Wilde Brothers

by Bella Court

"What goes around comes around, John. One day you're going to wake up, and you're not going to recognize the monster you've become and the monster you've made of the people around you."

  Herself, included.

  Taking one last lingering look at his bloody nose and how pathetic he looked on the ground with his fingers clutched to his face, she gracefully stepped over him in her stilettos and continued out the door.

  She didn't look back once, and it took all her willpower not to stop and turn around when Connor called her name.

  Chapter Nine

  The church looked exactly the same. Panes of stained glass cast brilliant colored shadows across the marble floor of St. Gregory's. It was the amazing architecture that made her fall in love with the church in the first place. Classic pillars lined the length of the church, and at the very front sat a glorious mural painted in fresco.

  She hadn't been back here since that day. She hadn't even stepped foot in a Church since that day. The quiet, contemplative atmosphere of the Church soothed her tumultuous insides for a second, but the waves of raw emotion were back in an instant.

  It was three in the afternoon, so there weren't many people in the church. Just a few people dispersed throughout the pews, kneeling and praying for salvation, hope, and forgiveness.

  It was all three that brought Kristen back to the place. This was the church where she and John were originally to be married. She left Wilde Towers in an absolute haze. As soon as she left the office, she ignored a flabbergasted Jade, who babbled about hearing the yelling coming from Connor's office.

  Reece tried to stop her, but she shoved past him. It wasn't until she reached the glass elevators that she let herself collapse to the floor. Yet she still didn't cry.

  She had pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her head in her knees, willing herself not to cry until the moment was right. It was so hard, but she did it. No harder than the first time it happened. No harder than the times after that.

  She learned to swallow her tears, until there was a dam nearly bursting inside of her. When she finally came to the first floor, her legs trembled, as she pulled herself to her feet. She had no idea what she looked like, but she was sure she must have looked terrible, when people came up to her to ask if she needed a medic.

  She flippantly shook her head and left the building. For what felt like hours, she wandered around the city, her fingers brushing the brick of every building. She'd tap the parking meters, she'd cross the street with the New York crowd. Anything mindless to keep herself from hurting.

  Then, it started to rain. Fat drops of rain that soaked through her thin sweater and clung to her skin, chilling her to the bone. Looking morosely at the gray sky, a pang went through her. His eyes were the color of the sky right now. Stormy, swirling gray clouds mixed with a darkening sky.

  She was soaked, and it was only getting worse. Sheets of rain were coming down now, and her mind barely registered that maybe she should seek shelter.

  She stopped in front of a building, and she almost laughed out loud. It was St. Gregory's. The irony of it all. Everything came full circle. Wordlessly, she entered the church.

  Robotically, she dipped two of her fingers into the basin of Holy Water and made the sign of the cross.

  There on her left was the room where the brides were to get ready for their big moment. Kristen could still remember how excited she was when she was in that tiny little cramped room, her mother fussing with her veil.

  She stopped right where the doorway arched. The long aisle between the pews stretched far. She could remember standing right here. All of their guests had looked back at her, half in awe, half in confusion over where the groom was. Kristen hadn't seen any of them. She was staring far beyond, to the area in front of the altar. Three groomsmen. No groom.

  She moved past the archway, admiring the beauty of the Church. It was still beautiful, despite its age.

  Kristen took a tentative seat in one of the rows. Above, the chimes rang, a dark echo that went through the church and through her very bones.

  Connor's eyes. Connor's voice. His silence, the broken way he said her name. That night at Rockefeller. All those nights they made love. His smile. His touch. They flashed like a movie reel through her head, over and over.

  She was rocking back and forth, and before she realized it, her eyes were blurred with tears. She felt one trickle down her cheek, only to drop uselessly on the back of her hand. She didn't even try to wipe it away.

  She was so sure. So sure that maybe he could heal her. He was already beginning to, and she was already beginning to help him. They understood each other.

  More than anything else, she was sure that he loved her. He never said it, but she felt it. The way he looked at her, those tender moments between them that took her breath away. She felt like she could fall in love with him. For a deluded moment, she let herself believe that she could open herself up enough to love someone. To truly love someone in a way that so powerfully consuming that it took everything away from her. She would have willingly let him have it all.

  Then he turned around and stabbed her in the back. She ached. This was worse than when John and Melissa hurt her. It shouldn't hurt this much, Kristen told herself. She repeated the age-old mantra, no man is worth your tears, to herself. It was all a load of bull. There were men out there worth crying over.

  When it hurts this bad, it's worth crying over.

  A shadow fell over her crouched figure, and a warm hand gently brushed away the hair that had plastered to her face from her tears. "Are you all right?" It was Father Mackenzie. He was one of the Priests at St. Gregory's, and the man set to marry her and John.

  Kristen didn't answer him. She couldn't stop crying. The tears couldn't stop. Questions kept going through her head. How would she get past this? She did it once, and it nearly killed her. Could she go through it again?

  Kristen couldn't stop shaking, and as she felt Father Mackenzie's hand gently touch her shoulder, she lifted her head, his very image blurred by her tears. Father Mackenzie frowned. He knew her. He recognized her tears. She looked exactly the same.

  "I remember you,” he said softly, his voice a gentle baritone that was filled with concern. "Kristen, right?"

  Kristen felt her cheeks heat from shame. She hated the fact that she was crying. She hated the fact that Connor Wilde was a man worth crying over. Quickly, she brushed away her tears, feeling her eyes puff and tighten from the crying. Not trusting her own voice, Kristen nodded her head.

  Father Mackenzie sat next to her and was quiet for several long moments. "It's been a while hasn't it?” he asked softly. She was trembling, but it wasn't from the cold.

  Noticing, Father Mackenzie left her alone for a few minutes, but returned later with an old t-shirt. He gently placed the T-shirt next to her, and wrapped a towel around Kristen's wet shoulders.

  "I'm probably getting water all over the place," Kristen muttered shakily, clutching the towel tightly around her.

  "It's all right,” he said kindly, sitting next to her again.

  She looked so unbearably sad, as if the world had just fallen apart on her again. Of course Father Mackenzie remembered her. The poor girl had waited that day for hours for her beloved to come back to her. Guests had left, shaking their heads in pity. Kristen waited. Only to have her heart crushed when she saw her groom waltzing into the Church with one of her bridesmaids in hand.

  "Fate is cruel sometimes, isn't it?" He noted to the air, while Kristen was hiccupping next to him. She had her eyes shut tight, but Father Mackenzie could still see the tears that seeped through the delicate fringes of her dark lashes. She was trying so hard not to cry, he could tell. "It's okay to cry, Kristen. You don't…you don't have to be strong all the time. No one is here to judge you."

  "If I'm not strong…" Kristen whispered, "then people will tear me to pieces. They use me, hurt me, and betray me. There's no one here for me."

  It was strange to him that such a beautiful woman could be
so cynical. The despair radiating from her crumpled over form astounded him.

  "I'm not here to hurt you, Kristen. Not everyone is out to get you. Do you want to talk about it?" Father Mackenzie offered.

  Kristen shook her head, her dark hair concealing her face from view. Father Mackenzie opened his mouth to speak, but none would come. Finally, he said the only thing he could, "I'm just going to sit here with you, is that all right? Anytime you want me to leave you alone, just wave your hand at me."

  She didn't wave her hand. She didn't raise it once in the next hour, and Father Mackenzie willingly sat next to the girl for as long as she needed. Distantly, she was thankful that she wasn't alone. Even if the person sitting next to her was a stranger, he was there for her.

  He prayed. She would sit quietly. Occasionally, he could hear soft sobs coming from her, and sometimes grunts of anger, but after an hour, she had calmed completely, and was just sitting in the pew, her eyes staring blankly ahead towards the altar.

  She felt so incredibly empty and numb that it wasn't even a struggle to mindlessly stare ahead. She didn't even notice when the seat cushion next to her sank in gently with the weight of another.

  "Kristen."

  Kristen shuddered, both from the cold and from that voice.

  Kristen felt a warm hand gently cover hers, and as if she had been scalded, Kristen jerked her hand away. "Don't touch me." Her voice came out quiet and shaky, but there was still some resolve behind her words.

  "I heard about what happened." Kristen swallowed hard. She couldn't seem to think clearly. Before, she had been overwhelmed with pain and hurt, and now, she could barely piece together a coherent sentence and really mean it.

  Taking in a deep breath, she conjured up all the nastiness she could into her voice, "I'm sure you and John planned all this out together, didn't you?"

  Kristen hadn't taken her eyes away from the front of the Church, but she could feel Melissa tense up beside her.

  "Kristen?" It was Father Mackenzie, his eyebrows were knitted in concern, as he stared at the beautiful blonde who had seated herself next to her equally beautiful dark haired friend. What a stark contrast the two of them made with one another, a picture Michelangelo himself would have wanted to paint.

  "May we have a moment together, please?" Melissa's voice was soft and pleading, and her baby blues pierced through Father Mackenzie. It was hard not to give this lady whatever she wanted, but nonetheless, he held firm. He looked at Kristen, and to his surprise, she gave him a reluctant nod followed by a grateful smile that momentarily lit up her face.

  She was lovely, and he was reluctant to leave her, but he did so. When he was gone, Melissa took in a deep breath, as if she was afraid to say what she was going to say next.

  "I would never,” Melissa said quietly. "I didn't know, and if I did, I would have told John that he shouldn't have done what he did. I would have told John that he needed to be more understanding."

  It was times like this that made Kristen wish all the more that Melissa didn't hurt her. Even when Kristen hated her, Melissa was nothing but kind. Even when Kristen ruthlessly tore at Melissa, she simply took it, without saying a bad word in return. Kristen wanted nothing more than to hate Melissa. To be able to scream at her, tell her what a horrid friend she was, and to just bitch slap the hell out of her. But she just didn't have it in her anymore.

  Kristen needed a friend. She needed someone other than herself to rely on, and Melissa was more than willing to be whatever it was that Kristen needed her to be, whether it was a shoulder to lean on or simply a scapegoat to cut into.

  "John's an idiot," Melissa said quietly, "and I'm sorry that he did that to you and to Connor."

  Connor's very name sent an uncontrollable chill through her. Kristen opened her mouth to say something else. Something mean, maybe. Something nonchalant like she didn't care. Possibly something bitchy to drive Melissa away.

  But she didn't have it in her anymore to pretend or to put in the effort. "I am, too," Kristen whispered.

  This time, when Melissa made to hold Kristen's hand, Kristen let her. The comforting warmth of her hands over Kristen's chilled fingers soothed her, and unconsciously, Kristen tightened her fingers over Melissa's.

  Kristen didn't talk for a long time, but now that Melissa was here, questions began to arise again. Questions Kristen knew Melissa could answer, and as much as it hurt her to bring back the emotions and let herself hurt again, she knew she had to know.

  "Why would John do this to me?" Kristen asked hoarsely, her voice cracking slightly, her head turning for the first time to look at Melissa. Melissa's clear blue eyes pierced through Kristen, and Kristen felt her already weak defenses crumble. "Why does he hate me so much? He already took you away from me, and now he's trying to take Connor too. He made the both of you choose, and the both of you chose him. Why?" Kristen cried.

  "That's not the way ultimatums are supposed to work. You're not supposed to choose the person who gives you the ultimatum."

  Melissa gnawed on her lower lip, torn between what to tell her friend. She had never seen Kristen this way before. Kristen was so strong, and it shook Melissa to her very core to see how broken Kristen looked. Emotion and intensity like no other seemed to permeate and tinge the very air around her.

  Even in her sadness, Kristen had never looked more alive, and with a pang of regret, Melissa wondered if this was how Kristen felt when she had betrayed her.

  "I don't know, sweetie," Melissa sounded sad for her friend, "all I can tell you is that John wouldn't have done what he did if he felt there was another option....I'm not saying its right," she quickly added, before Kristen could rage again. Melissa waited for the blow up. The Kristen sarcasm and aggression she did so well. It didn't come. To her everlasting horror, Kristen hadn't said a word, instead, her head was tipped slightly towards the ground, her mass of hair effectively making a curtain and shielding her face from view.

  Quickly, Melissa started burbling and making excuses for John, and explaining that he was an idiot out of sheer nervousness only stopping when Kristen finally lifted her head ever so slightly.

  "It's not even about John,” Kristen said quietly.

  "What?"

  "It's not even John I'm upset over."

  Melissa's eyes softened, as she finally understood where Kristen was coming from. "You really liked Connor didn't you?"

  "How'd you manage to piece that together, Nancy Drew?" Kristen said softly, but there was no sarcasm in her voice. All that was left was a bittersweet underlying quality to her voice that sent shivers up and down Melissa's spine.

  "Connor…you know how hard it was for them when their father first died. The company fell completely on Connor's shoulders. It means a lot to him. Kristen it was a hard choice he had to make, but you know that he really had no other choice, don't you? He was an idiot to make it, but he really had no choice."

  "I know." Her voice was soft. Defeated. After hours of contemplation in that Church, she knew better than anyone else how important his job was to him.

  Kristen knew, but it didn't stop her from hurting. It kept her from being with Connor is what it did. Even if he had no other choice, it didn't stop her from hurting and realizing that no matter what, Wilde Finances would come first to Connor.

  "He didn't really choose the company over you, he chose it because it was the only decision he could make. I know that I know virtually nothing about the two of you, but I know that he's probably going to regret his decision for the rest of his life, if you don't come back to him."

  "If I don't come back to him? He's the one who chose to leave me behind." Kristen scoffed incredulously.

  "I'll talk to John, he'll see that what he said was a mistake, and he'll take back the ultimatum. Kristen, you just have to stay strong. You have to believe that he'll come back to you."

  "I just…God, I don't even fucking know him that well, so why do I care so much?" She let out a hollow laugh that came from her chest. Melissa's heart almo
st broke with the look of anguish in Kristen's dark eyes. She looked so unsure of herself, so scared that she might be turned away.

  Gently, Melissa reached up a hand to brush back the hair that clung to Kristen's wet cheeks.

  "Because when it's right, it just happens. You have no control over when and where you fall in love with someone or even why." Smiling sadly, no one knew better than Melissa the meaning of those words. Kristen looked at Melissa, and never before did she feel as close to Melissa or more thankful for her company than she did now.

  "I know this is selfish, but I don't want to be second to his company. I'm better than that. I want him to want me. I want him to put me first because I deserve it." The words rolled off her tongue easily, emotions spilling from her like they never had before. Like an epiphany, Kristen realized how strongly she felt about what she was saying. She looked into Melissa's eyes again, looking so beautifully innocent. "Am I completely awful for wanting that? He doesn't have to give up his company, but I need something. I need to know that I'm more to him than just the chase, and that he'll put me first."

  "Connor will realize his mistake. He'll realize it, and he'll fight to get you back. Because you do deserve it. You deserve everything you want and more."

  Neither of them knew if that would happen. There were no reassurances in life, but Kristen appreciated the words nonetheless. It soothed the knots in her stomach, even if it was all a lie.

  Melissa slowly moved her hands towards Kristen, intending fully to give her a hug, but giving her plenty of time to pull or push her away. Kristen fell into her arms, hugging Melissa back, and burying her head into Melissa's mass of strawberry scented blonde hair.

  Kristen was shivering, and her entire body was chilled, but Melissa's warmth was reassuring and comforting.

  "Can you ever forgive me?" Melissa asked quietly.

  Kristen went still. She didn't hate Melissa. She was pretty sure she hated John again, but Melissa was a whole different case. Still, she couldn't pretend that everything was okay instantaneously just because Melissa was there when Kristen was at her weakest. The whole betrayal still hurt her more than she could say, and it was lack of communication and speaking that had made it all the worse. It was time to let go.