by Karina Halle
“That’s it? You just…trusted me?”
“I’ve always trusted you. I knew that whatever you were doing, there was a reason for it. That you still loved me and you wouldn’t do something that drastic, that crazy, unless you had to. Unless it was against your will.”
“It was my parents.”
“I know. I knew it before Charlie told me.”
“Charlie told you?” I exclaim. Again, something he never mentioned when I was emailing him.
“Right away,” he says. “He was the one who told me you’d left. It was only later that I noticed you’d broken his nose. He confessed pretty quickly. If it weren’t for you, I would have done some damage to him myself. But you know Charlie didn’t really know what he was doing. And he’s not really the point of any of this. But I knew.”
“Why didn’t…” I begin, then stop myself.
“Why didn’t I come after you? Talk to you? I tried, you wouldn’t have any of it. I wasn’t calling to try and change your mind, I wanted you to know that I understood.”
I shut my eyes. “Why are you so good to me?”
“Because I love you,” he says, running his thumb over my lip, my cheek. “I love you more than ever.”
“But I was horrible. I ran away. I should have known you’d understand.”
“Yeah, you should have known. And it was horrible. And you left me a broken man, Ron. That wasn’t easy to get around.” He breathes in deeply. “But it was a bit easier because I knew the truth. I knew it wasn’t because you didn’t love me that you left, but because you loved me that much. I knew your reasons. I could never fault you for them. If you had told me what was happening, we would have put the marriage on hold while we figured stuff out. We would have done it together.”
“I didn’t know…”
“You should have known,” he says quickly. “But like I said, I understand. I know what your parents are like. They were my bloody in-laws for long enough, I’m adept at dealing with them. I knew that you felt guilt over Juliet still, that you wanted to do the right thing by me and that leaving was the best option for everyone. I know that’s what you believed. But it doesn’t matter anymore.” He pauses, eyes searching and searching and searching me. “Freckles, I’m taking you home.”
Oh, my heart. Blooming, growing, perfumed like a flower.
So fucking fragile.
“I can’t go,” I say and I can’t even believe those words are leaving my mouth. “I can’t go. My life is here now. I have a job. Two of them. Claire needs me. I…” The thought of Arch flashes through my head. He doesn’t even fucking count.
“Your life was never here,” he says gruffly, hand at my jaw. “Ever. Your life belongs with me.” He kisses me and if I didn’t get a shock before, I’m getting it now. These lips, his lips flush on mine, the warmth of his mouth, brings me back to life. It’s a meteor slamming deep inside me, a shake-up, a change.
I don’t ever want him to stop.
Ever.
His fingers lost in my hair, making me whimper against his mouth, his arm around my waist, holding me in place, the same feeling as if he’s about to fly off somewhere, like a superhero, bring me with him.
But I can’t. He’s right, what I have here in Chicago is false, like the façade of an old-west town. It isn’t a real life and it was never really mine. It was something I put on to protect myself from a cold, new land. Claire will understand.
It doesn’t change why I left in the first place though, it doesn’t change any of that.
“I can’t,” I tell him, breaking our kiss, our mouths wet and breath heavy as we stare at each other. “They’ll never change their minds.”
“I don’t give a bloody fuck if they don’t change their minds,” he says, voice booming. It makes my nerves stand on end. “I love you. You’re going to be my wife, I don’t care what happens to me, what the world says is right or wrong, what other people think. You are my world and that’s the only world that matters.”
“I can’t watch them destroy what you’ve worked so hard for!” I cry out.
“They won’t,” he says. “They won’t.”
“Did you not hear me? They will! They’ll never go for this, they’ll never understand.”
He raises his chin, staring down at me. “Veronica. I’m old. I know a thing or two about how to deal with people and make a bad situation better. Some things take time and planning.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What did you think I’ve been doing for the last six months,” he asks, “sitting around on my ass, surfing with Charlie, picking my nose?”
“Well, no, but—”
“I’ve been saving money, I’ve been switching things around in my portfolio, talking to banks, I’ve been working with a goal in mind. A goal that should have always been on my mind, but I got lazy and complacent with Juliet. That isn’t the case now.”
I stare at him blankly.
“As of last week, I own one-hundred-percent of Moonwater.”
Still staring at him blankly. None of this computes. Wires in my brain are fried.
“What?”
“I contacted your father. I bought him out.”
“My father?” I repeat. “He just…”
“He’s more reasonable, as you know. And technically all of your parents’ money in the hotel was his money, from his offshore account, unrelated to your mother.”
“Why would my father have an offshore account for himself and not her?”
Logan shrugs, frowning with annoyance. “Who knows. Maybe for tax purposes, maybe as a contingency fund if shit hits the fan. Maybe he’s smartening up and leaving her. Who knows, but it doesn’t really matter because have you heard a bloody thing I’ve just said?”
“I have I just…” I can’t believe it. That’s what it is.
Logan grabs my hand, squeezing it. “It’s a lot to take in, but while you’ve been thinking I’m over in Kauai and forgetting about you, I’ve been working my ass off in order to bring you back. And I have. There is nothing to fear anymore, not for you, not for me. There isn’t a single tie between your parents and I anymore. There’s nothing but ocean.” He sighs and tilts his head, studying me with warm eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Ron. From this moment on, it’s going to be okay.”
It still takes time for it all to sink in.
Freedom.
So much freedom.
Logan owns Moonwater. He owns his pride and joy. He did it to save himself, to save me. There’s no one that can stop us, no one to hold anything over our heads.
Except my parents. But their threats have no meaning anymore.
I wonder if that was what my dad wanted to talk to me in private about. It has to be. He was going to tell me that Moonwater now belonged to Logan.
And then what?
“Did my dad know you were coming here?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. I didn’t say anything about that. But I think he knows. Maybe not right away, but he knew why I bought them out. He knew I did it for you. And I think he knew that there wasn’t anything that would stand in my way until you were standing by my side.”
God. As if my heart couldn’t grow any bigger, it’s pressing against my chest, warm and glowing.
He did it for me.
“And it was worth it and then some,” Logan says. “As long as you come back with me.” He reaches into the pocket of his dark jeans and pulls out my ring. The sight of it floors me. “As long as you wear this again.” He pauses. “Do you want me to propose again? Because I thought the first time was pretty hard to beat.”
I laugh. Small at first, then a big belly laugh that rolls out of me. He’s laughing too, eyes crinkling in joy as he slides the ring on my left hand.
“Please, Veronica Locke,” he says, clearing his throat, the graveness coming back into his features. “Agree to…agree to marry me. Again.” He sighs, shaking his head. “See, that was bloody awful. Ruined it.”
I grab his ha
nd, his face, stare up at him. “Yes, Logan Shephard, I agree to agree to marry you. Again.”
We kiss, smiling against each other’s mouth, feeling the joy course through my body like bubbles in fine champagne. If it weren’t for Logan’s strong arms around me, I swear my feet would be lifting off the ground.
But it isn’t as easy as the moment is leading me to believe. The joy of our love, our reunion, is overshadowing one more harsh reality.
This isn’t over.
We aren’t home free.
Not yet.
I break away, my heart picking up the pace. “We have to tell my parents. Together. In person.”
He nods. “I know. I wasn’t sure if you would be up for that. As you know, sometimes it’s easier to leave.”
I punch him in the shoulder. “Hey.”
He takes my punching hand, opens my palm, kisses it. “But if you’re ready, I’m more than ready. They won’t understand, you know this. And when your mother finds out she has nothing to hold over us, if she doesn’t already know, then she’s going to get ugly. I don’t want to put you in that situation if I don’t have to.”
I square my shoulders. “I’m ready. I’ve been waiting for this.”
Indeed, it feels like I’ve been waiting for it my whole life.
“Okay,” he says. “Look, I should get back to my hotel.”
I raise my brows. “Are you kidding me right now?”
He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “Well, I don’t want to go back to my hotel.”
“You’re insane,” I tell him. “Insane and I love you for it.” I grab his hand and lead him toward my bedroom. “You’re staying here, with me, and we won’t be sleeping.”
I hope Claire has her earplugs in, because the moment I shut the door, we both fall into each other’s arms, fall into the bed, fall back into a love that never went away.
We spend time kissing each other, our mouths exploring each other’s bodies like we’re seeing them for the first time. Our fingers caress and tease, our eyes linger and stare. After being apart for so long, after thinking I might never see him again, I’m amazed at the restraint. Maybe because we know now why you need to hold onto every single second you’re with someone.
Eventually he climbs on top of me, his heavy weight pressed against my chest, my legs open for him, waiting, yearning. He pushes in, slow at first, a long, deliberate thrust that fills me up, filling the hollow places, making me feel like I’m finally whole.
We move in an easy, rocking rhythm, slow, sensual, his finger in my mouth, another hand at my breast. I suck, I moan, I lean back as his lips and teeth trail from my ear, down my neck, to my nipples. I’m being feasted on, slowly, beautifully.
When we come, we come together, gentle cries that fill the room, gripping each other like we’ll never let go. And I know I’ll never let go.
Not this time.
Not ever.
* * *
The next morning Logan raids our kitchen and cooks Claire and I a huge breakfast. This is actually a first for us, I’ve never seen Logan cook and though it’s just bacon, eggs, and hash browns, it tastes like the best damn thing on earth. I warn him that when I come back to Kauai, he’s going to be cooking a lot more often. I may just go on strike.
Kauai. Home. I still can’t believe it and I’m sure it will take a few days to really realize what’s happening. But I’m doing it, and it feels right.
We didn’t even have to tell Claire, she knew the moment she saw Logan in the hallway that I was leaving and not coming back. I know she’s sad to see me go, but she also wants me to be happy, and I have not been a fun roommate this year, moping every single day.
My line cook job is easy to quit. I do it over the phone and though I feel bad leaving them hanging, I was completely expendable and replaceable there. They’ll be fine. Besides, my job at Moonwater doesn’t require references. Apparently it never has.
Logan books us both plane tickets back to Lihue tomorrow. Since it’s so last minute, it’s going to be a real journey with infinite layovers but as long as he’s by my side, I don’t care. I’ll sit on a million planes with him, be stuck in a million airports, and it won’t make a difference.
Together we spend the rest of the day packing up my stuff. I never thought of Claire’s as a permanent home, so some of my stuff isn’t even properly put away and I haven’t purchased anything new since my return. It’s easy to throw everything in the suitcases and be done with it.
Even so, I take my time, mainly because I know I’m putting off the inevitable. The longer I linger in the apartment with Claire and Logan, the more that I don’t have to face my parents.
But when we’re finished and it looks like I’m leaving no trace of me behind, we know there’s only one thing left to do.
“Time to say goodbye,” Logan says, bringing my two suitcases to the door. And it’s not just to Claire, whom I just spent five minutes hugging tearfully. It’s to my parents. We know how this is going to go.
We get in a cab and head to their house.
I’m a barrel of nerves. I jump when Logan puts his hand on mine.
“It’s going to be okay,” he says. “All we have is the truth, and if they don’t like it, then that’s the end of it. We turn around, we go home. Got it?”
I got it. Doesn’t mean I like it. And contrary to what I said last night, it doesn’t mean I’m ready.
But before I know it, before I can prepare, the cab is pulling up in front of their house in Lincoln Park. I say their house, because it doesn’t feel like mine anymore. It doesn’t seem possible that it was ever my home. The Veronica from then is a different person than me, a twin, long lost and never to be found again. I’ll never search for her.
“Here it is,” Logan says, taking in a deep breath. He slips the cabbie a twenty and asks him to wait for ten minutes.
“Ten minutes?” I ask as we get out.
“Do you think your parents are going to invite us in for tea?”
Good point. I guess knowing there’s a cab waiting to sweep us away makes it easier.
Logan grabs my hand, holds it up between us as a sign of solidarity. We are a team. Team Gruff.
We go through the gate and walk up the long stone path to the house, stopping in front of the door.
Logan rings the bell.
I figure that Mary, the housekeeper, will answer but instead it’s my father.
He doesn’t look surprised to see us at all.
“I figured you would be here. Maybe not today, but some day soon.” His voice is burdened.
“Hi dad,” I tell him, giving him a shy smile. I don’t want to hurt my father, but it’s something I’m prepared to do. “We need to talk to you and mom.”
He nods with a heavy sigh. “Yes. Well I just had a talk with your mother myself. It’s good timing. She’s still in shock about it all.”
“Who are you talking to?” I hear her voice boom from inside the house.
Logan squeezes my hand tighter and shoots me a hopeful smile. He’s got me. We’ve got this.
When my mother sees us, she gasps loudly, hand at her mouth, then her chest. Talk about a pearl-clutcher.
“What the hell is he doing here?” she says, looking between the two of us. Her lip curls up with disgust when she notices our hands entwined with one another.
“Mrs. Locke,” Logan says. “Always a pleasure to see you.”
Her eyes narrow, her cheeks turning red. My mother is a beautiful woman for her age, but it’s moments like this that make her ugly as sin. Her true self can’t help but show.
“Are you here to make a fool of me?” she sneers. “Is that what this is?”
“No one is making a fool of anyone,” Logan says. “We came to tell you…”
“That I’m leaving,” I speak up, finding my voice. I clear the uncertainty from it. “We’ve decided to be together. To get married. We’re heading back to Kauai tomorrow, staying in a hotel tonight. I just wanted to say goodbye.”
My dad takes his hand away but doesn’t back down. “I did what was right. We had no business in that hotel, Rose, and you know it. It was to help Juliet and Logan. Juliet’s gone. Our interests are too.”
I’m glad my father is speaking up. He’s going to pay for it later, but since it seems like he’s already paying for it, I have faith this might make him stronger in the end.
But it’s none of my business. I can only worry about me and Logan, just as they will only worry about themselves.
“I know you don’t want Logan and I together, I know you think this will create a scandal, make people talk. But let them talk. Let them think what they want. I’m sorry if you have to suffer in any way but I’m not going to give up the love of my life over that. And if you can’t be happy for me, if you can’t see my heart and see the good this man brings me, then I’m sorry. But I choose him. I choose love. And I choose this life, the one I’m leaving for.”
For a moment I think I see softness in her eyes, maybe a glimmer of understanding, maybe I’ve let her feel, for one moment, what it’s like to be me, what I truly deserve. But then it’s gone. Her gaze hardens, her posture stiffens. Whatever empathy, sympathy, she might have felt is buried deep down. I’m not sure she’ll ever see this for what it is.
But that’s on her now. I’ve done my part.
“I love Veronica,” Logan says, his voice low and strong. “And you can choose not to believe it. But she believes it. And so do I. We’ll be out of your hair now and you know you can always reach out to us and we’ll be there for you. As a family. But you aren’t family unless you want to be and that means accepting all that we are. In Hawaiian you would be ohana. And it will always be an option.”
My mother stares at us with all her fury, and I can see how ruined she is by all of this. That she thinks that I am choosing Logan over her, just as Juliet chose Logan over her. She hates to lose, even though she thinks what she’s losing is replaceable.