by Chloe Walsh
Now that really was a blow.
"I can't believe you just said that to me," I choked out.
Of all the things in the world he could say, he used the most hurtful one.
No, I had no clue how he felt or was feeling. But I was here. I was standing by him and I was desperately trying to make our marriage work.
The guilt in his eyes as he looked at me only maddened me. He had no right to throw that kind of a comment in my face. I was thankful I didn’t know how he felt. I didn’t want to be in a horrible, life-altering club he belonged to. And I wouldn’t change places with him for the world, but dammit, I was his wife and I was putting one hundred and fifty percent into making this marriage work. I thought it only fair he did the same.
My family were important to me. I loved them to death. We might not be perfect, but they were my blood and I cherished them. I understood he didn’t feel the same about his, but he could make an effort for me. Nothing seemed to be about me. I felt like a fucking servant to his feelings and I hated it. I was done feeling this way.
"It's not all about you, Jordan," I heard myself hiss, regretting the words as they poured out of my mouth, but unable to stop them. The dam that held all of my truths and feelings inside had well and truly burst open. "You're not the only person suffering here!" My body was shaking, my heart hammering against my ribcage. "And you're not the only one who gets to make the decisions in this relationship!"
"Me?" he shot back, clearly outraged. "I'm busting my ass to make you happy, Hope!"
"By blocking me out?" I threw my head back and laughed harshly. "And making decisions about our future without consulting me? Oh yeah, because that makes me so fucking happy, Jordan!"
Jordan's face turned purple. "I'm here, aren’t I?" he snarled, running a hand through his curls. "Dammit, Hope."
"It's not enough!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
"Okay, Hope, I think you need to take a breather," Annabelle chimed in, tone worried. Walking over to where I was standing, she placed a hand on my shoulder and said, "Why don’t you just go upstairs and take a minute to calm down. I'll talk to Jordan."
Insulted and beyond aggravated, I roughly shoved her arm off my shoulder and turned my anger on her.
"Why don’t you go upstairs?" I bit out, glaring. "Or better yet, why don’t you just go, period!" The hurt in her blue eyes was evident as she looked at me, but I was beyond caring at this stage. "You don’t belong here," I added. "You're not even family, so just go away!"
"She is my family," Jordan snarled, sounding more furious than I had ever heard him. "Her and Ryder. And she is always welcome in my home. They were my family when everyone in my life turned their backs on me."
"I didn’t!" I screamed right back at him. My eyes were burning with tears that threatened to spill over. I wouldn’t dare allow it. Not now. I was too angry to cry. "I never once turned my back on you." Furious, I lost every ounce of my frazzled self-control and let every bit of my hurt and pain drip from my tongue like poison. "You walked away from me! You. Not me, Jordan. Never me. You turned your back on us. On all of the people who care about you. You made the decision that we weren't enough to help you through it and you walked away. I'm not blaming you for doing what you did. I get that was what you needed to happen in order to survive what you have, but don’t you dare stand here and try and put the blame on me."
The sound of Ryder's startled cries brought me back down to earth with a bang. Immediately, guilt filled my body, threatening to swallow me up whole.
Ashamed of myself for raising my voice and waking the baby, I mumbled a quick apology to Annabelle before I turned on my heels and rushed upstairs to our bedroom.
Closing the bedroom door behind me, I flung myself down on the bed and remained completely still, not moving a muscle as I desperately tried to figure out where everything had gone so horribly wrong. I felt like running home to my childhood room and burying myself under my comforter. Childhood was so much easier than this bullshit, bill-paying, tax robbing, descending path to mortality.
Everything was better when I was little. I had my parents to do the worrying for me. All I had to do was be a kid.
Now?
Now everything was screwed up and cloudy and I couldn’t see a straight line through the mess I had managed to get myself sucked into.
Chapter Thirty
JORDAN
"Are you just going to stand here?" Annabelle demanded when she stalked back into the living room with a startled looking Ryder in her arms. "Or are you going to go up those stairs and make things right with your wife!"
Sighing wearily, I sank down on the couch and dropped my head in my hands. Everything was so messed up. I couldn’t think straight. Anxiety and adrenalin were coursing through my veins and I was craving something fierce.
"Jordan," Annie snapped when I didn’t answer her. "You can't leave it like this. You have to talk to her."
"I don’t have anything left in me," I confessed. "I'm so fucking tired, Annie."
"You chose this," she replied, this time in a gentler tone. "You said you were ready for this."
"Yeah?" I hissed, running my hands through my hair in frustration. "Well maybe I was wrong."
"I know you don’t mean that," she whispered, sinking down on the couch beside me. "That woman upstairs has been your whole focus these past six years. And now you have her back, you're lying to her? Avoiding her?" She shook her head. "I don't understand."
"I can't go there," I bit out. "I can't be around those people."
"They're her family, Jord," Annabelle stated calmly. "It's kind of a package deal when you marry into a tight knit family like the Carters’."
"I can't do it," I choked out. "I am so fucking close to losing my goddamn mind here, Annie. I am hanging onto my sobriety by the skin of my teeth when all I want to do is find the nearest bar and drink myself into oblivion."
"It won't help," she whispered. "And it won't change your past."
She was right.
Of course, she was fucking right.
It still didn’t change the way I felt though.
"Tell you what," she said then. "The next time they invite you over there, I'll come, too."
"What, and be my bodyguard?" I shot back, smirking now.
"If that's what you need," she countered with a smile. "
"Thanks," I sighed. "But I can't ask you to hold my hand every time I'm put in an uncomfortable situation."
"You're my best friend," she replied, blue eyes heated and locked on my face. "There's nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and if I have to stand and face Kyle Carter and every one of his duplicates for you, then I will." She shifted Ryder into her other arm and reached her small fist towards me. "Teammates?"
"Always," I whispered, fist thumping her back.
Hope
I could hear hushed voices coming from downstairs so I grabbed a pillow and held it over my head. I didn’t want to hear what they were saying to each other. I wanted no part of it.
Pulling out my phone, I debated calling Teagan, but then thought better of it. She already wasn’t keen on Jordan. If I told her about this fight, she'd hold it against him forever. I couldn’t talk to my family either because as mad as I was at Jordan, I still wanted to protect him. I didn’t want anyone to think badly of him.
Without giving much thought to what I was doing – or considering the repercussions of my actions – I opened my messages and tapped out a quick text before pressing send.
Six words was all the message contained. But I knew deep down those six words would change everything. The truth was, there was only one person in the world I wanted to talk to right now.
Hope: I really need my friend tonight.
Seconds later, my phone pinged in my hand.
Hunter: Holy shit, that was fast. Didn’t you just leave here?
His response made me smile.
Hope: Yep. You still at 13th street?
Hunter: Hell yeah. I've got a bet going
with Derek to see how long it takes Teegs to crack up and smash the board over Kyle's head.
Hope: Oh, yeah? And how's that going for you?
Hunter: Derek has ten bucks on it happening in the next fifteen minutes, but I'm holding out a little longer. I know our girl's got stamina when she's winning. I'm betting on 30 minutes.
Hope: Lol.
Hunter: What's wrong, HC?
What was wrong? My entire life…
Hope: Why would anything be wrong?
Hunter: I'm giving you a "don't bullshit me" look right now. Talk, Carter.
I sighed heavily. Why did he always seem to know when something was wrong with me? And why did I always want to tell him exactly what?
Hope: I just need a friend tonight, that's all.
Hunter: Then feel free to use me for as long as you like. Your whole life, if you want...
My pulse raced erratically as I read then reread his words before responding.
Hope: Hunter...
Hunter: I'll be good.
Hope: Thank you.
I paused and then quickly tapped out another message.
Hope: I'm lonely, Hunter.
Hunter: Want me to come and break you out of the tower of doom, Cinderella?
His response made me smile, and knowing he was on the other end of my phone settled the lonely feeling inside of me.
Hope: Cinderella? Try Rapunzel, douchebag.
Hunter: Wanna hear something that's both depressing and wildly amusing?
Hope: Always.
Hunter: I lost the bet.
Seconds later, a picture message came through. I clicked on the link and burst out laughing when the image of Teagan smashing the monopoly board over my father's head filled the screen.
Hope: Omigod. Is he bleeding?
When he didn’t respond straight away, my heart sank. It sank further as another minute passed by. But just when I was about to give up on him and toss my phone on my nightstand, it rang loudly.
Hunter's name appeared on the screen and I pushed accept and pressed it to my ear. "Hello?" I spluttered, desperately trying to calm my racing heart.
"Sorry about that," he chuckled. "The she-devil caught me laughing at her and rushed me with a chopstick."
"Oh my god." I laughed loudly at the thought of Teagan chasing Hunter around my parent's kitchen before covering my mouth to muffle the sound. "Did she get you?"
"Do you really need to ask that?" Hunter replied, and I could tell he was smiling from his tone. "She's like a miniature, ninja assassin – of course she fucking got me."
"Where?" I laughed.
"My ass," he confirmed. "Thankfully, just the left cheek. She promised to ram it up, and I quote, the highest part of my hole." He put on an Irish accent to say that last bit and had me in near convulsions.
"Oh my god," I laughed, biting down on my knuckles to control myself. "Her hormones are driving her crazy"
"Don’t blame pregnancy on this," he countered, laughing. "That girl is batshit crazy on a good day."
That was true. Teagan Messina had a temper that rivaled an aggressive animal. She might look like a cute, little Maltese puppy, but she had the temperament of a rabid Pitbull.
I loved her for it.
"I've been thinking about what you said," I whispered, biting down on my bottom lip. "And you're right. I want my friend back."
"Which one?"
"You, dummy," I shot back, smiling. "I want us to have what we used to have," I added. "You know? Before…"
"I know what you mean," Hunter replied, tone serious now. "And I want that, too. I miss being with you."
"But it's different now," I interrupted, needing to put this out there before I lost my nerve. "And I need you to promise me something first."
"List your demands, HC," he chuckled.
I clenched my eyes shut and blurted out the words, "Promise you won't fall in love with me," before cringing in embarrassment.
Hunter was silent for a long time before finally saying, "You seem very sure of yourself, HC."
"I'm serious," I whispered. "You can't ever fall in love with me, Hunter. It will ruin everything, and I don’t want to lose you again." I need you in my life. "If we want to be friends, this has to be purely platonic."
"Duly noted, HC," he replied. "But you'll have to promise the same thing."
I frowned. "Come again?"
"You can't fall in love with me, either," he said with a teasing lilt to his tone. "I know it's going to be a damn near impossible task since I'm such an awesome fucking person with irresistible characteristic traits, but you've got to try your best to resist the urge."
"You're so dumb," I laughed. "Okay. I'll try if you will."
"So, friend," he mused. "Since we're friends again, do you want to talk about whatever it is that happened that has you all riled up?"
"You called me," I accused.
"You needed me," he shot back calmly.
I was stumped.
I did need him.
To talk to, at least.
"Then talk," I heard myself say. "Please."
And he did.
He talked and talked until my eyelids fluttered closed and sleep caught up with me.
Chapter Thirty-One
HOPE
"Hey, this is Jordan Porter. I can't get to my phone right now. Leave your name and number and I'll get back to you when I can…beep."
"Hey, it's me," I whispered into the phone. "I was just wondering what time you were coming home tonight?" Tucking my feet beneath me, I leaned back against the couch and closed my eyes. "We're going to have to talk about this because– beep – I'm lonely," I whispered before ending the call and tossing my phone down beside me.
Two weeks had passed since our fight, and nothing had been resolved.
Jordan was still freezing me out, still keeping me at arm's length, and I still felt like I was slowly dying inside. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
Every day that passed caused the hope inside of my heart that we could somehow persevere and get past this to flicker and fade.
The doorbell sounded then, loud and obnoxious, cutting through my aching thoughts.
I didn’t have to get up to know who was at our door.
Another freaking one of his sober prodigies no doubt.
This house seemed to have a revolving door for broken humans. Jordan was a substance abuse and a victims of sexual abuse counselor, and apparently a pretty damn good one. He healed people. He made them feel better. But he couldn’t heal the rift that was growing in our marriage. He couldn’t heal himself. See, he was good and pure and brilliant. I was a professional liar, paid to invent fiction, while my husband went out in the world and make it a better place. I felt both inferior and insecure around him now. His goodness shone bright and brought to light the ugliness inside of me.
Maybe I had been naïve in thinking Jordan and I were beginning to make progress before, but that naivety was certainly gone now.
The progress we had been making was fading fast, disappearing at a rapid rate every time one of my many calls went unanswered, and every night I went to bed alone.
I was trying to do what Annabelle said, and give him space to work whatever problem he was having out on his own, but it was hard when I felt more and more isolated.
I didn’t belong in this house, I never really had, and now with this ridge between us, I felt even more alien here.
The doorbell rang again and I bit back the urge to scream, "Fuck off" at the top of my lungs. Knowing that whoever was on the other side of the door would know there was someone in here was exactly why my pajama clad ass remained on the couch with my mouth firmly shut.
The ringing doorbell was replaced with window banging and I groaned into my hands.
Jesus…
"You do realize I can see you in there," a familiar voice called out from the nearby window, causing me to balk and my heart to jackknife in my chest.
My gaze went straight to the bay win
dow, and sure enough, there he was, standing in the driveway with a cigarette dangling from his lips.
"Hunter?" Springing to my feet, I walked over to the window and gaped out at him. "What are you doing here?"
"I've had an epiphany," he called back, eyes locked on me through the glass.
"An epiphany?" I shook my head in confusion. "About what?"
"About your book," he replied, smirking.
"My book?" I squeaked.
"Yeah, I know where you're falling flat," he shot back. "So, go and get your laptop, planner, and all those stickers and scented markers you need when you're writing and let's go."
"Go?" I gaped at him. "Go where?"
"Home," Hunter told me, blue eyes piercing through the glass between us as they bore into mine.
"Home," I repeated, whispering the word almost longingly. I cast a glance around the living room before turning my attention back to the man outside my window.
Peace settled inside of me then. A thick cloak of comfort washed over me as I stared back at him. There was no judgment in those blue eyes, no anger, resentment, or pain. All I could see when I looked into his eyes was… unconditional acceptance.
I wanted the friendship this man was offering to me.
I wanted to be that carefree version of myself when I was around him.
Texting him had changed something inside of me. It was like I had made a monumental decision about my future and I had decided that I wanted him in it.
"Okay," I whispered, nodding. "I'm coming."
Lucky
"When did you do all this?" Hope gasped as she knelt over the coffee table in South Peak Road and gazed down at the countless pages and sticky-notes cluttering the table.
"Last night," I replied, sinking down on the couch behind her.