The Lies I've Told

by J. L. Berg

  Jake had been here in minutes after she made the call, confirming what we’d both already known. I needed to go to the hospital as soon as possible.

  “We’re flying. I’ve already called Jimmy, and he’s agreed to take us.”

  “It’s just a broken hand.”

  “It’s more than a broken hand, Aiden,” Jake chimed in, both of us looking down at the alarming rate my hand was swelling. “I think some of those bones are shattered. I can set a bone, but if it’s shattered, that requires surgery.”

  Great.

  I could see the fear in her eyes as she helped me into the car, assisting me with my seat belt since my injured left hand made it difficult.

  “Thanks,” I said a second before she pulled away.

  Her eyes glistened, and her voice wavered. “I’m so sorry, Aiden.”

  “Why are you sorry?” I asked, my good hand resting atop hers.

  “Because I’m the one who pushed you, who asked you to keep going. It’s my fault.”

  I let out a breath through my teeth. “Believe me,” I said with conviction, “this is not your fault. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, but I knew she didn’t agree. A single tear fell from her cheek as she pulled away and shut the passenger door.

  I’d done that.

  I’d caused that pain.

  Because I’d been selfish and kept my secret.

  Because I’d lied.

  Because you’d stayed.

  We didn’t say much as the three of us drove to the airport, Jake tagging along since I was now officially his patient, and according to Millie, he was pretty damn dedicated, so he’d be with us for the foreseeable future.

  Just another item to add to my list of things that made me feel guilty—taking a new father from his family for an entire night. Thankfully, Jimmy was already waiting for us when we arrived at the small airport, his tiny plane parked in the middle of the parking lot, like I remembered it from the day I’d arrived here a month earlier.

  I hadn’t expected to leave so soon.

  I hadn’t expected to leave at all.

  “Damn, that looks pretty bad,” he said the moment I stepped out of the car.

  “Feels fucking brilliant,” I said, looking over at him with a rather dry expression.

  He chuckled under his breath. “Well, at least he still has his humor. Let’s get this poor guy to the hospital, shall we? Which hospital, Doc? Outer Banks or Virginia Beach?”

  We stepped onto the private plane, and I saw Millie give a pleading look to Jake before he answered, “Outer Banks Hospital should be fine. No need to take him farther away.”

  Millie mouthed the words, Thank you, to her brother-in-law before he gave a quick nod as I settled into my seat, resting my head against the back as I tried to breathe through the pain.

  “How are you doing?” she asked, her fingers warm and comforting against my forearm.

  “Good,” I lied.

  Honestly, I wanted to throw up, but I’d rather die than tell her that and cause her more pain.

  There were a lot of things I’d rather do than cause her more pain.

  And wasn’t that something to think about?

  My brain spiraled, going down a rabbit hole of self-doubt and loathing, as we traveled the short distance up the coast. By the time we made it to the hospital and I was checked into a room, I was sick with fear over my future with Millie.

  I was on autopilot as I sat in the room with the nurse, answering questions on medical history, while Millie went to go make calls to her worried family members.

  “Is there anything else?” she asked, pulling me out of my funk.

  I saw her turn away from the small tablet she had on the counter, and her eyes met me head-on. I swallowed hard, my gaze shifting between her and Jake, who’d been quiet this whole time, waiting to speak to the doctor who was assigned to me.

  “I, uh…” My throat went dry. “I have macular degeneration in both eyes.”

  Jake’s eyes widened, flickering toward the nurse and back to me.

  The nurse just kept typing before she spoke again. “Early onset?”

  “No,” I replied, thankful for the small bit of research I had done after storming out of my brother’s office. Often, with many eye diseases, there would be an early onset in childhood, like a warning sign that signaled of the dangerous journey ahead. “No vision problems as a kid.”

  “You’re only thirty-three.” Jake blurted out. “ Age related macular degeneration doesn’t usually start until mid-forties, if not later.”

  I nodded. “Pretty shitty luck, huh?”

  The nurse had already begun typing.

  “Can you give us a minute?” Jake asked.

  “Sure,” she replied. “I can finish typing this at the nurses’ station. The doctor should be around shortly.”

  “Great.” Jake waited for her to leave, before he turned his attention back toward me.

  “How long have you known? Does Millie know?”

  I sat up in the uncomfortable ER bed, doing my best to hold my arm against my chest. “My vision started to change a few years ago. I just chalked it up to getting older,” I said. “That, or Karma.”

  “Karma?”

  “My brother is a ophthalmologist,” I explained. “A bloody good one, too. He would constantly badger me to come into his practice and get my eyes checked—preventative eye health and all that—but I always told him I was fine and ignored him. Finally, when it got bad enough—”

  “How bad?” he asked, his arms folded across his chest. I wasn’t sure if he was asking as a friend or a doctor.

  “Blurry spots in my vision,” I explained, “Sometimes, what I’d see as wavy lines were actually straight. Stuff like that. I went in to see James, asking if I might need a pair of readers—you know, those silly little things you pick up in a drugstore?”

  He nodded, looking slightly put out. “I know what readers are. Half of my patients wear them.”

  “Right, of course. Well, apparently, what he saw he didn’t like. He ran me through a bunch of tests, none of which turned out good. He said my parents must have had it too—which probably contributed to why I got it so early on—the bastards.”

  “And my other question?” he pressed.

  “No, she doesn’t know.”

  “Know what?” Millie’s voice caused me to jump.

  Both of us turned to see her stepping into the small room as I felt a bit of panic come on.

  Not like this.

  Not yet.

  “That Aiden wants you to call his brother,” Jake intervened.

  I let out a sigh of relief. Not quite the lie I would have chosen, but it was good enough.

  “Oh!” Her spirits seemed to perk up.

  Jake gave me a look that said I owed him and also one that said he wanted to kill me simultaneously.

  I got it. Really, I did.

  “Well, why didn’t you just say so? Of course I can call him. Hand over your cell,” she suggested.

  “Actually,” I said, “if you could just dial, I think I’d like to tell him. Maybe you could get me some ice chips.”

  “Absolutely.” She seemed to like being useful, a common symptom of guilt.

  Not that she had anything to feel guilty about, but I knew it helped soothe the ache in her chest.

  Taking my phone from my shorts pocket, she found my brother’s phone number and tapped the screen, the phone ringing almost immediately.

  With a kiss on my cheek, she went off to find me ice chips while I broke the news to my brother.

  The news that things were far worse than I’d let on, and I doubted any device or harebrained idea of his was going to stop what we both knew was coming.

  No matter how hard I tried to fight it.

  That left me to decide, was I going to go at it alone, like I’d originally planned, or take everyone I loved into the darkness with me, ruining all our lives, one terrible accident at a time?

  If ever there was
a time when I needed to learn the art of patience, it was over the next few weeks after Aiden’s accident.

  In the days that followed, there was extensive surgery to repair the damage he’d done to his hand, and then the news that it would take months for him to regain full mobility. Thankfully, he didn’t have to stay in the hospital long, he only needed to return every so often for physical therapy once the initial healing began.

  So, our separation wasn’t long.

  I tried to see that as a good thing.

  I made every effort I could to make sure he was comfortable when he returned to the inn, but after several quiet days, I could see a distance growing between us.

  At first, I blamed the meds. Even I knew pain medications could alter a person’s state of mind, and add that to the devastating news he’d received in the hospital, it was no wonder he might be a little depressed.

  But even I knew I was lying to myself.

  More than once, I heard heated arguments coming from the suite when Jake came to visit, and then there were the hushed phone calls with his brother.

  Something wasn’t right.

  One afternoon, I found Aiden out of bed, staring at the papers I’d signed with Rita. I’d pulled them out after she called, wondering if we still had a deal. It had been some time since we spoke.

  And, at this point, I wasn’t sure.

  “What is this?” he asked, holding his injured hand to his bare chest.

  I tried not to stare, tried not to feel guilty.

  But the ache still burned in my chest at the memory of that night.

  Does he blame me? I wondered, for taking away his livelihood, his career?

  His life.

  “Nothing,” I answered. “Just a silly idea I had. I think it’s almost time for your meds. Why don’t you head into the kitchen, and I’ll make you some lunch?”

  He shook his head, his brows furrowed as he stared down at the contract. “I don’t want to take them anymore. They make me fuzzy.”

  “But you’ll be in pain, Aiden—”

  “I’ll manage. It’s been long enough since the accident.” He paused, still staring at the contract. “You bought a storefront? In town?”

  “No,” I said. “Well, not officially. No money has been exchanged.”

  “And you have it? The money?” he asked, suddenly very chatty. This was honestly the longest conversation we’d had since that hammer collided with his hand.

  “Yes. It’s going to take every cent I have, but yes. I’ve been saving for a long time. I didn’t know what for, but I think it might be a good investment. For the future.”

  His eyes hadn’t left the small stack of papers, like the gears in his head were on overtime. “You know how risky it is, to start a business like this? Especially here?”

  I felt the air in my lungs dissipate. Of all the reactions I’d expected him to have, this was not one of them.

  Shock mixed with a bit of surprise and excitement? Sure. But this?

  “Um, yes. I did grow up here,” I reminded him. “I’ve seen quite a few shops and businesses come and go in my lifetime.”

  “Then, why would you do this? Why risk your life savings on something with no guarantee?”

  My brows knit as anger rose in my throat. “I wasn’t aware anything worth the risk in life came with a guarantee.”

  He let out a silent breath of air, and finally, his eyes met mine. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Why? Because it’s my dream. Because I’ve spent far too long helping others chase theirs. I figured it was high time I focused on one of my own for a change. And someone once told me nothing should stand in the way of getting what I wanted.”

  “But why here? Why not back home in Florida?”

  My heart ached as deep emotion swelled in my chest. “Because this is my home.”

  His jaw clenched, his emotions getting the best of him. “Don’t do this because of me,” he warned, turning away, his shoulders slumped forward as he paced the room.

  Where have you gone, Aiden?

  You promised me you wouldn’t run.

  “See, that’s the thing,” I said, pivoting toward the door. “I thought I was doing it for us. I guess I was misinformed.”

  And then I walked away.

  Because the heart could only handle so much abuse, and lately, mine had been through the wringer.

  After our turbulent conversation over the storefront, things between Aiden and me didn’t improve.

  The vast walls he’d erected around himself only seemed to grow, the walls becoming so tall and thick, I wondered if I’d ever see the real Aiden again.

  But then, late at night, when the inn was quiet and he reached out for me, I’d find the tiniest crack in the protective fortress around his heart. His hardened gaze would soften as he held me, his touch would steady as his fingers grazed my skin, and for a moment, I’d believe he’d come back to me, but as fleeting as it had come, it would end just the same, and he would be gone again.

  “Maybe he’s just still feeling the effects of the accident. He did some serious damage to his hand, and I’m sure it’s caused quite a lot of depression, considering what he does for a living,” Molly said one day after a particularly rough day of playing nursemaid.

  “Molly, it’s been three weeks. I’m trying to be sympathetic here, but I’m not sure how much longer I can handle the silent treatment.”

  “You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?” she asked as we sat outside on the patio, something we’d come to enjoy during her maternity leave.

  She couldn’t seem to stay away from the inn, coming around at least twice a day with Ruby in tow, ignoring Mom’s insistence that she should enjoy her time away, so I’d done what any good sister would do.

  Instead of sending her away, I distracted her.

  With iced tea and gossip.

  Lately, the gossip all seemed to revolve around me, but it was nice to have her around to talk about it.

  Even if she was a little too perceptive.

  “Oh my gosh, you are thinking about leaving. What about the shop, Millie? What about not wanting to put your dreams on hold any longer?”

  I looked out onto the water, a cool glass of iced tea in my hand, as I thought about the day I’d spoken to Rita. I’d never felt so scared and excited in my life.

  “Don’t do this because of me.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, Aiden’s voice still so clear in my head. “I thought I was building a new life here, Molly, and now—”

  She leaned forward, her hand on my knee as her eyes met mine. “That man loves you,” she said with conviction. “I know I was leery of him in the beginning, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you, little sister.”

  “Clearly, you haven’t been paying attention lately,” I scoffed, my head turning from hers to hide my pain.

  “Don’t give up on him Millie, and don’t give up on your dreams. Fight for your happiness. Remember what mom said about being the key.”

  “That was just a stupid metaphor, Molly,” I said. I had believed, up until a few weeks ago, that I’d unlocked the temperamental lock that was Aiden’s heart.

  But now? Now, I was unsure about everything.

  “It doesn’t make it any less true,” she reminded me.

  I held on to these words as we said our good-byes, and I sent her back to her own house to do whatever it was that you did on maternity leave—wash baby bottles, stay up all night, and send four thousand pictures a day of your newborn to every person you knew.

  That sort of thing.

  I didn’t know how long I sat out on that patio by myself.

  Spending time with my sister had given me a glimmer of hope. Maybe I was acting a bit rash. I wasn’t the best at practicing the art of patience after all, and my inclination to act impulsively was always at the forefront of my mind.

  Aiden had asked me to trust him, and I needed to follow through with that, even if I got a little banged up in the process. Everyone had their p
lights, and relationships were sometimes about supporting each other through those rough times.

  Even if it hurt.

  Walking back to our suite, I made a mental note to contact Rita and let her know I was going forward with the contract. This was my home. I was here for better or for—

  “What is all this?” Pushing open the door to our suite, I found suitcases.

  Packed suitcases.

  Our once messy room had been straightened.

  No, not straightened. Emptied.

  All of Aiden’s things had been removed, packed into the suitcases that now stood in a straight little line next to the bed.

  “I’ve decided to head back home,” he answered, refusing to meet my gaze.

  Funny, I thought you were already there.

  I swallowed hard, my heart squeezing tight in my chest.

  “For a visit?” I asked.

  He finally turned, his expression grim.

  No, definitely not for a visit.

  “The project has been delayed for several months, love.”

  “Don’t call me that,” I spat. “Not anymore. Not when you’re—” I couldn’t finish.

  He sighed, a heavy sigh that filled the room momentarily as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. His head hung low, as if this were a burden for him.

  As if I were a burden he needed to be rid of.

  “The only reason I stayed was because I loved the inspiration the area gave. That, and—”

  “And what?”

  “Well, I knew it’d be easier to keep you here, in your hometown, rather than talking you into joining me in New York for a spell. And I liked having you around.”

  “You liked having me around?”

  “It is quite dull around here, and I knew I wouldn’t make it without someone to keep me occupied.”

  Every word cut my heart a bit deeper.

  “You’re lying,” I said, my arms wrapped protectively around my chest like armor. “You said that night together, our first night, was perfect. You said—”

  “I said a lot of things, Millie. I told you, I’m in the business of emotions, and I play off of others well. Didn’t I tell you to guard your heart around me?”

  “But you love me,” I demanded. “We were going to make a life here together!”