by Ruby Vincent
“Power play,” he said. “Her fiancé prefers you and everyone’s got a peek into their fictional sex life. She had to prove she was still queen bee. You couldn’t have given her that one?”
“Nope.” I put my spoon up. We clinked and dug in. “Her fiancé is safe in her hands. I’m not trying to steal him, so why should I take crap for it?”
“Fair point.”
I observed him over our treat. Nathan was picture-ready as always. He wore a tight Henley shirt and black pants. His hair hung free and wild in a style he wanted people to believe was effortless, but actually took about an hour. That he had time to do it backed up his claim that he was sober. But like the rest of the mortals, something could be wrong with him even when he wasn’t drinking.
“You okay?”
He tapped his temple. “Headache.”
“Nathan, seriously,” I said softly. “It’s me.”
“It’s nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary anyway. I called Mom. She didn’t know who I was. She hung up saying she had to get up early for work.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Nathan didn’t sound mad. He didn’t sound like much of any emotion at all. “This isn’t the bad part, Belle. The bad part is when she can’t talk. Can’t swallow. When she needs help walking until she can’t walk at all.” A tremble leaked into his voice. “That’s the bad part. There are still days when she comes back. Worry about me when they’re gone.”
The ice cream was sludge on my tongue. Eyes prickling, I threw my spoon. “Alzheimer’s is such an evil fucking disease.”
“The truest thing you’ve ever said.”
“But I won’t wait,” I whispered.
“Wait for what?”
Green locked with brown. “To worry about you.”
His face changed. Dropping the shield, the raw, open wound exposed to the light. And I cried. Gentle, quiet tears running down my cheek.
“Why do you do this to me, Belle?”
I looked at him, questioning.
“Make me love you.”
My breath hitched. “I— Just a bad habit I guess.”
Nathan grinned. Then he smiled. And then he laughed. Unrestrained, loud belly laughs that pulled giggles out of me. “We all have our addictions,” he got out. “Can’t fault you for yours.” He brushed his fingers over my cheeks, drying my tears. At that moment, I made up my mind.
“Nathan, can I talk to you about something?”
“Sure.”
“Your inheritances,” I began. “Why do you have to wait until you’re twenty-five? You turned eighteen months ago. Is this something you could fight if you had money? Lawyers?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing to fight. It was in their will. My grandma willed her shares to me when I turn twenty-five. My dad’s estate and his part of the family business comes to me when I’m thirty. Until then, I have a long-lost uncle in Antigua looking after it.
“They both witnessed what money does to people. And what does an eighteen-year-old know of running a multimillion-dollar company? They put the responsibility on my shoulders when they thought I’d be old enough to handle it.”
“So there’s nothing,” I pressed. “Not even a college fund?”
“Of course there is. But it’s not in my name. It’s in Mom’s. Neither one factored early-onset Alzheimer’s in their plans for me.”
“No, they wouldn’t.” I massaged suddenly aching temples. “He took it. The colonel claimed it all.”
“That’s right. The universe struck down so many people in my life and left him standing. Hard not to feel like someone out there hates me.”
“I know that feeling.” I placed my hand over his. “But it’s not too late for it to pay out the karma points you’ve stacked up.”
“Think so?”
Nodding, I released a long breath. “What if... we got married, Nathan?”
He stopped tracing small circles on my palm. “Excuse me?”
“You said you’d marry the girl who understood your situation and was willing to do what was necessary to give you and your mom a new life.” I leaned in. “I’m willing, Nathan. I want to. I can’t stand the thought of your mom trapped in that house with him.”
“Belle—”
“The good days she has left should be spent with you. In a place that makes her happy and with people who make her happy—”
“Belle—”
“You and I can keep it platonic. And when you get your inheritance, we’ll split up—”
“No.”
I ground to a halt, hearing the edge to his voice, and finally seeing it. Nathan was pissed... at me. “No? Why?”
“Why? You have to ask?” He shoved away from the island. “You don’t want to get married, Belle! Least of all to me. You think I cheated on you.”
Stiffening, I said, “You did.”
“See?” He pointed. “There it is. The barely concealed rage. You can’t stand me most days, Belle. If we got married, we’d kill each other.”
“It’s not about us. It’s about—”
“My mom,” he finished. Nathan let out a wild laugh that edged me back. “It’s about pity. Think I’m some pathetic little orphan that needs you to save me.”
“Where the hell are you getting this from?!” I was on my feet yelling before I knew it. “It’s not pity, you great, thumping jackass! It’s caring! About you and your mom. It’s wanting you both to be happy. This is what you said you wanted!”
“Not from you!”
The roar blew me back.
“I loved you! You were this amazing bright light that shot into my life. When I was with you, my dad wasn’t dead. My grandma wasn’t gone. The light didn’t go out behind my mom’s eyes taking me and our whole lives with it. You made the idea of a perfect life real to me. Loving you. Having a family. A future. That was what you did to me. Made me believe in the impossible.”
My lips parted but nothing came out.
“You made me so fucking happy, I kept you a secret. Because I knew somehow, some way, you’d be taken from me.”
The lump in my throat strangled me. I gasped, fighting for a breath, fighting for a word to make this stop before we couldn’t go back.
“Our breakup wrecked me, Belle. I lost more than you when I left that summer.” He erased the distance between us. “You can’t come back after two years and pick me out of the puddle like a lost shivering puppy. Give me everything I wanted from us and tell me it won’t be real. That I’ll be forced to watch you walk out of my life again after our arrangement is done. Asking me to marry you isn’t a save, Belle.”
Nathan backed away, eyes hardening. “It’s the cruelest thing you’ve ever done.”
I reeled like he slapped me. I couldn’t make a sound as he went into the fridge and emerged with a bottle of chocolate sauce.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got someone waiting upstairs.” He blew past me.
“Good night, Belle.”
Chapter Eight
“What do you want from a partner?”
“Trust.”
“Respect.”
“Love.”
Mrs. Evanston nodded along to the shouted replies. “Good, everyone. Now let’s dig in. What is trust, respect, and love? What does it look like?”
“It looks like never forgetting your anniversary,” Nora piped up. “Twenty-two years and my dad goes big every year. On their twentieth, he recreated their honeymoon.”
“Wonderful, Nora.”
The living room was fit to burst with guys and girls brought together for that morning’s discussion session. The couches, armchairs, and chaises were angled to put Mrs. Evanston in the center. The only one outside of the circle was me.
I sat at the back of the room, posted on the bay window. Heavy shades laid a dark tint on my world. An unfortunate necessity since an entire night of crying into my pillow left my eyes swollen and pink.
I thought Nathan was finished making me do that. But then I h
ad to ask myself if I deserved it. I hadn’t really considered him when I made the offer. I mean, of course I thought of him as the son dying to rescue his mother. But not as the ex-lover recovering from a breakup that left no survivors.
How it must feel for a person you once loved to see you as an object of pity.
But I don’t. I never did. It’s not about how I see Nathan. It’s how I see Vanessa.
As me.
I dropped my head, staring at the deceptively beautiful day.
If Vanessa Prince for all her fighting and strength can’t escape her shadow, then what hope did I have? How long before I ended up right where he wanted me?
My mind served up no answers from me. Silence from my voice of reason. Nothing but sand whirling in the wind and flitting dragonflies in my line of sight.
I bled for her situation. Understood better than most people would. As true as that was, Nathan didn’t want me for a fairy godmother. Did I try to salvage whatever we had left, or should I just let him be?
Something moved behind a copse of coconut trees. I straightened and squinted through the window.
There.
The figure bobbed and a hat poked over the bush. Out stepped a gardener. He tramped over the mulch bed, carrying on with his weeding.
I flopped against the cushion. With the nightmares running through my head all night and morning, it was no wonder I was jumping at shadows.
I wasn’t at school and Hendrix confirmed my time was my own. Despite my father’s threats, one day skipping activities wouldn’t kill me. Make that three days of peace since we were finally butting up against the weekend.
“—discussion, everyone. We’ll meet again next Tuesday,” said Mrs. Evanston. “Belle? Would you give me a few minutes?”
I looked up. Mrs. Evanston was moving through the couches, coming for me.
“I’d like to speak to you.”
I cast about for an excuse. “Can’t. I’ve got to get ready for the field trip.”
“I let the others go fifteen minutes early so we’d have time.”
Checking my phone, I confirmed the time. Crap.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“May I sit?”
I pulled up my feet, giving her room.
Mrs. Evanston had a sweet face to go along with her sweet, soft voice. She sported a small afro peppered with butterfly clips, and her bohemian style matched mine for the day. We both wore loose dresses and kimonos.
“I’ve noticed you don’t say much during these sessions,” she began. “That’s okay. These topics can be difficult to discuss in a group. I wanted to give you the opportunity to talk one-on-one.”
“The reason I don’t share is because the topic is marriage. I’m not interested in getting married, Miss E. When I have my way, this summer will be a speed bump in my rearview.”
To my surprise, she smiled. “I see. You’re here to have fun with your friends. No worries. You’re not the first. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t hurt to expand the conversation. Talk about where you all are in your lives.” She patted my knee. “See you Monday, Belle.”
I blinked. That was it?
Apparently it was, because Evanston was turning away and heading for the door.
“My parents forced me to come here,” I blurted. “I’m not here for friends, fun, or sunbathing on the beach. I’m here because they said if I didn’t come, they’d take everything from me.”
Slowly, she faced me.
“You’re the one with years of study into human behavior. Help me understand how two people who’ve been there for you your whole life, would make you choose between two miserable futures?”
Evanston reclaimed her seat. “What was their explanation?”
“That they’re doing what’s best for me and one day I’d see that.” I dropped my gaze to the tight fists on my lap. “But they’re wrong. For me and— and whoever I married,” I forced out. “I’d be subjecting them to a life of misery too. No one deserves that.”
“Why do you feel it would be misery? There are people who have arranged marriages and find companionship with their partner. Even love.”
“It would be misery because he would make it so.”
“He?”
I went on like she hadn’t spoken. “We’ve lived under his shadow for years. Running. Hiding. Trying and failing to stay one step ahead. That won’t stop after I’m married. If anything, he will... will...” I drew my kimono tighter around me.
She placed her hand over the nails cutting my forearm. “What will he do, Belle?”
“He’ll take it away,” I finished. “Like he’s taken everything.”
“Belle, if someone in your life is threatening you, then I want you to know I am here and will help you in any way I can. But what I wish to say first is love, trust, and respect is what you deserve. He has no right to take it from you. More than that, he has no right to stand in its way.”
She squeezed my hand. “All of us are fallen angels born searching for our wings. How we find them is our own journey to take. But they are out there. They may be on a little pocket of sand, surf, and sunbathing. You may find them in the fulfillment of a lifetime goal.” Evanston tapped my shoulder. “Or they may have been on your back the entire time. You just had to look.”
Removing my shades, I wiped my tired eyes. “That was good,” I muttered. “All those years of human behavior study makes a person insightful.”
“I should hope so,” she replied, smiling. “Or I’m in the wrong profession.”
“I was planning on blowing today off anyway. What do you have for ex-best friends who both hate and want to marry you? Also, ex-boyfriends who hate you for asking to marry them?”
“Wow.” Leaning back, she crossed one leg over the other. “Good thing we both have nowhere to be.”
MONDAY BROUGHT THE final touches on our event, lady lessons with Mrs. Desai (Delilah was seated on the opposite end of the table from me), and another trip into town. We formed a single-file line marching into the shuttle.
Mrs. Evanston and I had a long talk that carried past lunch. I didn’t tell her my entire history with Mal, but the CliffsNotes were enough to give her the gist. Her advice was much that I had heard before. Methods that we tried and had failed us repeatedly.
I didn’t fault her for that. Mal was a beast restraining orders, cops, security systems, and self-defense training just weren’t equipped to handle.
Our chat about Nathan and Carter ran longer. That was a mess one conversation wasn’t about to sort out. I thought about what I’d say to Nathan all weekend. Sitting on the balcony sensing him inside and hearing the last thing he said to me on repeat. We had to talk.
I walked by Nathan on my way to the back row. Our eyes met, and ping-ponged off each other.
Or maybe we didn’t have to talk.
We had two years of silence and life returned to its standard normal. Since we reentered each other’s orbit, we’ve fought, hooked up, talked, and fought again. Getting sucked into this cycle and believing it would turn out different this time was the definition of insanity. Silence was best for everyone.
I plopped down next to Zion.
“Hey,” he said. “Didn’t see you around much this weekend.”
“I was taking a break. Made a few trips into town to clear my head. You?”
“The same we’ve been doing all week.”
“Are we boring you, Mitchell?” Carter sat down in the seat next to me. “Can’t tap out this soon. You’re in for the whole summer.”
“Go, Carter.”
“Can’t,” he replied. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“You’re wearing boring jeans and a whole T-shirt. That’s your something-is-wrong outfit.”
He remembers that?
“Why do you care?” I asked.
“I care about you.”
My jaw clenched. “Get to the punch line, Knight. I care about you as a fiancé. I care about
you perking up for the marriage announcement. Which is it?”
“None of the above, Belle. I just care about you.”
“Good morning, everyone.” Mrs. Desai saved me thinking of a response. “Today is a special treat. We’ll be visiting the Citrine Children’s Home and lending a hand. Some of you will make lunch with the kids. Others will complete tasks assigned to us by the home workers. I cleared our entire schedule today to have this time volunteering with the children.”
A guy two rows ahead of me raised his hand. “Why?”
Why? Because you just asked that question.
“Philanthropy and civic responsibility are important values in the community, Mr. Grey. What’s more, penny-pinching, uncharitable apathetic is not a good look on anyone.”
I shared an incredulous look with Zion as Grey mumbled something. I was not expecting that reply. My opinion of Mrs. Desai rose about twelve dozen notches.
No one else had questions for her. The bus rumbled to life, carrying us off the property.
Zion and I fell into conversation as the orange trees whipped by.
“I’d like to be on cooking,” he said. “I learned a few things from my chef. I’m not half bad.”
“If we’re cooking with the kids, it’ll be something simple like pizza. I used to cook with my chef too. She’d let me lick the spoon and snuck me cookies after bedtime. I’ve had like five cavities.”
Zion laughed.
“Your teeth are perfect now.” Carter grinned, showing off teeth that truly were perfect. “Beautiful.”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“You know what,” I snapped. “You can’t even begin to comprehend how not in the mood I am for your games.”
He cocked a brow. “One second you’re saying you want to be friends again, and then you’re snapping at me for being nice.”
“Damn right.”
Laughing, Carter put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. My lips are sealed. No more mentioning your gorgeous smile. Or that you look amazing even out of your regular clothes. And I won’t say I missed seeing you around this weekend.”
The compliments pouring from those wickedly molded lips set off a flutter in my chest. I stomped it down hard. Beware of pretty boys spouting even prettier lies.