t let go of her hand again.

  Finally, the evening ended, and it was okay to leave. Joelle nearly bolted up and out before she was caught at the door by Nick’s mother. Nick, meanwhile, got pulled away by his eight-year-old niece.

  “I’ve never seen Nick like he is with you.”

  “Like what?” Joelle asked wearily.

  “Happy. Nick seems very happy with you.”

  Joelle said nothing, eyeing his mother.

  “I’m sorry about my daughters. They think of Nick as theirs. He was more a father to the younger two than a brother. It’s hard for them to let him go.”

  “I understand. I doubt he’ll ever drift away from any of them.”

  “True. We just don’t want to see Nick hurt.”

  And the unspoken threat was: Joelle would hurt him. Joelle picked up her jacket without answering. Glad, and relieved when Nick came through the hall and hugged his mother, Joelle could finally escape the lair of Nick’s women.

  She was quiet on the way home, thinking about his mother and his sisters. How could she get mad at them? Of course, they were worried about who she was, and what she might do to Nick. She was a terrible person for what she was doing. They just pointed out the truth Nick refused to see. She was the worst thing to ever walk into Nick’s life, his bed, and now his family. She was married. She tried hard to ignore that, and pretend it wasn’t a fact. Pretend it didn’t matter when she was holding onto Nick’s neck, sitting beside him, having her heart leap at the sound of his voice over the phone. But it did matter. It mattered more than everything else. And worse, it mattered the most to everyone else.

  Except to Nick. It never mattered to Nick. He just let her have the time and space she needed. Something no one else ever gave her, or showed her she needed. How could it be so wrong with Nick, when he was the only thing in her entire life to feel so right?

  Chapter Thirty

  Nick walked into his penthouse and found the lights on, as well as the TV, and he could smell something cooking. He threw his coat on the couch, and set his briefcase next to the door as he headed down the hallway to his kitchen, assuming it was Joelle. He found her in the kitchen, standing with her back to him, at the sink, running water over a pan. What looked to be dinner was heaped in the sink, now a wet, congealed, indistinguishable mess.

  “Joelle?”

  She stiffened. Turned. Glared. “Where have you been?”

  “Been? At work.”

  “Yeah, and it’s now ten o’clock at night! Here’s the stupid dinner I made you. It’s long past ruined.” She slammed the faucet down, and shut the water off before passing him in an enraged flurry. He glanced at the sink, then at Joelle, utterly perplexed. What the hell?

  Joelle had remained moody ever since last weekend’s family dinner. Nick tried to get her to talk to him, but she wouldn’t. She simply pressed her lips together, scowled at him, and turned away. So, as was customary with her, he backed off, and gave her more space. He called, but didn’t insist on seeing her. Now, she’d unexpectedly come over to his place and cooked dinner, with no warning or mention of it, and got mad that he came home at what she considered too late an hour?

  “What am I missing?”

  “You missed everything. How could you not? You think nine or ten o’clock at night is a normal, decent time to come home from work?”

  “It is for me.”

  “Great. So instead of being with a guy who won’t work, I choose one who does nothing but work, and is never here. I made your stupid dinner, and you know why? Because we met a year ago today. I thought I’d surprise you. But when are you ever here for me to bother doing it?”

  “Slow down. I had no idea that today was anything, but today. You could have called me and asked me to come home. You know I would have.”

  “That’s just it. You’re never here unless you have specific plans. A family dinner, friends, me. But otherwise, you’re working, incessantly. You’re a stupid workaholic, Nick.”

  His head started to throb and he pressed a finger to his temple. “Yeah, I am. I’m a workaholic. And you know what? I’m not sorry about that. I’ve never had a reason not to work as muc
h as I want. And you know what’s more? I still don’t have a reason to stop. Because that would mean I was in a relationship, which is not something I can claim now, is it? I give you every moment of my spare time. I make time, anytime you request it. But cut back? Slow down? Why should I, Joelle? You give me one reason why I should make any more concessions in my life to a woman who won’t commit to me, period. You’re the one who can’t decide what I mean to you.”

  Joelle stopped pacing dead in her tracks, and scowled at him. “I don’t–”

  “You don’t know what to do. Don’t you think I fucking know that by now? That I pursue you? That you can’t even once manage to come to me on your own free will? You can’t get over being nervous around me, scared of me, of my lifestyle, and everything I represent to you. Don’t you think I know all that? I’m risking as much as I can with you, I’m waiting for you to come around. But I’m not changing anymore. I can’t. I won’t. And you dare to get mad at me for that? What more do you want from me?”

  He went into his bedroom, slamming the door on her, and for once, not pursuing her, or worrying about her. He was finally good and furious at her, as well as himself for putting up with her, and their relationship that was or wasn’t. He sat down on his bed.

  She opened the door and crept in. She could be as quiet as a mouse when she wanted to. “What?” he snapped, not turning his head to look at her, and certainly not in the mood for her issues. Her shyness bothered him. She bothered him… period. He simply could not muster enough concern to comfort her.

  “I never told you the day we met up again, was actually my twenty-third birthday. I went home that night, and no one remembered it. No one noticed. But I remembered it. I remembered seeing you again.”

  He turned his body so he could see her, and let out a long sigh. “It’s your birthday today?”

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head, looking down between his feet. “You might have just told me. We could have made plans. How could I know that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t care about the birthday. I just wanted to surprise you for once. To do something nice for you just once. And pursue you for once.”

  He shook his head, feeling so tired. “Now I see… And I wasn’t here. Like Rob was never there for you on your birthday.”

  She came forward and across the bed and reached out for his neck, as she crawled into his lap like a child might with her father, seeking comfort. He hated his inability to resist her. His arms automatically wrapped around her, and he held her. Hers locked around his neck and she pressed her face into his chest. She could always manage to fracture his heart. No matter how mad he was at her, or how hurt he was; and despite how tired he’d become from trying to be with her, she could always get through to him. Because he was in love with her… and he understood her, even when he didn’t feel like it.

  “Yes. He was never there. But I knew you’d be here anytime I asked. I’m sorry, Nick. I should have just asked you.”

  He went still. She was apologizing to him! At long last, she realized that he wasn’t Rob. He let out a relieved breath. “So, what did you cook?”

  “Nothing. I tried roasting a chicken. It probably would have tasted bad anyway.”

  “You could have put in the fridge, you know. You didn’t have to throw it under the faucet.”

  “Much more dramatic that way though.”

  He chuckled. “Why do I bring out your bad temper with little or no effort?”

  “Because you allow me to show it. I can get mad at you, and you will stay here, you won’t leave,” she paused, looking up, “will you?”

  “Yes. I’m still here. I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.”

  Tears filled her eyes as she smiled shyly up at him, and buried her head into his shirt. She ruined more than one of his dress shirts with mascara. She often hid her face in his chest, so he gladly threw the stained shirts away. She could be the most infuriating, narrow-minded, rude person he’d ever met in one moment, and the sweetest, shyest, most in need of his love, woman in the next. She was, as always, a complete and utter contradiction.

  “You turned twenty-four, huh? Almost the right age for me.”

  She peeked up at him. “When did you turn thirty-six?”

  “January twenty-sixth.”

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “We weren’t talking then. Don’t worry, my mother and sisters had a big dinner for me. I’m sure you’re sorry you missed it.”

  “Have you talked to your sisters yet?”

  “About you? No. And I won’t. It isn’t for them to discuss or criticize. I am not seeking their approval.”

  “I hate to come between you and them. Especially, you and Trina.”

  “You haven’t. They’re still there, and I’m still there for them.”

  “I’m sorry for everything I caused.”

  He knew that. He knew she was always sorry. It had only been six months since Joelle showed up on his doorstep, beaten up, abandoned, and confused. She had a lifetime of neglect and self-doubt to work through. She could only claim to have felt healthy and vital again, for about three months. She wasn’t deliberately trying to hurt him, annoy him, or use him.

  As he well knew, Joelle was only ever trying to survive. And she was trying harder than anyone he’d ever met to fulfill whatever potential she had. All the while, however, she suffered from extreme lack of confidence and feared she was the worst. She didn’t believe she deserved anything decent; so naturally, it would be a long time before she actually believed it.

  “Don’t be sorry. Just be here. Okay? Just be here. That’s all I ask of you.”

  “There’s more.”

  “Okay. What?”

  “We got married on my birthday.”

  “It’s your anniversary too?” he said, his tone devoid of emotion.

  “Yes. I married Rob five years ago today.”

  “And yet, you made me dinner?”

  “I don’t know what I was doing. Or even thinking.”

  “Did you talk to him?” Nick purposely never asked about her husband. He didn’t know if she saw Rob, or talked to him on a nightly basis. He never asked and she never said.

  “No. He sent me something.”

  “What?”

  “Just a CD.”

  He grunted. “Let me guess… it’s of a new song he wrote and sang about you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And still you’re here.”

  “Yes.” But he detected that she didn’t really know where she was, or who she was by her inconsistent tone.

  “Are you staying the night?”

  “Yes. If you don’t mind.”

  “I never mind.”

  She let out a breath. “Nick?”

  “What?”

  “I wish I wasn’t me. You know, this… confused. I wish I’d met you first. I wish–”

  “You did meet me first. That’s the ironic part. And I’m glad you’re you. The only thing I ever want you to change is your marital status.”

  Nick didn’t know what to do with her latest revelation. Her anniversary AND her birthday. Yet here she was, spending it with him. She always came to him, anytime she was uncertain or feeling sad, bad, or needy. She also sought him out when she felt excited or happy. She always came to him. Why couldn’t she see how good they were together? How good they were for each other? There was nothing fucked up about them or their relationship, nothing except her marriage to Rob Williams.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Hey, baby.”

  Joelle froze when she heard the voice from directly behind her. Goose bumps broke out over arms and sweat beaded on the back of her neck. She flinched. She did not want turn around. She wanted to flee the premises. But she didn’t. Instead, she turned and faced her husband.

  Rob was only ten paces away from her, appearing quiet and subdued, which was very unusual for him. He came to her work. She couldn’t believe he was standing there in the HR offices, staring at her, in
Nick’s building, in her cubicle.

  “Rob?”

  “I’ve called your voice mail several times. You must not be getting them.”

  “Not today,” she said, knowing she was bad about receiving and returning them. Maybe on purpose; maybe because she knew Rob would try to call her at some point. She could only avoid him for so long. Eventually, she would have to address him. Deal with him. Dump him. Go back to him. Do something. Her throat grew thick with emotion, as her heart skipped a beat and her palms started sweating. “What are you doing here?”

  “You got a promotion.”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “Spike mentioned it.”

  “Oh.”

  Rob stepped closer. “You look different, Joelle.”

  Her breath caught. He looked different too. His hair was calmer, a little shaggier, and less crusty from product, falling down with natural movement. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, so the tattoos seemed less obvious, and made him appear less imposing. He had on black jeans and a black shirt. No collar, no chains, no jewelry except for his wedding ring and his watch. Most importantly, his eyes were clear. There was no more redness or blurriness, just crystal clear, beautiful, soulful green eyes.

  She glanced down at her bare fingers, remembering she took off her ring one day to wash her hands, and just left it there. She didn’t bother to put it back on because it felt nice to be free of it. “I suppose, I do.”

  “You look good.”

  “Thank you. But what are you doing here, Rob?”

  He put his hands in his pockets. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  “I’m right in middle of my day.”

  “This is important. I haven’t asked much from you in months.”

  He was right; she owed him something. An hour of her time, even her work time, was a reasonable request. “Okay.”

  She turned towards her desk, clicked her computer closed, and picked up her purse. She told Mrs. Hemmings something had come up unexpectedly, and she’d be back in an hour or so. She was very conscious of Rob standing there, who was scrutinizing her and everything about her.