by Olivia Dade
The work she loved, the man she loved . . . it was all gone. She’d broken everything, just as she always did. And now her last memory of Grant’s body inside hers didn’t involve his usual words of affection or praise or even a hint of gentleness. It featured him fucking her as if she were a stranger who’d somehow manipulated his body into responding, with no emotional connection necessary.
She didn’t blame him. He deserved to be angry, and he was. She’d initiated the sex knowing it. As usual, she had no one to blame for her own pain but herself.
She didn’t know whether to feel glad or ashamed that she’d taken pleasure from that final sexual encounter. But as she’d sprawled across the workroom table in its aftermath, the sheer contrast between their prior lovemaking and their recent angry fuck had devastated her.
Even worse, her final act of desperation—using her body to show her love for him—had only made matters more treacherous for him once Tina arrived. Letting his subordinate manipulate and lie to him? Bad. Having sex with that subordinate at work? Worse. Much worse.
Her doorbell rang. She didn’t move, willing whoever stood on the other side of the door to leave.
“No point in hiding, Angie!” a familiar voice yelled. “We’re freezing to death out here! Do you really want a Sarah Popsicle right outside your door?”
“Honey, we want to make sure you’re all right,” Constance called. “Please let us in.”
“We come bearing wine! And episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000!” Helen shouted.
“Before we get you hammered, we need to figure out your strategy for tomorrow,” Penny added. “Let’s work on it together, Angie.”
“I brought brownies!” Mary announced.
Friends, wine, and brownies? Well, shit. It appeared she’d have to socialize after all.
She shuffled to the door and opened it. Her friends came pouring inside, each of them giving her a hug. Sarah flicked the light switch, and Angie winced as the brightness overhead stung her bloodshot eyes. Half blind, she made her way back to the couch. Penny settled on one side of her, Helen on the other. Mary put the brownies on a nearby table and sat on the floor near Angie, while Sarah and Con plunked themselves down onto empty chairs.
“Don’t any of you have better things to do on Valentine’s Day?” Angie asked.
They shook their heads.
“Not even you, Penny?”
Her friend shrugged. “I’ll make it up to Jack later. Some Rochester-Jane cosplay should do the trick.”
“Does Jack portray him before or after the blinding?” Helen asked, looking intrigued.
“Both.” Penny grinned. “Jack’s become an expert at donning and removing blindfolds.”
Mary lowered her face into her hands. “Another image I didn’t need,” she muttered.
Despite the emptiness consuming her heart, Angie couldn’t help but smile. “Weren’t you supposed to be sweet and shy, Penny? What happened to you?”
“I’m only shy among people I don’t know well. And I certainly never claimed to be sweet. Mary here has that distinction.” Penny reached down to pat Mary’s arm.
Mary’s face didn’t move from her hands. “Thank you, Penny,” she said, her voice muffled. “But I’m still involuntarily picturing your boyfriend in a blindfold, goodness help me.”
“Back on topic, ladies,” Helen said. “Angie, what happened with Grant and Tina today?”
Angie sagged into the back cushion of the couch, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Long version or short version?”
“Start with short,” Sarah suggested, cutting herself a piece of Mary’s brownies. “We can hear the long version later.”
“Okay.” Angie sighed. “Grant and I started sleeping together again last Friday, after I left all of you at the bar. He found out this morning that I’d been hiding my Valentine’s Day sex-scene contest from him, and he felt betrayed. We had angry sex. Tina arrived in the aftermath, bearing a complaint from Red Tie about the contest results. It was obvious what Grant and I had been doing. So now I’m going to lose my job for violating library rules, and Grant will lose his for not keeping me in line, not to mention sleeping with his subordinate.”
“You’re both definitely fired?” Mary whispered.
Angie let her tired eyelids droop almost shut. “Technically, no. Tina scheduled separate disciplinary meetings for the two of us tomorrow. We’re not allowed to talk to each other in the meantime, so we can’t coordinate stories. Not that he’d want to talk to me anyway.”
For a long moment, all the women remained silent as they considered Angie’s situation.
“Angie . . . how serious is your connection with Grant?” Helen finally asked.
“I’m wondering the same thing. Is all this heartbreak”—Constance indicated Angie’s sorry state with a sweep of her hand—“because of the man, the job, or both?”
“B-both.” Angie paused to get her hitching breath under control again. “Mostly the man, though. Much as I’d miss working with you ladies, I know we’d stay friends even if I found another job.” She forced a tiny smile. “After all, we put up with Sarah even though she only works with us during her breaks.”
Sarah gave a huff of faux indignation.
“But Grant’s gone for good, and I love him. I really do.” She stifled a sob, pressing her hand over her mouth.
Penny leaned into Angie, wrapping her slim arms around her friend’s waist. From the other side, Helen took Angie’s hand and squeezed it tight.
“This morning, he said he loved me too. Past tense.”
Sarah winced. “Ouch.”
“When he loved me, he didn’t know me. Now he does. He knows me. And he wants nothing to do with me.” Tears spilled out of the corners of her eyes, and she couldn’t stop them.
“Honey, you had an argument,” Constance said. “It happens, even with people who love each other. Wait and see what happens after these meetings, when his temper has cooled.”
“No, Con,” Angie said. “Grant is a logical man. An honest one. He doesn’t want a woman like me. I lied to him and threw his life into chaos. We’re done.”
Penny placed a gentle hand on Angie’s wet cheek, turning Angie to face her. “Didn’t you tell us a moment ago that you and Grant had sex after your argument? That doesn’t sound like a man who wants nothing to do with you.”
“Sex isn’t love,” Angie whispered. “And it was completely different from the other times we were together. He wasn’t tender or affectionate. It was a quick, angry fuck.” Unable to suppress them anymore, she broke into shuddering sobs. “B-because that’s all he w-wanted from m-me.”
Penny rocked Angie as best she could on the couch. “Shhh, honey. Don’t cry. It’s okay.”
“I g-got him f-fired,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “H-he h-hates m-me.”
Helen knuckled away the wetness beneath her own eyes and leaned toward Angie. “Sweetie, what did Grant say during your talk with Tina? Did he blame everything on you?”
Angie took a moment to calm down as best she could before answering.
“If he did, I’ll make him wish he’d never drawn his first breath,” Sarah declared. For once, she didn’t sound as if she were exaggerating. “No one knows creative payback like teachers.”
“He didn’t.” Angie sniffled, accepting the tissue Constance handed her. “He defended me and took all the blame for the affair. Which is such a Grant thing to do.”
“To me, that sounds like a man still in love,” Penny said. “Angie, I’ve been watching the two of you together for over a week, and he’s crazy about you. Do you really think Grant’s the sort of man who would toss that aside as soon as your relationship hits the first rough patch?”
Angie curled into herself and lay down, resting her head on Penny’s lap. Helen reached over to gently rub her back, while Penny stroked her hair. Mary knelt in front of the sofa and took one of Angie’s hands.
“What he said to Tina didn’t mean anythin
g,” Angie mumbled. “He’s a gentleman. Whether he cared about me or not, he’d try to protect the woman he’d just fucked. Out of guilt, if nothing else.”
Her limbs felt weighted with exhaustion, and she let her eyes close.
I broke it all again. Angie the Destroyer, reliable source of disappointment. Thank God I have friends to help me pick up the pieces.
“Love you all, but I’m going to sleep now,” she said, her voice slurred. “When I wake up, there’d better be brownies left. Talkin’ to you, DQ.”
She heard a metallic clink as the knife dropped back into the brownie pan.
“Dammit, Angie. Do you have some sort of brownie-related X-ray vision?” Sarah tried to sound cranky, but she couldn’t conceal the smile in her voice.
A few seconds later, Angie felt someone tuck a blanket around her legs. With an effort, she lifted her lids enough to see Sarah doing the honors. She smiled her thanks at her friend, and then closed her eyes again.
Angie fell asleep to the physical comfort provided by her friends and the emotional comfort of one last thought. Tomorrow, I’ll salvage what I can for Grant. Because I love him, even if he doesn’t love me anymore.
25
Grant stood on the front porch of his parents’ small house, bracing himself for the task ahead. His breath puffed out in a cloud, white against the darkness of the winter night. The chill had already seeped through his down jacket and into his bones, making him shiver. And several minutes ago, his nose had already gone numb with cold.
He couldn’t make himself move. What could he say to them? How could he explain the fact that he was going to lose his job tomorrow? That he wouldn’t be able to support them like they deserved? And how the hell was he supposed to do it without breaking down from the pain in his own heart?
He’d considered waiting to tell them until their normal morning conversation, but only a coward would relate news like this over the phone. They deserved to hear it in person. And they would, if he could get his finger to push the damn doorbell.
The door opened while he lingered on the front porch, and the porch light suddenly illuminated his mother in the doorway. She was already wearing her threadbare, oversized robe and fleece pajamas, which didn’t surprise him. She and Dad didn’t go out in the evenings in the way they once had, so she tended to change into comfortable clothing immediately after dinner.
“Sweetie?” Her brow was furrowed in concern. “Why are you standing out here in the dark? Are you okay?”
“I was just doing a little thinking. How did you know I was here?”
He knew he looked like an idiot. But he still couldn’t make his feet move toward her, even though she’d stepped aside for him to enter the house.
“We heard a car in the driveway, but then no one knocked or rang the doorbell. I finally decided to check to see what was going on.” She waved a hand. “Come in, honey, before we let all the heat out of the house.”
That did the trick. God knows, his parents couldn’t afford to spend extra money on their heating bill right now.
“I hope it was okay that I stopped by tonight without calling first.” He offered her a weak smile and headed inside. “For all I know, you and Dad had a wild night planned.”
She rolled her eyes before giving him a hug. “You know we’re always happy to see you. Though I have the definite feeling you don’t come bearing glad tidings.”
His mother’s arms surrounded him, warm and soft. Exactly what he needed. He knew it was selfish to take comfort from her under the circumstances, when the news he brought would make her life harder. When the choices he’d made meant he couldn’t pay his debt to them. But he couldn’t help it. He allowed himself to draw strength from her embrace and the obvious love held within it. A long minute passed before he made himself pull away and give her a kiss on her cheek.
“What gave it away?” He removed his shoes before moving further into the house. “Was it the fact that I’d basically turned into an icicle on the front porch?”
“That. Also the fact that you look like your best friend deserted you, but only after stealing your puppy and kicking you in the belly.” Her worried gaze followed him into the den, where he collapsed on the sofa with a groan. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
Before he could answer, the familiar shushing sound of tennis balls sliding along wood floors came from the hallway. Dad, using his walker. After a minute, Edward came into view, moving slowly. His right arm shook slightly and he almost dragged his left leg forward with each step. But his face lit with a wide smile when he saw Grant, and he lifted his left hand from the walker in greeting.
“We didn’t expect you tonight, son. Did you come by to get beaten at checkers again?”
Grant’s forced smile felt like it cracked his face. Before the West Nile virus, Edward had played chess with awe-inspiring tactical brilliance. Now he struggled with the strategy involved in checkers, often losing track of who’d made the last move in the middle of the game. How was he ever going to return to his work as a mortgage broker? And how would he and Mom manage without at least one of their sons nearby?
He’s getting better, Grant reminded himself. When Dad first came home from the hospital, he had trouble talking. He could hardly get out of bed, much less walk around the house. In a few more months, maybe the worst of this will have passed.
“You’re on, Dad,” Grant said. “But first, I need to talk to the two of you about something.”
Edward raised his brows. “Sounds ominous.” He made his way to the special recliner they’d bought, one whose seat lifted and tilted forward. With his left hand, he dug into the cloth bag attached to the walker and found the remote, pushing a button to set the chair in motion. Once it had reached its maximum lift and tilt, he settled into it and depressed the button again to lower it back to a normal, horizontal angle.
Grant’s mom settled on the opposite end of the couch, turning to face her son. “Might as well tell us.” She leaned forward to pat his arm. “You’ll feel better once you do.”
Maybe I will, he thought. But you won’t.
Nevertheless, he made himself start talking. No point in delaying any longer.
“Mom, Dad . . .” He struggled to find the right words. “You know how much I love you. You’re the best parents I could have possibly had.”
“Well, obviously,” his father said drily.
“That’s just a given.” His mother winked at him.
He couldn’t suppress a smile, despite the gravity of what he was about to say. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you for the sacrifices you both made while I was growing up.”
At that, both his parents sobered and pinned their gazes to him.
“Mom, you left your job at the community college to take care of me during all those hospitalizations and recovery periods. Dad, you turned down so many opportunities for promotions I lost count. All because you didn’t want to travel or work longer hours. So you could be available in case of an emergency and come home at a decent hour to help Mom take care of me.”
He swallowed hard, knowing his parents wouldn’t want to hear his next words. “And because of that, I know we struggled for money.”
His father shifted uneasily in the recliner, and his mother pursed her lips. Grant wasn’t surprised. This wasn’t a topic they’d ever discussed before. Not with any sort of openness. Despite the loving family his parents had created, and the easy parent-child dialogue they’d encouraged, certain conversational subjects had always remained off-limits. His parents weren’t prone to complaints, and they definitely didn’t like to discuss their finances with their sons.
Still, after all these years, he needed to say it at least once. “We all struggled and suffered because of me. We pinched pennies for most of my childhood because of your lost job opportunities and because of all my medical bills. And the suffering wasn’t just financial. Mom, you lost the chance to have a career. Dad, you lost the chance to move up the ladder at the bank.”
; Grant shook his head. “Hell, I know Nathan suffered too. He didn’t always get the attention he deserved, even though you tried to make things equal between us. My illnesses made our lives harder in every possible way. And I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about that.”
“Pish-posh.” His mom waved a hand. “We’re your parents, Grant. Taking care of our kids is kind of our job description.”
“Still. I’m sorry. I wanted you to know that. I also wanted you to know how grateful I am for everything you did and everything you do.”
She swiped a knuckle underneath her glasses, her breath hitching. “We know, sweetie. We always knew.”
His father pushed back his thinning hair with a shaking hand. “What brought all this on, son?”
If what Grant had said before was hard, this part was almost impossible. But he took a deep breath and said it anyway. “When you got sick, Dad, I wanted so badly to repay my debt to both of you in some way. I felt like I could do that by moving nearby and helping out. And even though I haven’t lived here long, I’ve really enjoyed being so close to you and Mom. Not because I’m fulfilling some sort of obligation. Because I love both of you, and spending time with you is fun.”
Edward raised a single brow. “But?”
“But I have a meeting with the library’s assistant director tomorrow morning.” He said it in a rush, trying to get it out while he still could. “And there’s a good chance I’ll be fired.”
His mother’s gasp made him wince. “What happened, sweetie? Why would the library fire you?”
Leaning back, he rested his head against the back of the couch. “Do you remember my first day of work? When we talked that morning, I said I’d met someone. A woman named Angie. I told you I thought she was the one.”
“Of course I remember,” his mom said. “It was the first time you’d ever spoken about anyone like that. You said you two were supposed to meet again that night. But when I asked you about her the next day, you said things hadn’t worked out.”
“Yeah. Because I found out that morning what she did for a living.”