by S. L. Scott
How could he walk away after that? He couldn’t, so he leaned against her, her back to the bar and kissed her temple, then the other. “My medical file is on my laptop. When you’re ready, you can look through it. I won’t keep any more secrets from you. I promise.”
“I love you.” She rested her head against him and listened to his heart.
As his arms wrapped around her, he said, “I love you more.”
Jude spent the afternoon sitting at the drafting table, clicking on his laptop between his medical file and the browser tab with the medical terms defined. When she closed it, she sighed heavily and looked out the window. “That’s heavy.”
“You’re telling me.”
When she glanced over to the couch, two books were stacked next to him, but remained unopened. She felt confident. “It’s not insurmountable though.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Getting up, she made her way over to him and sat square on his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and said, “That we live each day to the fullest.”
“Carpe diem.”
“Carpe diem.”
Taylor flipped her onto her back and began tickling her, loving to hear her laugh. Squirming beneath him, he stopped the pleasurable torture and giggles turned to moans when he started to kiss her. One moan led to more and they made love on the couch in the middle of the afternoon.
As the afternoon chased the evening, Jude paced the living room, internally debating. Hazel had asked her to sit down or talk to him, but she never heard him. The fear building inside her was overpowering any outside noise. At five o’clock, she announced. “I need to go. I need to deal with my family. If I leave now, I can be home for dinner. I’m in the mood for Chinese. Can we order delivery?”
“Of course,” he replied, watching her move around the kitchen searching for something he believed was a distraction to the issue. “I’m going with you.” Her stress had become his and stress gave him tremors. He tucked his hand in his pocket and walked into the bedroom.
When she joined him, she said, “No. I’m going alone. It will be better. If I can smooth things over, we’ll set up a dinner for all of us. If it doesn’t go as hoped, I don’t want you dragged into that mess or to witness it.”
“I’m already a part of this mess. You can’t protect me from them. They either approve or not, but I don’t actually give a fuck if they do. I just care about you.”
“That’s why it’s best if I break this to them alone. I’m going into a battle and I want to win without starting a war.”
She was good. Very good, and she made sense. So he sat on the bed and watched her style her hair, and as if on autopilot, she pinned it back and up. She never bothered with makeup while here, which he liked, but he knew she would feel better while wearing her armor for this confrontation. Instead, she walked out of the bathroom with what he identified as her bravest expression of indifference, and said, “I want the Honey Chicken and an eggroll.”
“Hey, Jude.” When she came and sat next to him, he handed her his phone. “Call the home number if you need me or need anything. It’s the most recent number, so it’s easy to find. We’ll get you one of your own tomorrow.”
She took the phone and smiled while looking at it. “Thank you.”
“I mean it. I want you to call me the second you leave. I can meet you.”
“No, just stay here and order the food. I want a night of good food, maybe a movie, and my handsome, extremely sexy husband all to myself.”
He conceded, realizing she wasn’t going to change her mind. “You got it.” He rubbed her thigh, then whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She kissed him and stood up.
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her back to his lap. “Call me.”
“The second I leave,” she responded with an easy smile, then kissed his head.
Jude left Hazel and his worried expression in the apartment. As soon as she closed the door, her fears escalated. She had no idea how her parents would react to the news of her marriage or if Isla had already told them. But she found some consolation in the fact she would be able to make her own decisions soon. Her marriage gave her strength and confidence, but more than that it gave her comfort knowing she would be emancipated from her stepfather soon.
Thirty minutes later, she stood on the large stoop in her prettiest dress with the phone tucked into her pocket. She tried to fix her hair, but it was a windy day, so flyaway hair was inevitable. She rang the bell, not something she had ever done before, but this place no longer felt like home to her. She stood as an outsider to the place she’d called home for years, and she liked that.
Roman answered, and her heart started beating again. He stepped out, closing the door a bit behind him. “Hummingbird, you’re back.” Happiness to see her had overcome him. He stepped forward to hug her, but stopped.
She knew he halted because he felt he should, not that he wanted to. She ignored that invisible line that seemed to separate the two of them, not caring what her family would think. She hugged him because she cared about him. “I missed you too.”
“Are you okay?”
“Better than okay.” She stepped back and showed him her hand with the rings.
“You’re married?” he asked stunned.
“I am. He’s wonderful, Roman. I’m going back to him tonight.”
Roman’s eyes got glassy and gave her the response she so deeply needed. “Who is the lucky man? Is it Taylor Barrett?”
His concern for her, his care over her made her want to tell him everything. “It is,” she replied surprised he knew. “How’d you know?”
“Nadia. She told me about him leaving that morning.”
“Oh God! Did she tell my parents?”
“No. Only the two of us know.”
Jude relaxed knowing she wouldn’t have to explain that as well. “Thank you.” Maybe Nadia wasn’t as bad as she once thought, or perhaps she was changing. Either way, she felt grateful. “Thank her for me.”
“I will. Now, you should probably go inside. Your parents are wrapping up their tea. Good luck, Hummingbird.”
She nodded. Whether she was ready to face them didn’t matter. It was going to happen whether she was or not. She followed Roman inside and walked to the wooden archway that led to the living room.
The tray of sandwiches and pastries, cookies, and biscuits was empty, only crumbs remaining. The teapot was discarded to the side, the warm brew now cold. The four of them—her mother, stepfather, aunt, and cousin—talked idly as if nothing had changed at all. It didn’t look like her mother had been crying for two weeks. The house of opulence they wanted everyone to see stood strong before her as if she had never disappeared. Jude’s loyalties had long been betrayed, so standing before them now, she felt nothing of the love that one should for her family.
Suddenly her aunt’s mouth dropped open when she saw her. “Judith?”
The other three followed in succession gawking at the girl in the lavender dress like she was an ugly duckling among swans. Isla smiled, but Jude struggled to distinguish where her alliances lay. Isla sat back in her chair, as if getting comfortable for the ensuing fireworks.
Aunt Leslie broke the silence. “Well. Well. Welllll.”
Jude’s feet moved back, the attention overbearing. Then her thumb felt the metal bands on her finger, which enabled her to gather strength. “I guess we should talk.”
Isla tutted and said, “You think?”
Guess she’s on their side. “Isla, I know you’re upset and I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry for anything that happened today.”
Her family turned to Isla. Jude’s stepfather asked her, “What is she talking about? You saw her and didn’t tell us?”
Standing up, Isla declared, “She’s here. Judith is back. That’s all that matters. That’s all that has ever mattered to you people.”
Isla’s mother stood. “Isla, shut your mouth.”
Isla’s arms went wide. “I c
an’t do this anymore. I’m tired of her getting everything. She’s crazy. You all said so yourselves. It’s always about Judith.”
Her mother went to her daughter and gritted her teeth. “Get hold of yourself, dear daughter, before you ruin everything.”
Jude stood there, flabbergasted. “Ruin what?”
Isla shook free from her mother and asked the same, “Yeah, ruin what exactly?”
Her aunt smiled, but it wasn’t authentic. “Nothing, Judith. Everything is fine. Isla’s not feeling well. That happens to spoiled brats when they don’t get everything they want.”
Isla didn’t calm down. She got more riled. “I don’t know what is going on with you, but Judith has something to tell you. Tell them, Judith.”
Jude didn’t have to. Aunt Leslie grabbed at her chest and stumbled back to the chair. Jude’s mother jumped up to help her. “Leslie, are you okay?”
Leslie pointed at Jude and Jude covered her mouth to avoid screaming. She had no idea what was happening, but she started fearing for her life. Her feet stayed in place as her eyes went wide. Isla stormed passed her, barely missing her shoulder.
The other three were staring at her in horror. Her stepfather said, “What have you done?”
Her mother burst into tears, lowering her head into her lap. Jude took a step back, and then another.
Her aunt growled, “What have you done, child?”
Jude had tried to prepare herself for any reaction they would have upon hearing the news of her marriage, but she hadn’t expected this. She felt like a lamb standing in a den of lions. She backed up again, but her stepfather rushed her, grabbing her, and shaking her as he yelled, “What did you do? Judith. Judith. What have you done?”
Tears streaked down her cheeks as her hair fell free around her face. “What?” she cried. “What are you talking about?”
He let her go with a devastating push and she fell. She had never seen her stepfather break down but that was what he was doing. He was covering his face in agony as he walked to the couch and sat down next to his sobbing wife. “Shut up, woman!” he shouted at her mother.
Confused, Jude continued to cry, and asked, “What is wrong?”
Her aunt glared with no feeling left to give. “You got married. We know what you’re doing, you manipulative little bitch.”
The rings were turned over deftly, the diamond sticking into her palm as she fisted her hand. “I did. I got married.” She found herself bartering the best part of her life—Hazel—for their forgiveness. “He’s wonderful and so good. So, so good. He’s—”
Leslie stood up again, her composure back in place. “How could you do this without asking us?”
“Because it had nothing to do with you.”
“You didn’t tell us, Judith, because you knew we would say no. Now you’ve gone and ruined your life on a whim and we are left to clean up your mess. As usual.” She turned to Jude’s stepfather and said, “Handle this.” She walked out with regained poise without looking twice at Jude.
“What is ruined? Nothing is ruined. I’m in love. He loves me. This is good. This is good for me. I’m happy.”
“Judith, go to your room.” Any affection he’d felt for the girl he’d help raise had disappeared years ago, but judging by his antipathy now, she wasn’t even worthy of his anger, much less his approval.
“Don’t you want to know who I marr—”
He stood, meaning business. “Go to your room. We need to talk. I’ll be with you shortly.”
Remaining where she was, she wondered if they would ever treat her as the adult she was. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either,” he added. Her mother still sobbed at his side.
Jude would go because she needed to resolve this tonight. Lowering her head, she turned and went to the foyer. She caught a glimpse of Roman and Nadia down the hall and their expression spoke of defeat, similar to how she felt. Taking the stairs one at a time, she retraced her tracks, each step representing another time she had disappointed her family.
When Ryan died, her saving grace died with him. Until she met a hazel-eyed man who made her breath stop short while she basked in the glow of his kindness and beauty. She stuck her hand in her pocket and her fingers settled around his phone. She wanted to call him. But when she walked into her room, she decided it was best if she didn’t. There was no need to upset him needlessly. I’ll be quick and get out of here even faster.
Setting the phone on her vanity next to the photo of her brother, she went to her closet and grabbed a suitcase. This would no longer be her life. She refused to remain in this room any longer. It was time. Time to pack up her life from and leave this pink-walled prison. Opening it on the floor, she started gathering her clothes.
She had filled the suitcase, but the rest of her stuff didn’t matter. There wasn’t much she wanted from this room, this house, this life. Not much she wanted to take into her new life really. After tucking the photo of her brother between some clothes, she shut the suitcase and stood it up, placing it by the door.
Going back for the phone, the door opened and she looked back, stilling.
Her mother stood there, her face red and her eyes swollen, making her blue eyes even icier. She quietly closed the door behind her, seeming to question the act. This was not the composed woman she knew her mother to be. This version of her mother’s voice shook like her trembling body. “I love you, Judith. Remember that. Okay?” Jude didn’t reply. Instead she stared at her mother, watching her like one would watch a caged tiger. “I didn’t want to do it, but I understood the need. I’m a victim like you. Blackmailed into sacrifice.”
“What are you talking about?” Jude spoke with strength, but her knees felt weak. “Mother?”
Her hands twisted round and round each other and Jude was mesmerized by the action. Her mother started mumbling, “I tried to talk some sense into them. I tried to stop this. But you don’t understand. They’re very convincing. I’d lost my son already. They promised I would get to keep you…”
Jude’s brow grew heavy as her fate dawned on her. Spinning around, she went for the phone—her saving grace in the moment.
The door burst open, slamming against the wall and puncturing the plaster. Just as she picked up the phone, two men grabbed her. It fell to the floor as she was thrown to the bed. Facedown, she turned to the side gasping for air. Trading her fate for her destiny, she begged, “No. No. No. Please. I’m married now.”
The needle went in while she fought and screamed against the tight hold on her arms and legs. When released, she immediately rolled onto her back. “Why?” she cried, pushing against the mattress to move her body toward the headboard. How? How do they get here so fast? It should take hours.
Tears streamed over her temples and into her hair, but she lay there, knowing there was no point in fighting the drug. She wouldn’t make it to the door before collapsing. She wouldn’t even make it off the mattress. She knew this part too well. Her soul started to detach itself from her body and she began floating.
The men left and her aunt appeared, standing over her, staring down at her. “Just one more visit and we’ll have all we need. Then you can kill yourself and succeed at one thing in life.”
Paralyzed in place, her mind began obscuring the details. Jude whispered, “He’ll come for me. You’ll see.”
“Who, dear?” she asked, leaning over her.
“Hazel…”
TAYLOR SAT AT his drafting table, but was unable to focus on the project in front of him. He looked at his watch for what felt like the millionth time. It was after seven, the sun had set and he still hadn’t heard from Jude. Finally. A knock on the door sent him to his feet, rushing to open it.
When he saw the food delivery guy, logic returned reluctantly. Jude wouldn’t knock. She’d come in. He paid the guy and took the food to the kitchen to unpack it. He struggled to care about dinner with his mind on his wife. He picked up his home phone to call her. He should have gotten her a phone
number long before now. Before it started ringing, he hung up. He reasoned. She said she’d call, so she’ll call.
By nine o’clock, he stood at the window staring down, not focusing on anything in particular except where his Jude was. He finally gave in and called. It went to voicemail after four rings, so he hung up and grabbed his jacket. Within minutes he was in a cab heading to the Boehler’s.
The lack of plan didn’t hit him until he was paying the driver. He should have thought this through better, but what if they were happy, accepting, celebrating even? What if they’ve caused her to cry, caused Jude pain? He didn’t know what he was walking into but as he stood on the sidewalk in front of the Boehler’s brownstone, the unease that had been smoldering inside him grew.
From the sidewalk there was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to see. The lights were on, but there were no shadows, nor silhouettes, no life to be spied at all.
He trudged up the stairs, rejoining his heart that had already leaped. There was nothing that would keep him away at this stage, but he still had no idea what to expect. Expecting the worst and hoping for the best gave too much credit to how he felt. He was anxious and irritated, his breathing slightly labored as he tried to calm his growing distress.
Knocking on the door, he was solid, composed, but ready to see Jude, hoping he had misread the confusing signs that led to this moment. The housekeeper who caught him that one morning as he snuck out answered. There was no greeting and her expression fell as she grabbed hold of the door, appearing to need the support. Taylor said, “I’m here for Jude.”
“She’s not here, Mr. Barrett.”
“Where is she?”
She looked down and away from him. “I should get Mr. Boehler.”
“Why?” he asked, as she walked away leaving the door wide open. Taylor entered and shut the door. He didn’t wait in the foyer. He ran up the stairs taking them by two and straight into Jude’s room. His feet came to a sudden halt and panic seized him as he took in the scene—suitcase by the door, hole in the wall, phone on the floor. “Jude?” It only took him seconds to piece together what had happened.