by A. M. Arthur
Never in my life had I been so close to putting my hands on another human being in anger—especially not one I loved and trusted. Used to trust. Now I wasn’t so sure, and I grabbed the counter with both hands to stay still. “Protecting me from what this time?”
He flinched. “When the auction sale of the land fell through, I worried about your income. Yes, you had a decent savings from the rest of the auction, and I was selling a few pieces of your work here and there, but it wasn’t a stable income. I held onto the money in case you had an emergency and needed it.”
“If I’d had an emergency I could have asked you for a loan. That does not excuse lying to me for the last seven months. I need to be able to trust you, Jeremy. Don’t you understand that?”
“I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” He tried circling the island, but I moved too, keeping it between us. The flash of hurt in his eyes only fueled my fury. He didn’t get to be hurt right now, because he’d caused this problem all by himself. He’d said he would use my money and he hadn’t. He’d lied. Full stop. “You can trust me.”
“Can I?” I coated my next two words in all the bitterness squeezing my chest like an iron band. “Seven. Months.”
Genuine grief draped over him like a dense fog, every muscle in his body seeming to wilt all at once. “Tell me how to fix this. I’ll do anything.”
“I don’t know how you fix this. I really don’t. We’ve had this conversation about you protecting me more than once. Fuck, we just had it last night. You should have confessed last night that you’d kept the money and not used it. Maybe that would have helped keep some of my trust intact, but you didn’t. Would you have ever told me?”
“I don’t know, and that’s the god’s honest truth, Cole. I want to say yes, I’d have eventually told you I kept the money in case of emergency. But then the land sale went through, the adoption happened, and it stopped feeling important. I thought about telling you when you started sending the money electronically, but then life got hectic and I figured I’d just…start using it like I said was going to.” His eyes glimmered with tears, and I fought off the instinct to comfort him. He’d caused this pain himself, not me. “I didn’t mean it as a lie, and I will always regret breaking your trust.”
“Me too.” My anger was slowly shifting into a kind of grief that made it hard to breathe. “You were supposed to be my safe place, Jeremy. The one person I could always count on.”
“You can count on me.”
“Not right now I can’t.”
His whole body flinched, and a single tear slid down his left cheek. I tracked that tear to where it disappeared into the collar of his t-shirt. “We can come back from this,” he said. “We can. I promise I don’t have any other secrets. There is nothing else that I’m keeping from you.”
My instinct to bring back my strong, stoic Jeremy with reassurances that we could fix this raged an internal battle against my deep-seated sense of betrayal. Maybe I was overreacting, but I was also too exhausted and frustrated to care. “I can’t be here right now.”
“What?”
I spun and stalked toward the small table near the stairs where we kept our keys. My cell and wallet were already in my back pockets. I sensed Jeremy behind me before he said, “Please don’t leave.”
“Do not touch me and do not follow me. I need space. Give me space.”
“You’re coming back, though, right?”
I didn’t answer, choosing instead to leave before I said something I might regret. Did something I might regret. He didn’t follow me downstairs, for which I was grateful. I didn’t have anywhere to go, not really. No friends to vent to, no other safe space in which to release my frustration and emotional agony.
I got in the car and drove anyway, mindless of my route until I was on a familiar country road out of town. The kind of rural road that was just blacktop with no painted lines or specified lanes. To a familiar driveway and a familiar old mailbox. I didn’t see a No Trespassing sign, so I turned onto it. Drove down a dirt driveway more rutted than I remembered. Instead of waist-high wild grass, the land was cut and tended.
In the distance came an unfamiliar sight: a brand-new structure where the house had once stood, as well as large, half-circles of some kind in measured rows behind the house. It was a tiny home painted a cheerful yellow with white trim, and it had a deck out front with two folding chairs and a little table. Cozy setup. The half-circles reminded me of greenhouses. I’d never asked what the buyer wanted the land for because I hadn’t cared. Now I was curious.
The home’s door swung open, and a woman roughly my age stepped out onto the porch. She wore a white t-shirt beneath a pair of denim overalls, and fiery red hair had been bundled up into a messy bun on the top of her head. “Can I help you?” she shouted.
I turned off the car and climbed out, hoping to appear unthreatening. “I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am. I, um, used to own this property, and I’m honestly not really sure why I came here today.”
“You’re Mr. Alston?” She smiled and came down three small steps to the yard. “Hi there. I’m Samantha Baker. I wasn’t under the impression you cared to meet with me.”
“I wasn’t. Sorry, Cole Alston.” I shook her offered hand. “I don’t honestly have any truly good memories of living here. Maybe part of me wanted to know that something good was being created over the ashes of so much bad.”
“I can understand that. My agent told me the history of the property, and I’m so sorry for what you went through.”
“Thanks.” Her open demeanor fed my courage. “So what are you building?”
“Sustainable hydroponic greenhouses for produce, herbs and flowers.” Samantha brightened right up as she told me about her plans for eventually setting up a produce stand, and hopefully expanding some of the technology she was testing for a friend’s development company. Everything about it sounded amazing and positive.
“Are you doing all this alone?” I asked. “It seems like a big project.”
“No, my partner is out getting supplies. We’re trying to do as much of the building as we can on our own, but we’ve hired contractors for some of it, too. Trying to do everything as environmentally friendly as we can.”
“That makes sense.”
“It’s our passion project. Did you want a glass of sweet tea or water? We can sit and talk for a few minutes. You looked kind of spooked when you first drove up.”
“I don’t want to interrupt your day.”
She laughed. “I was working on another business proposal to try and entice new investors. Please, interrupt for a little while.” Samantha was being incredibly friendly to a perfect stranger, but for all I knew she had a black belt in karate and could easily defend herself.
“Okay, tea would be amazing.” I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until she mentioned it, and I followed her onto the simple wood deck. She went inside for the tea, and even though I’d never seen the interior of a tiny house before, I didn’t dare peek inside like a creeper. She was out in the country and might keep a shotgun by the door.
I waited for her to come back with two glasses of iced sweet tea and sit before I took the other chair. You never know if folks have a preferred spot to sit. “You must get great views of the sunrise from here,” I said.
“On the rare occasion I’m up to see them, we do. Not much of a morning person, but starting up a business sometimes requires long hours.”
“I know. My boyfriend runs the antique store in town, and he’s crazy busy most days.” The words came out from habit, and all my old anger returned with them—along with a tiny dose of fear over so bluntly outing myself to a stranger.
Something must have bled out on my face, because Samantha said, “Uh oh. Did you guys have a fight or something?”
“Yes.” It had been a very one-sided fight, but still. “He did something that broke my trust in a big way, and trust is insanely important to me. I had to get out of the house before I said or did something I’d regret later.”
“Did he apologize?”
“More than once.”
“Do you believe he’s sorry?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you can forgive him?”
“I don’t know.” I ached inside for Jeremy’s misery, but I also ached for my own. “He lied about something for months. It wasn’t something that could physically harm me in any way, and he’s a genuinely kind man. I just never thought he’d lie about this.”
“Sometimes people tell lies of omission to protect the people we love.”
I snorted then sipped the tea. Perfectly sweet. “That’s exactly what he said he was doing. Trying to protect me. But damn it, we just had this conversation last night, about him trusting me to know my own mental health and what I can handle. I need a partner, not a parent, and I can’t believe I’m unloading on a perfect stranger like this.”
“I don’t mind. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
“Well, I appreciate it. I’m a huge introvert and don’t really have any other friends in town to talk to. Not without my personal business becoming new juicy gossip.”
“I bet. I’ve lived in and around small towns my whole life, so I know gossip. And I don’t spread it.” She held out her glass, and I clinked the lip of mine to hers.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Do you feel any better about things after venting?”
“I don’t know. He swore up and down there were no more secrets, nothing he was hiding, and I believe him. This was just too big to forgive in an hour. I needed to be mad.”
“Understandable. My first girlfriend pulled some pretty heinous shit on me back in college, and it took me years after our breakup to forgive her. Not that you’re breaking up with your guy or anything.”
“People who hurt us don’t always deserve our forgiveness.” I’d made peace with Martin and accepted his apology, but I’d never forgive him for the things he did to me.
“True. It’s up to us to decide what we can and cannot forgive.” Samantha tilted her head, pale eyes that might have been green studying me. “You’ve been betrayed before.”
I nodded. “Betrayed and seriously injured. It was years ago, and I’m perfectly safe with Jeremy, I just…betrayal is something that sticks with you.” And it had stuck, like gum on a dirty shoe, from my childhood and into my relationship with Martin. It came with me these last three years as I went from just trying to survive, to happily in love and with a daughter. It had always been there, a poltergeist eating away at my sanity.
Making me think my ability to trust was as flimsy as a toothpick, when it was as strong as a steel beam. Jeremy’s love, understanding and patience had reinforced that steel beam, and it hadn’t crumbled today. It hadn’t snapped into unfixable shards. It had taken a beating, sure, but it hadn’t broken. Jeremy and I weren’t broken.
I had to stop letting what my parents and Martin did control my life. I wouldn’t let Martin take Jeremy away from me, too.
“I swear,” Samantha said, “I just saw a cartoon light bulb appear over your head. Did you have an epiphany?”
“I think so. It isn’t Jeremy I’m truly mad at. Not really.”
“Good to know. I’m glad I could help you sort this out.”
“Me too. Thank you, Samantha.”
“Call me Sammie.”
We chatted amiably for a while longer. I told her more about Jeremy’s store and showed off pictures of Annabeth. An approaching engine stole our attentions to the driveway, and soon a big Ford pickup rumbled to a stop near the house. The size of the truck matched the size of the burly man who climbed out. Every inch of bare skin on his arms and hands was covered in tattoos, and he had a perfectly shaved head with more tattoos. He also had a big, toothy grin that set me at ease when the size of him made me want to cower.
I glanced at Sammie, curious about the college girlfriend thing, and she winked. Then mouthed, “Bisexual.” I nodded and smiled. She introduced me to Andy Buchner, who was both her business and romantic partner. I’d always heard you shouldn’t go into business with a spouse or romantic partner, but it wasn’t any of my business.
“Cole’s an in-town neighbor who stopped by to chat,” she said. “His boyfriend owns the antique store we keep meaning to check out.”
“Please do stop in,” I added. “I’ll make sure you get a discount on your first purchase.”
“Cool. You and Jeremy should totally come over for dinner some night. The house is a bit cramped for four, but we can always eat outside if the weather is good. And I’d love to meet your daughter.”
“Daughter?” That got Andy’s direct attention so I showed him pictures. “She’s precious. You three should totally come over.”
Sammie put my cell number in her phone and I added hers to mine. “Awesome. I’ll text you later in the week.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “I should probably get going.” I accepted a firm handshake from Andy before he headed to the pickup to unload whatever supplies he’d purchased for their project.
Sammie gave me a quick hug. “Let me know how things work out, okay?”
“I will. Thanks again for listening.”
“Anytime. New friend.”
I laughed. “Thanks. New friend.”
Time to go home and talk—really, truly talk—to my boyfriend.
10
JEREMY
The instant Cole dropped those envelopes on the island, I had a flash of him doing exactly what he’d done: walk out the door. It had been a brief flash, followed by a long, slithering dread that coiled around every part of my body. I had no excuse, only the truth, and Cole had been right. I should have told him about the money last night.
For all the times I’d seen Cole upset, I had never seen such an all-consuming anger from him, and it was directed entirely at me. The force of it made me want to vomit and cry all at once, and it had taken every last ounce of my self-control to let him leave. To not drop directly to my knees and beg.
Half of my heart had walked out that door, and if he didn’t come back, I’d lose that half forever.
I was so turned around that I left my shopping trip all over the counters—except the cold stuff, which I’d put away before Cole arrived—and paced the living room. Replayed the conversation in my head over and over, but there wasn’t anything I could have done differently. Cole was furious because I’d broken his trust in a huge way and not just once. Every single time I took that envelope of cash from him with no intention of using it.
How can I make it up to him? Can I make it up to him? Will he ever trust me again?
Annabeth’s cries drew me upstairs to correct a wet diaper. It had been a while since she’d taken a bottle, so I brought her down to the kitchen to prepare one in the warmer. Instead of putting her in her seat, I held her while it warmed, needing a physical connection to someone I loved. More than ever in the two months since Bethann left town, I needed to talk to my best friend. I seriously contemplated calling her, despite her request that she reach out first, because I was going out of my mind.
Was Cole okay? Where had he gone? Worst case scenarios of car accidents and injury buzzed through my mind like angry hornets and I couldn’t dislodge them. They stung over and over, leaving me upset and scared.
Meredith called about a deeper discount on an item we’d had in the shop for a long time, and I somehow got through the conversation in a coherent manner, okaying the discount. Whatever. The shop didn’t matter right now, not when my heart was bruised and bloodied in my chest, and I’d done all the damage myself.
Annabeth took her bottle with no fuss, and I sat in her favorite armchair while she cooed and played with my fingers. “Where’s your other dad, baby girl? I need him to come home so I can find a way to fix this. Fix us.”
Please, let me be able to fix us.
Two agonizing hours passed before the downstairs door opened and shut. Couldn’t be the door to the shop, because Meredith didn’t have a key to that door.
I wanted to be hopeful about this, but I was still too fucking scared I’d lost Cole.
He ascended the stairs slowly, each gentle creak of wood announcing his approach, until he finally entered the kitchen. I hadn’t moved from the armchair, rooted in place by fear. The dark cloud he’d fled with was gone, replaced by an odd kind of peace I didn’t recognize. He wasn’t smiling, but he also wasn’t staring at me like I’d just sacrificed a puppy to Satan.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.” I nearly squeaked those two small letters. “You came back.”
“I did. I don’t hate you, Jeremy, I just needed space to think. And vent.”
“Who’d you vent to?”
He approached, stopping by the back of the couch, hands clasped loosely in front of him. So calm while my heart was galloping away like a spooked horse. “I ended up at my old place, and I met the people who bought it. They’re building hydroponic greenhouses on the land. Doing some good with it. I talked to a lady named Sammie for a while, not in any great detail, but the broad strokes of our fight. My sense of betrayal.”
I swallowed the need to apologize again, because Cole was still calm, his tone perfectly conversational, which confounded me a bit.
“Talking to a near-stranger also helped put something into perspective for me,” he continued. “I was allowing the ways my parents and Martin betrayed me to color my perspective of the present. I let those old hurts fuel today’s anger, and that isn’t fair to you. Since the day we met, you have been nothing but kind and patient and supportive. Even when we were just business associates who also fucked, I felt safe with you. Protected by you. You have never intentionally ignored me, scared me, or physically retaliated against me. You’ve never screamed at me, belittled me, or forced me sexually.”
I suppressed a growl over the stark way he listed the things done to him by his parents, but mostly by the ex-asshole. All the pain Cole still hadn’t told me about because there was just so much of it. Maybe more than he’d ever say out loud, and that was okay. I knew enough. “I’m so sorry for all the ways you’ve ever been hurt,” I said. “I wish I could take even a fraction of that pain away and carry it myself.”