by Paige North
“Mom,” I say gently. “I don’t think giving him drug money is helping him.”
“Well I don’t know what else to do!” she says.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“I’m going to take a bath,” Mom says. Dad pats her hand as before she goes.
He pushes himself up from the table, dinner now officially ruined. Before he leaves he says, “We’re doing the best we can, Jordyn. I don’t say this to be mean but…you don’t know what it’s been like around here the last couple of months. We don't know how to help him.”
Later that night, I listen for Eric to come home. But he never does.
Two days later we have hit panic mode. Dad has called all the local hospitals—and some as far away as Manhattan—trying to see if he’s been injured or overdosed. Nothing. As Mom calls the few people she knows who might know where Eric is, Dad and I drive around to the seedier parts of town to see if we can spot him.
“Have you ever had to do this before?” I ask. “Drive around these areas looking for him?”
“Once or twice,” he says. “I once found him passed out near the underpass.”
“Jesus, Dad,” I say. “Why didn’t you guys tell me it’d gotten so bad?”
“We knew how hard you were working to get yourself going in New York,” he says. “We didn’t want to burden you.”
We drive for two hours and find nothing. We go back home feeling defeated and helpless.
We find Mom on the couch, her face covered in tears, clutching the phone.
“Laura, what is it,” Dad says, rushing to her side. My stomach immediately sinks.
“I found him,” she says, sobbing.
“What? Tell me, Laura.”
She shakes her head like she can’t believe it. “He’s in Florida.”
“What?” Dad says. “How did he get down there?”
“What’s in Florida?” I ask, thinking it can only be bad news.
“He flew down there,” Mom says. “Yesterday. Sit down.”
Dad and I sit on the couch as Mom takes deep breaths. She looks at Dad and takes his hands in hers. “He’s in rehab. He went down to Florida on a flight and was checked into a facility last night. I have the number here somewhere.” She fumbles through tissues and scraps of paper.
“How did this happen?” Dad asks. “I don’t understand.”
“I got a call,” Mom says, “from someone named Miles Croft.”
I feel like I’m going to pass out and be sick all at once.
“What?” I say.
My stomach is sinking and rolling and I cover my mouth—I might vomit.
“He said he knows Jordyn,” Mom says, looking at me.
“No,” I whisper.
“And that she’d told him about Eric,” my mother continues, watching me with a creased brow. “He wanted to help and said he has the resources. I don’t know how he found him—Miles said he had some people who could help—and he actually picked Eric up yesterday. Said he had a counselor with him and managed to talk to Eric and convince him to get on a plane right then and head down to the facility in Florida.”
“Jesus Christ,” Dad says, slowly taking it all in. “And what about…how much…is it…”
“Don’t worry,” Mom said. “This Mr. Croft said he was taking care of all of it. It won’t cost us anything.”
I’m still reeling. I don’t understand.
Did Miles do this out of guilt? Or because I didn’t let him send me the rest of the money?
“Well, where in Florida is he?” Dad says. “When can we talk to him? See him?”
Mom picks up a piece of paper on the table and reads from her notes. “Clear Horizons in Palm Beach, Florida.”
“Clear Horizons?” Dad practically shouts. “I know of that one. It’s the best in the country. One of those swanky places with a waiting list. How did he even get in?”
Mom shrugs. “It has a six month waiting list, but he got in last night. He’s detoxing now and they’re caring for him. That’s all I know so far.”
We’re all quiet for a moment as we process this information. Of course, I have a bit more to process.
“Who is this man to you, Jordyn?” Mom finally asks.
I lower myself into a chair, afraid my knees might finally buckle. “Miles Croft. He’s…well, he’s the guy I was seeing.”
“The one who broke your heart?” Mom asks.
I nod.
“Well, it sounds to me like he still cares for you, to do something this extraordinary for your family.”
“I need to meet this man,” Dad says. “Thank him personally. What he’s doing for Eric…for our family…” Dad chokes up, tears welling in his eyes.
Just then the doorbell rings. We all look up.
Mom rushes to the door. Dad and I listen as she speaks to someone. Finally, I catch the timbre of the voice and know who it is. When he appears in the living room with Mom by his side, I am stunned.
I stand, seeing Miles, my heart racing. The urge to run to him and away from him are equal.
He looks different somehow, although still tall, dark and gorgeous. Despite his casual attire there’s a softness to his eyes, a sort of humble pleading. I’m trying to process what he’s done but it’s still not making sense.
“This is my husband,” Mom is saying as Miles shakes Dad’s hand. “And, well, I guess you know our daughter Jordyn.”
He nods politely, his eyes heavy on mine. “It’s good to see you, Jordyn,” he says. “I was just telling your mother that Eric should be able to call you all tonight. They wanted to get him settled in first, but after that he can make a quick call to let you all know how he’s doing.”
To Mom he says, “Like I was telling you, rehab isn’t a one hundred percent guarantee, but it’s a major step in the right direction. Most importantly, we know where he is, and that he’s safe.”
Mom looks ready to throw her arms around Miles she’s so bursting with appreciation.
“Please, have a seat,” she finally says to him. “Let me make us all some tea.”
“That sounds wonderful, thank you,” Miles says as he sits.
Once tea is made, Miles, Mom and Dad sit and talk about Eric and Clear Horizons, how long the program is and that it specializes in all the things Eric needs to get better.
“And I hope you don’t think I’m being presumptuous,” Miles says, “but there is also a counseling program not far from here that helps with co-dependency and learning to deal with family members who are addicts. If you and Mr. Thompson want to go to sessions please just call the clinic. It’s out-patient, of course, and they’ve already been instructed to send all payments to me.”
“My goodness,” Mom says, now clutching his hand. “What an angel you are, dropping into our lives like this.”
But I’ve now had enough. I appreciate what he’s doing for Eric but…what the hell?
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, the first words I’ve said since he walked in the door. Everyone turns to stare at me. “I mean, what are you doing here? Getting involved in our private family stuff?”
“Jordyn,” Mom hisses.
“It’s great that you’re helping,” I say, “but why? What are you expecting to get out of this?” Because with Miles Croft, there’s always an angle.
“I wanted to help,” Miles says, looking at me. “There are things I can do and provide, and things that your family needed. It felt like the least I could do.”
“We’re very appreciative,” Mom says, her eyes shifting nervously between us. “And I’m sorry if Jordyn is being a bit rude. We’ve all been under a lot of stress lately.”
“No, don’t apologize for me,” I say. “Mom, this is the guy I was telling you about. The one who screwed me over. The reason why I left New York. He may have done something nice, but he’s not a nice guy.” All I can see in my mind as I glare at Miles is that contract. That’s all I need to keep my anger fueled.
Miles looks around the room, assessing each
of us, probably on a level of who is the craziest. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come here,” he says. “My intensions weren’t to be disruptive. I just thought you might like to see me personally so that you could ask any questions you had about where your son is,” he says to my parents. He turns back to me. “And I’ll go. But I just ask that you let me speak with you for a moment.”
“No way.”
“Jordyn,” Mom says. “I don’t intend to get in the middle of whatever happened between you two, but after what Miles has done, the least you can do is hear what he has to say.”
“Fine,” I mutter. “Just say it and get it over with already.”
“We’ll go into the other room,” Mom says, ever helpful.
“No,” Miles says. “I want you to hear what I have to say to Jordyn. Both of you.” To me he says, “No more secrets.”
I don’t know what he could possibly say to make me feel differently, but I agree to listen—but nothing else.
Miles
Seeing Jordyn here in her family home lights a fire in me, making me realize that coming here was the absolute right thing to do. Despite how different Jordyn and I are, and how differently we were raised, I know I have to be here and hope that she’ll listen to what I have to say.
“I was cold and cruel to you,” I say to Jordyn. To her parents I say, “I didn’t treat her like she deserved to be treated. She was nothing but good to me and I didn’t take care of that goodness.” I look back to Jordyn, who looks scared and angry and all kinds of beautiful. “You have a beautiful family with good people that love one another, imperfections and all. To be honest, I find that I’m a bit jealous of your life. I had all the money I never knew I needed. It was just always there, along with the servants and houses and boarding school education. But we didn’t have love in my house—only competition. That’s how I was raised: to fight with my brothers. It was an everyday occurrence. Not just who made the best grades or scored the most points but who could figure out how to make my dad happy simply by existing. My father even judged us on who gave him the best Christmas present. It’s not an excuse. It’s just how I was raised. Being the best was the only thing that mattered. Love was considered a weakness. My mother, she couldn’t handle it. She left the country but my father never allowed her a divorce. To be honest, when Mother did leave I thought her weak for not being able to sit quietly while Dad drilled his lessons into us. Now, seeing your family, I understand that there could have been a different reality. There could have been love. And I realize, Jordyn, that it’s not too late for me. I can live differently.”
She swallows hard. “Miles, I don’t know—“
But I put out my hand. “Just let me finish. I need to say it all.”
She nods. “Okay,” she says, and her mother grabs her hand.
I take a deep breath and continue. “The time I spent with you was by far the happiest of my life. I realize that all the stuff I thought was important means nothing without love. I realized that love is happiness. It’s definitely not a weakness. And I realized, Jordyn, that I love you.”
As I say the words, the first real tears of my adult life suddenly and without warning spill down my cheeks.
Jordyn’s father is smiling knowingly at me.
“Fuck,” I croak, wiping at my face and looking at the wetness on my hand. “I can’t believe I’m standing here and sobbing like a baby right now.”
“It’s called being a man,” her father says in a soft, gruff voice.
When I look up at Jordyn, my heart soars with hope.
I’ve had precious little of it lately.
Her eyes are shining and welling with tears, and I can see the last of her defenses falling. At least, I think they are. She’s still here, listening to me. As long as she’s here, I have a chance to win her back.
“Well keep going,” her mother says, snapping her fingers at me. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, apparently. Best get back to it.”
Right. I take another deep breath and look at Jordyn only. This is for her. She has to know the truth, no matter what else happens between us.
Even if she never wants to see me again.
“I think I knew I loved you for a long time,” I tell her, “but I just couldn’t admit it to myself. And losing you, seeing you walk away—pushing you away because I thought it was what was best for me—made me realize that all the things I have, mean nothing without you. I don’t care about work, or getting the right people on my team or landing whatever investments. I don’t care about fourth quarter profits or new acquisitions. The only thing that matters is you. I’m here to tell you, Jordyn, in the home you grew up in, in front of your parents, that I’m willing to give everything up—the company, my position in it, every single penny I have—just to be with you. I’d do it for one day with you. One second. If you’ll have me.”
The room is silent as Jordyn and her family hang on my every word. I step closer to Jordyn and am relieved she doesn’t shirk away from me. I reach into my pocket. With shaking legs I get down on one knee and open the small velvet box. I can hear a gasp, probably coming from her mother.
“Jordyn Thompson, will you marry me?”
Jordyn’s tears are flowing freely down her face. Her hand is over her mouth and she’s shaking her head. She’s shaking her head no, and my heart is hammering in my chest, wondering what I’ve just done. The only thing I know is that I am nothing without this woman. I have no future without her.
“What about your company?” she asks.
“I don’t care about it. Maybe in a few months or years I’ll start my own business. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters to me now, is you.”
“And your father’s will?”
“Fuck his damned will. I don’t care what it says. Let my brothers duke it out for control. I don’t want any part of it. All I want is you.”
But Jordyn shakes her head no again. She doesn’t believe me. What I’ve done isn’t enough.
Jordyn
This is not happening. I am asleep. I am dreaming. I’m shaking my head because I can’t believe it’s happening.
And then I realize the look on Miles’s face is turning slightly horrified as he watches me shake my head and not say a word.
“Okay,” I finally say. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Miles.”
Relief washes over his features and an audible sigh fills the room.
Miles slips a ring on my finger—I can hardly see through the tears but know that it’s a little big on my finger. I have to laugh—unlike with the clothes and shoes that filled that closet, all picked out by someone else, I know that Miles did this on his own.
He may be extraordinary, but he’s still a guy who had to guess at a woman’s ring size.
He stands up and we’re finally facing each other. He’s arms wrap around my waist and I’ve never felt more secure and at home in my life. He rests his forehead to mine and says, just for me to hear this time, “I love you, Jordyn. I promise I will never hurt you again.”
“I love you, too.”
Mom is hugging Dad, both of them crying—at us and all the emotions of the day. “If only we had champagne,” Mom says wistfully.
With our arms still around one another, and for only us to hear, I say, “Do you mean it?”
“Every word.”
“You were a real asshole, you know.”
“The worst.”
“I don’t want you to give up anything for me,” I tell him earnestly.
“I’m ignoring all of it. I don’t care. I want to marry you in private, with just your family and whoever else you want present. I don’t care if my brothers or lawyers know about us—in fact, I’d rather keep this bit of happiness to ourselves for as long as possible.”
“I don’t want you for your money, Miles. I hope you know that.”
He shrugs. “The good thing about having money is that we can do whatever we want, together. What do you want to do, Jordyn? Tell me, and I’ll make it hap
pen.”
“I want you to take me to a hotel room tonight and celebrate properly.”
He grins. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Luckily, Mom and Dad are understanding when, an hour later I tell them we’re going to leave for the night but promise to be back tomorrow. “We’ll talk about the wedding,” I tell Mom. One thing I do know is that I don’t want to wait long to start the rest of my life with Miles Croft.
We get a modest hotel room not far from home.
The first thing I do when the door is closed is embrace Miles. I hold on to him as tight as I can, feeling his heart beat to my chest, his breath on my skin, his arms holding me close. I hold on because my happiness depends on it, and my happiness is our life.
“I’ll never hurt you again,” he says. “Thank God I didn’t lose you completely, Jordyn.” His voice breaks a little as he says it.
But he didn’t lose me.
We’re here—really here—together. Despite everything.
Despite the crazy way this started, and the way it nearly finished.
But we somehow made it through.
I realize, upon a bit of reflection, maybe that’s all love really is, in the end—getting through the really hard stuff and still being there afterwards.
Being there to pick up the pieces and find a way to trust and love and dare all over again.
Miles touches my cheek, bringing me back to him. “Don’t leave me again, baby. Stay here with me.”
I laugh. “Trust me, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now, remember?” I waggle my sparkling ring at him and he grins.
His smile used to be rare, but now he seems to be constantly smiling.
“I’ve been dreaming about this moment,” Miles says. “Dreaming of seeing you in front of me again, talking to you.”
“And seeing me naked,” I say.
He nods. “Fuck yes. And seeing you naked.”
We slowly undress each other, discovering each other’s bodies in new ways. He kisses me slowly, taking his time. We touch and kiss every inch of each other, his mouth and hands so warm and assured on my body. I have a lifetime of this, of him. Knowing that this man loves me is what makes me feel sexy. Knowing he’s with me, forever, is what makes me want to please him all night long. When Miles comes into me—the first time—he tells me he loves me.