Young Lies (Young Series)

by Kimble, W. R.

  I smile fondly, watching my sleeping son and realizing the mess I’ve put us in. The what-ifs are returning in force—what if I’d never left Matt and we’d had all these years to be a family? What if he’d never left Claire’s house that morning? The list goes on and on and only reminds me of the regrets I have for my life. My son and I are essentially homeless right now, living in a cheap motel. It wouldn’t take much for me to start a new life somewhere, but I’m hesitant. Starting a new life would suggest I’m trying to forget the old one and Matthew’s role in it. And that is the last thing I want to do, but I know I’ll never move forward in my life if I’m constantly living in the past. It was the same when my mother died; I was so focused on my grief of losing her that I forgot to live. Until the moment Matthew Young walked into Chet’s Diner.

  “We read the will after the service.”

  Turning away from Tyler, I find Claire sitting on my bed, her legs up and crossed at the ankles as she watches me closely for any reaction. “Oh?” I say tentatively.

  She nods. “Nothing unexpected,” she tells me. “He left it all to you and Ty. Money. The house. Though the company falls into the hands of his partners. You don’t have to worry about a thing, Sam. You and Tyler have a place to live and you’ll be taken care of completely. We’ll be right here to help you through this entire thing. Please don’t think you have to be alone.”

  I flop down beside her and she immediately snatches my hand in hers. “I never wanted anything from him, Claire. I still don’t. I’ll give everything to you and your family, but I can’t take anything from him.”

  “You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself, because it’s getting really old,” she admonishes. “This stuff isn’t coming to you because that’s what Matthew wanted. His last wish was for you and your son to be cared for in his absence. And you can’t try the whole argument that he only did this because you recently came back into his life—my dad and sisters already tried. Matt updated his will six months ago, before this shit even started, and this was his wish then. There’s no way he knew this was going to happen, that you were going to come back and he was going to lose his life. So if you turn this stuff down, you’re going against his wishes and stomping on his attempt to provide for his family. Do you really want to be the one to do that?”

  I am gobsmacked. Claire has always been the take-no-prisoners type and she knows how to push the buttons of the people in her life. This, though, seems a little below the belt. She knows damn well that phrasing it in that way I almost have no other choice than to accept what Matthew left for me and Tyler. But just because I accept it doesn’t mean I have to use it. We don’t have to live in the house. We don’t have to use the money.

  The house, though, is one hell of a draw. It’s the place where Matthew and I first made love. The place he proposed. The place our son was conceived. The place where I was the happiest I had been since I was a child. There are so many incredible memories within those walls and the thought that even though Matthew is gone, I’ll still be surrounded by him is surprisingly comforting. Besides, Tyler deserves some stability. He needs someplace to belong where he can grow up happily. I’ve spent so much time wishing he could have gotten to know Matthew better and this is the perfect opportunity. There is no shortage of memories I can share with him—well, the edited versions if need be.

  Still, I turn to face Claire, glaring at her for the low blow she just issued. She’s smirking, knowing she’s hit her mark and has convinced me to do what she wanted. I almost laugh at the thought that Claire, the woman who, if not for her mother and brother, would claim she was adopted without a second thought, has inherited her sisters’ powers of manipulation. Of course I’m smart enough not to share this thought out loud. She’s probably still pissed at me for leaving her house the way I did. “I hate you so much right now,” I tell her quietly.

  She beams at me, squeezing my hand. “I know,” she brags. After a moment, her amusement fades. “We’re going to get you through this, Sam. I know it’s going to be hard on you and I really wish you and Matt had had the chance to fix things between you. I’m not going to start spouting all that sappy shit about how he loves you and he’s watching out for you wherever he is; you don’t need to be told all that. If you don’t know it by now, you’re a Goddamn idiot.”

  I laugh through the tears that are pouring down my face. This is what I’ve needed. The unwavering trust and support of my best friend. The person who would tell me the truth even if others believed it was the last thing I needed to hear. And now that Matthew’s gone, she’s my biggest defender. I know she won’t do anything that would make me suffer more in the long run. If I’m honest with myself, I know there is nowhere for Tyler and I to go to start over completely, no matter my determination. Maybe I need closure. Maybe moving into his house will give me that. Maybe it won’t. Either way, I need to find out for everyone’s sake.

  14

  Eight Years Ago...

  For the first time in nearly three days, my mind has a moment of clarity and I realize what I’m doing. Currently I’m on an airplane, halfway between my family’s farm and Matthew’s home in New York, and I have no intention of returning to the farm. It’s only been a four months since I met Matthew Young, one month since I saw him last, and I came to a sudden realization while I was at work that the reason I’ve been so down and distracted since the return from my two-week stay with him was because I missed him. I missed every little thing about him and I didn’t want to go another week without him. When my shift ended that night, I went home and waited for my nightly call from Matthew. With my own realization so fresh in my mind, I could hear in his voice exactly how I must sound to everyone around me—like something is missing from me.

  The words that came out next from my mouth surprised both of us and as soon as I heard the words, I was instantly mortified. I’d asked if I could move in with him. The man I’ve only known a short time, who I’ve only seen a handful of times. Yes, we just spent two weeks together and they were an incredible two weeks that neither of us wanted to end. Yes, he joked a few times during that time about me moving in with him, but he hadn’t actually meant it, had he? He’s spent all the time since leaving college as a bachelor, doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, so why the hell would he want some farm girl he doesn’t know living with him?

  Then in a rush, he gave me an answer. I’d heard his laugh and thought he was laughing at me, when in fact he was laughing in relief because he wasn’t the only person feeling the way I did. He hadn’t wanted to bring up the topic for fear of scaring me away with too much too soon. We spent the next several hours thoroughly discussing what would be a major life change for both of us. Neither of us wanted our friends or family to think we’d made a spontaneous decision in the heat of the moment that we later ended up regretting. We didn’t want to think that either. Matthew was concerned about my age, about how little I’ve seen and done, and whether I was doing this to escape the depression of my mother’s death and what I knew to be a dead end life in Iowa. I was annoyed at him at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I saw his side.

  Despite what we obviously feel for each other, our first priority has to be protecting ourselves from hurt. He needed assurance that I wasn’t after his money. Not that he would ever suspect that of me, let alone say it to me, but while I might be from a poor farming town, I’m smart enough to realize a lot of people will believe that’s what attracts me to him. On the one hand, I need to feel secure in the fact that he’s not using me as his flavor of the month or another notch in his bedpost. If this had been the case, I never would have heard from him again after my two-week visit. Maybe it’s my naïveté speaking, but I truly believe that everything Matthew feels for me is real. Yes, this has hit both of us very hard and very quickly; however, I’ve never heard of a timeline for how quickly someone can fall in love.

  My eyes widen at this thought. Is that what this is? Are Matthew and I in love? I don’t have much experien
ce with it, but with all the books I’ve read, I think I’ve gotten a decent idea of what it might be like. Not to mention I spent most of my life watching my parents, two people who couldn’t have been more in love with one another if they tried, and I always remember watching them together and thinking that’s what I wanted. To be so in love with my husband after over twenty years that when I’m with him, nobody and nothing else existed. I might not be there with Matthew yet, but where all my old fantasies from before held the face of a yet unknown man, now they all revolve over Matthew.

  I don’t know if he feels the same. But from what I know of him, he’s not the type to invite his current girlfriends to live with him, and as there hasn’t been a shortage of girlfriends for him—something he admitted during my visit—I have a feeling I’m a lot more to him than a fling.

  Leaving home in the first place wasn’t easy. Aside from the emotional toll it took on me, I thought Jimmy was going to padlock me in my bedroom and he probably would have if Daddy hadn’t come home when he had. The discussion I had with my father was the most difficult. But of all the people in my life, he was the one who most understood my desire to leave. He’d always been the first to encourage all my dreams about going to college and seeing the world. After Mom died, he even tried to convince me to go on with my plans; I’d ignored him. I’m suddenly happy I did; if I’d gone off to college, I never would have met Matthew.

  Worried as he is about letting me go off on my own like this, he understands. He likes and trusts Matthew; if he didn’t he wouldn’t allow it. But he knows what it’s like to be kept away from the person you’re destined to be with. When he and my mother met, her family didn’t approve of him and did their best to keep them apart. It resulted in my mother running away from home in the middle of the night when she was sixteen and my parents eloping. We never had any sort of relationship with my mother’s family, and though she stubbornly maintained it was their loss, I know it hurt her. My dad would never put me through that, which was why he was the one to help me pack all my things and smooth things over with my siblings.

  Tom was another story altogether. The couple times he met Matthew left a bitter taste in his mouth, especially when he saw Matthew was interested in me. He argued with me about staying with Matthew for two weeks. And we fought when I told him I was leaving to live with Matthew. He is convinced that Matthew is going to drop me one day and leave me with nothing and I’m an idiot for leaving everything I know for him. For the first time in our friendship, he abandoned the subtle hints about how he felt we should be more and kissed me. I pushed him away and had to have the conversation I’d been dreading since middle school with him about how I cared a lot for him, but I don’t feel the same and I’m not attracted to him in that way. I know it hurt him and while I regret that, I couldn’t let him go on thinking that he and I had some sort of romantic future. Especially when the only man I’ve ever felt anything for romantically is the one I’m flying towards right now.

  After those few days of blind excitement, my eyes are opening again and I wonder what the hell it is I’m doing. Maybe everyone at home was right, suggesting that I’ve been seduced by some rich playboy who’s met and conquered a small town virgin. What if I get to his house and find out those two weeks with him were an act of some sort and he’s not really like that? He could be some perverted domineering psychopath who likes to tie young girls up in his closet for his sexual amusement.

  I raise my eyebrows at my own thoughts. I’m overreacting. Of course I’m going to be nervous about this; what I’m doing is positively life-changing. I might be naïve, but I’ve always been a decent judge of character and Matthew hasn’t lied to me or hid away his true nature to lull me into some false security. I really need to stop watching those movies on Lifetime.

  -------------o-------------

  Standing in baggage claim, I feel a sense of déjà vu. Last month I was standing in almost the exact same spot, searching the emerging crowd from the terminal, knowing I look like a lovelorn pathetic sap, but now more than ever, I don’t give a shit about appearances. I don’t know what it is about Samantha that makes me feel this way. All I know is the moment she left last month, I felt part of me leave with her. Claire calls it kindred spirits, though she always rolls her eyes when she says it, and I know she doesn’t believe in the “everyone has a soul mate” thing, and frankly, until I met Samantha, neither did I. Leo thinks I’ve lost my mind. He’s probably right. But I’ve spent the last two days getting my house ready for her to come live with me and I can’t wait.

  I’m getting nervous, though. More than three-quarters of the passengers have emptied and there’s still no sign of her. I bought her ticket, first-class because I wanted her comfortable, and she should have been among the first to leave the plane.

  “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as the flight attendants appear. She changed her mind. It was too much for her. I knew it. We fell too hard; or rather I fell too hard. This girl has been on my mind since the first second I laid eyes on her. Love at first sight. Bullshit.

  Well, screw her. If she couldn’t have the fucking decency to just call me and tell me she as having second thoughts, I don’t need her. We could have talked through it, I could have told her to sleep on it for a few more weeks, and eventually maybe we could try it again. But no. She just fucking stands me up. I turn away from the terminal, hands fisting in my hair as I fight my temper and, though I don’t want to admit it, especially not now, my breaking heart. Baggage claim is full of people being reunited. Men kissing their women, all of them probably with big plans about taking them home and making love to them until sunrise. Or at least that is what my plans consisted of with Samantha. I had this entire romantic dinner prepared down by the lake and I was going to tell her the truth of how I feel about her—that I’m so in love with her I can’t think straight. I wouldn’t have needed her to return the sentiment if she wasn’t ready. Then I would have taken her inside, up to my bathroom where I would have lit candles all around the bathtub filled with lightly-scented bubble bath, and we would have sat together in the water until we both relaxed from the stress of the last couple days. Once we were done with the bath, we’d head towards my bed, and I would spend the entire night backing up my words of love for her with my body.

  Now I think I’ll go home, toss the flowers I bought for her into the fire, then drink until sunrise. I’m sure Leo would be willing to sit with me; he’s always been good with not vocalizing the I told you so’s, at least for a while.

  “Waiting for someone?”

  I practically jump out of my skin at the voice and whirl around to find Samantha standing a few feet from me, her hands wrapped tightly around the straps of her backpack, her lips twitching in amusement at my reaction. In all honesty, I don’t think I’ve seen a more beautiful sight in my life than her hair in that messy ponytail and her dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans. My heart lifts and I laugh in relief before finally snapping out of my daze. I cross the distance between us and in one movement, push her backpack to the floor so I can pull her into my arms, kissing her with everything I’ve got. She kisses me just as deeply and I know she hasn’t had second thoughts, or if she has, she came to the decision this is what she wants.

  “In answer to your question,” I whisper as our lips part and I hold her, speaking into her hair, “I am waiting for someone. An incredibly beautiful, smart, funny young woman who for some reason has decided I’m worth a second thought.”

  She flushes a little as she pulls away to look at me, biting her lip against a grin. “My apologies. I should step aside so she doesn’t get the wrong idea about you kissing another woman.”

  I laugh at her and hold her more tightly as she halfheartedly tries to wriggle out of my grasp. “Cute, Samantha. Very cute,” I tell her, wrapping one arm around her shoulder as we turn to grab her bags. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We’ve got big plans this evening.”

  “Do we?” she asks innocently. “And what might those pl
ans consist of?”

  Smirking, I grab her two suitcases and lead the way out of the airport. “It’s a surprise.” I glance at her, trying to gauge her reaction and whether she’s worked out my plans and whether she’s comfortable knowing what I have planned. Her eyes are glimmering eagerly; there’s no doubt in my mind that she wants exactly what I want. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”

  -------------o-------------

  Present...

  The car pulls up in front of the house and Claire puts it in park, then turns off the ignition. Both of us stare at the house with trepidation and I know she’s thinking the same thing I am: that at any moment, Matthew should be pulling open the front door with a big welcoming grin on his face. Of course, we both know this won’t be happening and I’m starting to regret this decision.

  “You ready?” Claire asks quietly, still watching the house.

  “No.” We sit in the car silently for several minutes until I can’t justify procrastinating any longer before finally piling out. Tyler is thrilled to be back which brings a smile to my face. It feels as though I’ve managed to make the right decision for a change and that thought gives me the strength to walk up the stairs and into the house with Claire and Tyler right on my heels.

  Nothing has changed since I was last here, or when Matthew was last here for that matter, and everywhere I look, I’m reminded of him. Especially when my eyes find our wedding photo hanging over the fireplace.

  “Come on,” Claire says quietly, an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get you settled and I’ll make dinner...”

  A couple hours later, we’re settled out on the back patio with grilled chicken and baked potatoes. Claire had made a beeline with my belongings to Matthew’s bedroom, but I’d refused to go in. That is one thing I can’t face right now. Not yet. I’m back in the guestroom I shared with Tom, Tyler is in his bedroom—and it officially is his bedroom now—and for now I can see us settling in quickly. Claire will be staying the night and Leo will be returning tomorrow, so we won’t be here alone.