Falling for the Good Guy (NICE GIRL TO LOVE)

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Falling for the Good Guy (NICE GIRL TO LOVE) Page 10

by Violet Duke


  “Is that your big plan for court?” Brian’s voice was boiling mad now. “To call mom an alcoholic and Connor a bastard?”

  “Of course not. I’m simply going to help the judge see that while your ‘mom’ did nothing but drink her days away, I was working nonstop and taking care of our family. A family that started off with a pregnancy she sprung on me during our engagement—the illegitimate heir who I’ve been more than financially generous with and who I’ve helped mold into the fine, succesful citizen he is today.”

  Abby shuddered, every word out of his mouth was making her skin crawl.

  “You’re painting a bullshit story,” growled Brian. “I’ll have mom’s lawyer depose me to set the record straight; I’ll tell the judge the real story behind the entire money situation.”

  “By all means, son, go ahead. Go ahead and tell the judge how your evil, evil father offered you and Beth a large sum of money to help build a life away from the recriminating eyes here—money that you threw back in my face…the same day you begged me to help when you learned your half-brother would soon not have even a penny to his name. And while you’re at it, do remember to tell the court how I moved legal mountains to then let you have your grandfather’s inheritance early while also allowing Connor to keep the inheritance he never would have gotten due to his lack of blood ties.”

  “That’s now how it happened and you know it,” raged Brian.

  Marcus tsked. “Really? Because that’s how I remember it. I distinctly remember that after you and I had our little talk, I found it in my heart to contest your grandfather’s definition of an heir—the direct result of which was Connor immediately using his entire inheritance to buy the home you’re currently living in now.” He paused for what was clearly dramatic effect. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, this monster of a father didn’t stop there; he then paid for the three years of tuition at Stanford, where his illegitimate child earned the dual JD/MBA degree program that have made him into the success he is today…in the law firm with ‘Sullivan’ on the name plate, of course.”

  Abby gasped. Marcus had played both his sons like pawns in a no-lose chess match for himself. He’d indebted both sons to him, and all they’d been trying to do was look out for one another. And the worst part was that neither knew that the other had struck a deal with the devil on their behalf.

  “Oh,” Marcus continued in a triumphant tone, “and don’t leave out the part about Connor’s success being the very thing that has allowed him to pay for the bulk of Beth’s medical and care home expenses as well. The judge should definitely hear that.”

  Brian’s jaw was clenched tight as he stood there silently, unable to dispute anything the awful man had said.

  “All I’m doing is telling the judge the truth, Brian—it would be unjust for your mother to request half of what she hasn’t worked a day in her life to earn. She was a manipulative disgrace as a wife and a failure as a mother. So I had a few transgressions…who could blame me? Considering the toxic family life I had to go home to.”

  “And yes, it’s true that I don’t have to go into quite as much detail about Connor, especially not in the presence of everyone he sees in and out of the court room on a daily basis. But I’m tired, son. Tired of Connor spitting in my face. Without me, he’d be nothing.”

  Abby burst forward and yanked the door out from Brian’s grip. “He would’ve been far better off without you!”

  A nasty smile lit Marcus’ face. “Ah, and here she is, the paragon that is proving to be quite the heart collector. Nice to see you again, Abby. And with a different Sullivan, no less. I hope this one is more to your liking than the last.”

  Abby winced as if she’d been struck.

  Brian moved forward to shield Abby from Marcus’ condemning stare. “I’ve heard enough. Get the hell off my property.”

  “Tut-tut. Again, not your property. Your bastard half-brother’s.”

  When Abby all but snarled at him under her breath, Marcus turned back to her with his brows cocked with interest, like a predator smelling fresh blood. “Oh, now what’s this? Brian, is your perfect angel still hung up on Connor?” A snide grin slid across his face. “Wow, it really is true what they say—sons do end up falling for women exactly like their mothers. What is it with us Sullivan men and our weakness for two-timing whores?”

  BRIAN SNAPPED. He grabbed his father by the lapels of his suit and threw him against the door frame. Heaving with rage, he couldn’t even form a sentence, let alone words beyond feral snarls as he drew his fist back.

  The sudden sight of Abby’s face crouching in his field of vision was the only thing that kept his fist from descending, kept him tethered to his sanity. She fastened both hands on his face and was uttering something, her expression filled with alarmed concern, and wholly traumatized. Brian waited for the blood to stop roaring in his ears so he could make out what she was saying.

  “I don’t care what he says about me, Brian. Hold it together. Come back to me.” She repeated the words he’d said to her when she’d been ready to crumble in front of Gabriella. “It’s just you and me here, no one else. Come back to me.”

  Dusting off his designer suit as he got up, Marcus spat out spitefully, “Don’t you mean, you, Brian, and Connor?”

  “Mr. Sullivan,” said Abby coolly, keeping a firm hold on Brian’s hands, “whether or not Brian is listed as the owner of this property, this is his legal domicile and he has every right to ask you to leave. If you do not vacate the premises in the next ten seconds, we will call the police. Seeing as how you’re attempting to build this false image of a perfect father for the judge, I’m sure you wouldn’t want that.” Abby met his gaze steadily and simply said, “Ten…nine…”

  Marcus gave her a repugnant glare and pivoted without a word, back to his Mercedes in the driveway.

  Brian felt Abby place her hands on his face again, felt her eyes on him as she waited patiently for him to stop tracking Marcus’ car while it rolled leisurely down the street.

  He knew without a doubt the asshole was doing that intentionally.

  “Brian, I think you should call your mother and tell her what your father has planned,” said Abby calmly. “We don’t want Connor to get blindsided by all this in court.”

  Brian blinked and focused on Abby’s face, torn up inside over the twinge of jealousy he was feeling over the level of Abby’s concern for Connor.

  No. He wouldn’t let Marcus poison anything more in his life or Connor’s. “Abby, what he said about you—”

  “I told you, I don’t care what that sorry excuse for a man says about me.” She gave him a quiet look. “Do you? Care about what he said?”

  “No, definitely not.” As he said it he knew how true a statement that was. Jealous or not, he could get past Abby’s feelings for Connor as long as he knew one thing for sure.

  “Do you love me, Abby?”

  She slid her hand over his chest, over his heart. “Yes.”

  “Then that’s all that matters. The rest will work itself out. I’ll wait however long it takes.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “SO HAVE YOU AND BECKY’S FOLKS finalized a schedule around Jean going back to college? Her first classes are in second session aren’t they?” Abby navigated the shopping cart over to the fruits while Brian got a few more veggies for the casserole they were going to make the girls tomorrow night.

  Brian nodded. “For the most part. Wednesday is the only night they absolutely need Becky to have dinner with us since George has the late shift and Jean’s class doesn’t get out till eight. Mondays and Thursdays will strictly be an afterschool thing since she’ll be home by six. And we’ll trade off full weekend sleepovers based on Jean’s papers and projects. Luckily, her professors already emailed her the syllabus so we could plan—”

  “Brian? Abby?”

  Abby turned just in time to catch the gushing, runaway train hug that came crashing into her.

  She laughed at the very familiar hug. Nurse Jen ha
d always been extremely perky.

  “Ohmigosh, what’s it been, like a year now?”

  Brian stepped forward and gave her a warm hug as well. “Almost a year and a half, actually. How’ve you been, Jen? Are you still over at the center?”

  The bright, cheerful woman they’d gotten to know so well over the years proudly showed them her new hospital badge clipped onto her scrubs. “Actually, no. After I got married, we found a great apartment in Tempe so I applied for a nursing position closer to home.” She smiled. “It’s an adjustment but so far, I’m really enjoying the challenge.”

  “I’m so happy for you. And belated congrats on your wedding,” added Abby. “You’d just gotten engaged when we saw you last, right?” She remembered noticing the engagement ring for the first time at Beth’s funeral.

  “Thanks! Yeah, we had a pretty quick engagement and a super small wedding.” Jen bounced up and down excitedly. “But enough about me, tell me all about you two!”

  Abby and Brian looked at each other. “What do you mean?”

  “You two are obviously together now. I think that’s so great.”

  Abby shifted uncomfortably and faded back a bit, hoping Brian would take the reins on this one. Jen, being one of Beth’s nurses back at the care center, was one of the few people outside of family that had been in close contact with Beth in the final years of her life. For some reason, Abby just felt awkward talking to her about her new relationship with Brian.

  “So have you two been dating long?”

  “No, just under a month now,” replied Brian, giving Abby a quizzical look.

  Sugarplums, she must not be doing a good job masking her discomfort.

  Jen gave Abby another half hug. “I’m just so glad it worked out for you two. I’d always hoped it would.”

  Really? That was…odd.

  Jen turned back to Brian. “And it’s so wonderful that you’re getting to now fulfill your promise to Beth. I used to hear all the stories you’d tell her about how you and Abby fell in love—”

  Abby stiffened and she felt the room spin. One look at Brian’s horrified, guilt-filled expression was enough to numb her senses, render her limbs useless. The carton of eggs she’d been holding slipped through her fingers and splattered all over the floor.

  “Oh goodness!” Jen rushed forward. “Are you okay? Are you feeling faint?”

  Woodenly, Abby just shook her head.

  Brian stepped in then, alarm etched in every worried line on his face. “I think we better cut this shopping trip short and head home. Jen, do you mind letting the manager know about this spill?”

  “No, of course not. You just take care of Abby.”

  “Thanks.”

  He quickly came to her side and wrapped an arm around her. “Abby, just let me explain when we get home,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t jump to any conclusions.”

  Abby couldn’t hear him over the blood pounding in her ears. And all that kept reverberating in her head were Jen’s words: ‘fulfill your promise to Beth…stories you’d tell her about how you and Abby fell in love—.’

  “Abby, honey. It’s not what you think.”

  She had no idea what to think anymore.

  Abby remained silent the entire car ride home, her brain, her heart too shattered for her to think straight.

  The minute they walked into her house, however, she exploded. “So that’s all this is?” She gestured between the two of them. “You’re only with me because of some promise you made to Beth?!”

  “No, Abby, listen.”

  “Listen to what? There hasn’t been anything to listen to. You’ve never told me about any of this. I had to learn about it from your dead wife’s nurse!”

  “Just let me explain.”

  “Explain how you promised your dying wife that you’d hook up with me? Or are you going to explain the part about telling her lies about us falling in love? Which came first?”

  “That’s not how it happened.”

  “Which. Came. First?”

  “The promise,” replied Brian quietly.

  Suddenly, there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room to fill her lungs. “So first you made that promise to Beth, and then you started feeding her lies about us? Those stories Jen overheard about how we ‘fell in love,’ how long were you telling them to Beth?”

  “Abby—”

  “How long?!”

  “For over a year.”

  Oh my god. Her knees gave out and she crumbled to the ground. All this time. Nothing had been what it seemed. “None of this was real,” she whispered aloud.

  “Don’t you dare say that! Everything between us has been real, Abby. Every single thing.” Brian went down on his knees and grabbed her hands. “I love you, Abby. Those stories, and even the promise, have nothing to do with what’s happening with us now.”

  “How can you say that? They have everything to do with it. A year? For all you know, you could have brainwashed yourself into believing you were in love with me with all those stories you made up, or forced yourself there because of that promise. Why on earth would she make you promise something like that?” Abby pulled her hands away from him and covered her face. She’d been right all along. Beth had been haunting their relationship; she just never imagined it’d be to this degree.

  “Abby, stop. Just calm down and listen. Please.” He grabbed hold of her shoulders. “You didn’t see all that went on. You have no idea what it was like. Beth’s mother died when she was young and her father could barely take of himself, let alone Beth. So it was all up to me. I was twenty-four years old when I started having to take care of Beth’s every need around the clock. She couldn’t get around on her own, couldn’t bathe or use the bathroom, couldn’t even eat on her own. I can’t tell you how many times she almost choked to death right in front of me the worse things got...and that was just a normal day.”

  Painful memories twisted his features, aged him right before her eyes. “But all of that was a piece of cake compared to how that damn disease started screwing with her thoughts and emotions. For a full year, I couldn’t go a week without Beth screaming for me to take Skylar and get the hell out. Without her physically trying to harm me and in turn constantly injuring herself. Without her begging me to let her die, begging me to do her a favor and kill her with my bare hands.”

  Abby sat frozen, almost unable to take in all that she was hearing. He was right, while she’d read about the symptoms and seen maybe a fraction of it while she’d babysat Skylar, she hadn’t experienced any of it the way Brian had.

  “Every day and every night, I had to find the strength not to break down or curl into a ball and cry my eyes out. I had to hold it together the day Beth bawled and told me she could no longer take care of her own baby. I had to put on a brave smile and tell her we’d figure out our own way of communicating when she began to lose the ability to speak. I had to not let her see it kill me when her limbs started twisting and turning to stone, when she could no longer go a day without pain and anguish being the only things I could see in her eyes.”

  His voice grew ragged, haunted. “And this was all before I had to make the decision to put her in a 24-hr care center. It devastated me to have to do that—to desert my wife, pawn her off on a facility because I could no longer take care of her, keep her alive. And even then, I used to lie awake at night afraid that I’d get a call telling me ‘there was nothing they could do,’ that she’d pass away scared and alone because I’d made the decision to give up taking care of her.”

  Eyes clenched tight, he took in a broken breath and fell back against the wall. “Then, after all of that, all that heartache, all that suffering, that’s when the disease began to steal her memories away. Soon, Skylar was no longer her daughter, and I was no longer her husband. You have no idea what’s it like, Abby, to love someone who simply isn’t there anymore, who doesn’t even know you anymore. On the days where her dementia was really bad, she’d be just plain terrified of me when I’d come to visit…and
on even her best days, I was just a stranger she didn’t know. Didn’t love.”

  “But she was still my wife. Just because she no longer loved me or even recognized me didn’t make my love for her just cease to exist. So if all I could do for her was sit and be her nameless friend and give her a fleeting day’s worth of happiness, I was willing to do it. Even though it broke my heart every time.”

  Brian looked down at his ring finger, the tan line still there though his wedding band was long gone. “She motioned to my ring one day and I figured out that the stories she wanted to hear the most were about my wife. At first, I felt a glimmer of hope; I convinced myself that a part of her remembered our life together. But when I tried to share our memories with her, she became so upset, so confused, I just had to stop.”

  He glanced up. “Then one day, she ‘met’ you.”

  Abby could barely breathe for the emotions she saw in his eyes.

  “Beth was so convinced you were my wife, she wouldn’t let it go. And after an hour of trying to figure out what she was asking of me, I realized she wanted to hear our story—the story of how you and I fell in love…” A bittersweet smile crossed his features. “She always was a romantic.” He sighed. “And she was also insistent. But I just couldn’t get myself to exchange your name with Beth’s and relay her own stories that she could no longer remember, with you in her place. I couldn’t. So I made up new ones, fake ones to chronicle the epic romance that was Brian and Abby’s life together.”

  He scrubbed a wary hand over his face. “I’d planned only to do it that one day, figuring when I became her nameless friend again the next day, it would never come up again. But it did. It kept coming up, over and over again. It became clear that those stories made her the happiest, the most content. So I kept doing it. The days you weren’t with me, you usually didn’t come up. The days you did come by, she would ask for the stories without fail. Not through words obviously because she couldn’t speak, but with cards and a chart we came up with that she could point at.”

  Abby remembered that chart. And the cards. “‘First date’ ... ‘The day you knew’ … ‘Romantic Getaway’ … ‘Proposal’ …” Abby recited the cards she could recall. “I never knew what they meant. I thought they were a part of some sort of therapy or something,” she said softly, looking up into his eyes. “So you came up with stories for all of that?”

 

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