One Good Reason

by Sarah Mayberry

  “No.”

  “You need to talk to someone. You can’t just let this eat away at you. And I mean that literally. How much weight have you lost lately?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You’ve had three nightmares in the past two weeks. Please tell me you don’t think that’s normal or acceptable. I can only imagine how hard it must be to put your head on the pillow every night, knowing what might be waiting for you.”

  “It’ll get better.”

  “Will it?”

  He still refused to look at her. She shuffled forward on her knees so she was in his direct line of sight, forcing him to engage. She knew he wanted her to leave him the hell alone, but even if she didn’t love him, she didn’t have it in her to walk away from someone who was in so much pain.

  “What about a counselor? Someone who specializes in abused children?”

  “Gabby… Just leave it, will you?” His face was set in stone.

  “Or maybe there’s a survivors’ group. Somewhere you can go and talk to other people like you—”

  He surged to his feet in an explosive burst. “Will you freaking drop it?” His voice echoed loudly in the small space.

  She looked up at him, towering over her, naked and angry and scared. She stood. “Jon—”

  “No. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I appreciate the thought, I really do, but you’ve got no idea and talking or whatever isn’t going to change anything. So leave it. Okay?”

  “Do you think this makes you weak? Is that it? Because—”

  “For God’s sake, Gabby, get out of my head. I don’t want you in there, I didn’t invite you and it’s none of your freaking business!”

  He said it so forcefully she actually took a step backward. She blinked a few times. She felt as though she’d been standing in a wind tunnel, as though she’d been battered and bruised by his vehement, angry rejection.

  Without saying another word, she left the room. She collected Jon’s clothes, then she took them to the bathroom and left them on the floor. She retreated to her bedroom doorway and stood there, arms wrapped tightly around herself, holding herself together. Just.

  She could hear him dressing. The hiss of his zipper. The metallic clink of his belt buckle. The thud of his boots. Then there was a small silence and he stepped out.

  They looked at each other in silence for a stretched moment.

  “Gabby—”

  “It’s okay. I get it. I’ve been here before. I know the drill.”

  She walked to the front door and held it open for him. She stared at the wall, waiting for him to leave. After a moment he moved past her. She didn’t give him a chance to say anything, swinging the door shut between them and turning the bolt. She waited to hear the sounds of his departure. It seemed to take a long time for them to come.

  Why does happiness speed by so fast while pain seems to last forever?

  Numb and shaken, she sat on the couch. Mere hours ago, she and Jon had shared dessert and talked about what they’d do after Dino’s anniversary party the following day. He’d held her close and made her body ache with his clever hands. He’d made her feel so damned precious and loved.

  She pressed her fingers to her lips, but her chin started wobbling without her permission. She could feel the pain cracking open inside her.

  So much hope. She’d really thought they had a chance. How stupid was she? He might have knocked down her dining-room wall, but he’d kept his own walls firmly intact. He was prepared to sleep with her, to laugh with her, to whisper sweet, dirty nothings in her ear. He was prepared to put down roots, to buy into Tyler’s business. But he wasn’t prepared to share his pain or weakness or fear. He wasn’t prepared to tell her about his past.

  He didn’t trust her. For whatever reason. Maybe he didn’t think she was up to it. Maybe he thought she wouldn’t understand or that she’d judge him. She didn’t know.

  All she knew was that she had been in exactly this spot before and she knew it was impossible to share a life with someone who didn’t trust you. Impossible to put your trust in their hands when they kept themselves guarded. There was no true intimacy, no connection.

  I can’t do, I can’t do it, I can’t do it.

  The first tear slid down her cheek. She closed her eyes.

  Jon needed her so badly. He needed her more than he needed air. She knew it in her bones. But she couldn’t do this again. She couldn’t give him all of her and get carefully rationed parts of him in return. It would kill her. It would curdle her love into resentment and anger and it would destroy anything good between them. Worst of all, it would leave her with nothing but pain or loss.

  Not that she wasn’t dealing with that now. But it could have been worse.

  How could it have been worse? Tell me how this moment, right now, could hurt more? Tell me how I could love him more and feel his loss more?

  A distressed sound escaped her throat. She bowed her head as her grief overflowed. Her hands gripped her thighs and she held on for dear life as the tears came in earnest.

  Her chest ached with hollowness. She felt so empty. So lost. So alone. The night, the weekend, the coming week, the rest of her life stretched ahead, bleak and unimaginable.

  She reached for the phone. There was only one person who might come even close to understanding.

  “Hello?” Tyler answered on the third ring, his voice thick from sleep.

  “I need you,” she said brokenly.

  “Gabby? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “No. Jon just left. Can you come over?”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hold tight.”

  She loved that he didn’t hesitate. He’d always been a good friend to her. The best of friends.

  She huddled on the couch, waiting for the buzz of the intercom to announce Tyler’s arrival. Instead, there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find him standing there, hair mussed, T-shirt inside out.

  “How did you get in?” she asked, even though she wanted to throw herself into his arms.

  “I know the code. Remember?”

  He opened his arms and she walked into his embrace. His arms closed around her, warm and strong. She tried to give herself over to the comfort of familiarity but after a couple of seconds she pushed herself from him and took a few steps backward, shaking her head. Tyler looked at her quizzically.

  “Sorry,” she said, feeling sad and helpless. “You’re close, but you’re not the one I want.”

  She knew he understood what she meant.

  “Come on.”

  He led her into the living room and they sat on the couch. She pulled her knees tight to her chest and he watched her, compassion on his face.

  “Jon and I have been seeing each other. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I noticed.”

  “He’s been practically living here. We’ve spent every night together. He fixed my living room—” She hic-cupped as more emotion welled up.

  He waited patiently.

  “We had a great day today,” she said, trying again. “Really, really lovely. Then Jon had one of his nightmares.”

  “Jon has nightmares?”

  “Three in the past two weeks that I know of. He’s under siege, Tyler. God knows how many hours of sleep he gets a night. Each time he’s had one, he’s bailed in some way. This time, I thought he’d stay, that we would talk.”

  She took a deep, shuddering breath.

  “But he didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want me to touch him. And when I tried he told me it was none of my business. That he didn’t want me in his head.”

  She started to cry again, remembering the utter, harsh rejection of the moment. Tyler moved closer and put his hand on her back.

  “It’s okay, Gab. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not, because I love him. I love him so much and now I have to try to get over him and I don’t think it’s going to happen. He’s a part of the business and I’ll see him every day
. Every day.”

  The full horror of it hit her as she contemplated the future. Jon in her life, in her workplace. Sexy and funny and kind—and completely, profoundly off-limits to her.

  “I’m going to make you a cup of tea. You got a box of tissues somewhere?”

  She swiped at her wet face with the back of her hand. “In the bathroom.”

  Tyler brought her tissues then disappeared into the kitchen. She blew her nose and mopped at her face. When he returned with a mug she was feeling moderately calmer.

  He sat opposite her. “I know I’m supposed to say something profound here, but this isn’t really my area of expertise. I do know he cares for you. Ally and I have both seen the way he is with you.”

  She sniffed and fiddled with the scrunched-up tissues in her hand.

  “Maybe it’s a matter of time. Of waiting him out. You’ve got to understand, the way we were brought up… We got really good at surviving on our own, you know? From a young age. We never had anyone we could trust, anyone who was there for us.”

  Gabby knew all this.

  “But you trusted Ally.”

  “Yeah. I did.”

  “And you never trusted me.” She said it without accusation. It was simply a fact.

  He shook his head. “It’s not as black-and-white as that. Ally and I… There was this connection, right from the start.”

  She nodded, smiling sadly. He was making her point for her. “I get it. I do.”

  “Give it time, Gab.”

  “How long? A year? Two years? I waited three years for you to trust me, Tyler, and you never did. It’s taken me nearly four years to get over you. I’ve known Jon for two weeks and I’m so in love with him I feel like my chest is going to cave in. So how long should I sit around and hope?”

  Tyler shrugged helplessly. “You know I can’t answer that.”

  “I know. No one can.”

  She fiddled with the tissues some more.

  “Why don’t you drink some tea?”

  She looked at him. “I need to resign.”

  The decision had been sitting in the back of her mind since Jon walked out the door and she’d understood exactly how deeply she’d invested in the dream of him.

  “Come on. You’re upset. This is not the time to make big decisions.”

  “It’s exactly the time, because otherwise I’ll let myself get sucked into sitting around in perpetual hope. I can’t do it again, Tyler. I…can’t. I love him too much to see him every day, knowing he’s in pain, knowing he won’t let anyone close to do anything about it.”

  “We can’t run that place without you, Gabby. And, frankly, I don’t want to. You’re as much a part of T.A. Furniture as I am.”

  “You’ll find someone else.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “I need to do this, Tyler. For me. You don’t know what it’s like loving someone who doesn’t love you in the same way. It kills a part of you. Makes you feel like maybe there’s something wrong with you, something that’s stopping them from fully committing.”

  Tyler looked anguished. “Look, I know I hurt you. If I could take it back, I would. That was about me. Or maybe it was about us, about us together not being right. But there is nothing wrong with you.”

  She nodded her understanding of what he was saying, but it didn’t change anything.

  “I’m not accepting your resignation. Not tonight. Not until you’ve had time to think about this. Really think about it.”

  “Fine. But I’ll feel the same way tomorrow.”

  A half-amused, half-worried look crossed his face. “Jesus, you’re stubborn.”

  Tears welled as she thought about all the times Jon had accused her of the same thing. How pathetic to think she would even miss their fights.

  She did a mental calculation of how long it would take to find someone and train them to replace her. Probably six weeks, possibly eight. It seemed like a long time, but she couldn’t simply walk out. And it was better than the alternative: staying. Waiting. Dying a little every day. Or, worse, giving in and embarking on the kind of relationship Jon was open to. Giving him all of herself while she accepted the crumbs from his table.

  I deserve better. And so does he. He just doesn’t realize it.

  Sitting up straighter, she wiped her tears away. She was strong, her mother’s daughter. She could do this.

  JON HAD TO DRIVE INTO THE CITY to find a bar that was open. He ordered a beer with a whiskey shot and knocked them both back in a matter of seconds. He ordered another round and waited for the alcohol to make the world a better place.

  Five beers and five shots later, he still couldn’t get the scene in Gabby’s bathroom out of his mind. He’d never spoken to a woman that way, just as he’d never manhandled anyone the way he’d manhandled Gabby that night in her office. She’d seen the worst of him, that was for sure.

  Don’t worry. She won’t be coming back for a third helping.

  He’d blown it. He’d seen the look in her eyes—he’d hurt her viscerally tonight. Really got at her. He’d meant to, too. Anything to stop her poking and prodding at him.

  God forbid she learned how freakin’ weak he really was. Far better for her to think he was a bully who only wanted her for sex and good times.

  He signaled for another round. Maybe if he drank enough, he could fill the gaping hole in his chest.

  The rest of the night melted into a blur. He had no real recollection of leaving the bar or getting home. He’d been with it enough to get a cab instead of attempting to drive. When he woke it was full daylight and his mouth tasted and felt as though something had died in it. He peered at the clock and groaned.

  It was nearly twelve. His stomach lurched and he took a few deep breaths to get his nausea under control.

  He moved to the edge of the bed and sat up in stages, giving his woozy head a chance to equalize. Finally he was ready to contemplate standing. He didn’t move, however. There didn’t seem much point in diving into the day. He’d planned to spend it with Gabby. Go to Dino’s anniversary party together, head to a movie afterward. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen. He’d be lucky if she so much as smiled at him again.

  If only he hadn’t had another nightmare.

  If only she hadn’t pushed.

  If only he wasn’t complete screwed in the head.

  She’d been trying to help him, and he’d sent her away. He’d seen the sympathy and concern in her eyes and rejected it unequivocally.

  A pathetic voice in the back of his head piped up with an offer of hope. Maybe if he went to her place and tried to explain…

  What would he explain? About his childhood? About the fact that, for the life of him, he didn’t know how to move beyond the rage and hurt that was his father’s legacy? About the fact that he couldn’t look at his brother without feeling profound, bone-deep guilt at his failure to protect him?

  Yeah, that was really going to win her over. That was really going to bring the light of love back to her eyes. What woman could resist the lure of a man who had abandoned his younger brother to brutality? No doubt Gabby would jump him on the spot, she’d be so turned on and touched by his confession.

  You didn’t deserve her anyway.

  A knock at the door brought his head up. His first ridiculously hopeful thought was that it was Gabby, but he quickly dismissed it. There was no reason for her to seek him out after what he’d done.

  He walked to the door and opened it to find Tyler. His brother gave him a once over.

  “Big night?” He didn’t sound surprised.

  “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to talk to you. Can I come in?”

  Jon stepped aside and waved him in. Tyler strode in and surveyed the small space.

  “Cosy,” he said.

  “You want a coffee?”

  “You look like you could do with one.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Jon grabbed a fresh filter and spooned coffee into it.

  “I w
anted to talk to you about Gabby.”

  “What about her?”

  “I want to know if this thing between you is serious. Are you in love with her?”

  He gave Tyler a cool look. “Are you here in your capacity as Gabby’s ex or as her employer?”

  “I’m here as her friend. And yours, if you’ll ever let your guard down enough to let me in.”

  Jon busied himself organizing mugs and milk.

  “And there it is—the patented Jon Adamson silent treatment. Great. A cure for every evil, a solution to every discussion.”

  Jon banged the mugs onto the counter, temper rising. “What do you want me to say? If you’ve spoken to Gabby, you already know I screwed up. You want me to bleed on the rug for you? Fine. I think she’s amazing. I think you were nuts to ever let her slip through your fingers. I feel privileged to have known her, even for a little while. She’s smart and tough and funny and unbelievably hot and for a while I deluded myself into thinking we could have a future together. But the delusion is over.”

  He glared at his brother. “That enough for you, or do you want more?”

  Tyler stared at him, a long, searching look that bored down into Jon’s soul. “What’s going on with you? You think you don’t know how to be happy because we had a shit childhood? You think you’re like the old man, that you’ll turn into some kind of sadistic asshole if you let yourself get close to someone?”

  “I know how to be happy. Gabby made me happy.”

  That shut Tyler up for a moment. Coffee was dripping into the carafe. Jon ran a hand over his bristly chin.

  “She said you’ve been having nightmares.”

  Jon sighed. “Yeah.”

  “What are they about?”

  He shook his head.

  “Mate, you think you’ve got something special going on in your head that I don’t know about? You think I haven’t been there?”

  Jon met his brother’s eye. “It’s different.”

  And it was. He’d been the older brother, the big one, the tough one. The one who was supposed to protect. Tyler didn’t remember, or maybe he did but was prepared to forgive. But Jon wasn’t.

  “You’re like a frickin’ bank vault, you know that?” Tyler said. “Like a brick wall. No wonder she’d rather quit and walk away than try and get through.”