January On Fire: A Firefighter Fake Marriage Romance
Page 14
“You’re full of shit,” Josh hissed. I felt his hands press into my chest and push me back, and it ignited a rage inside of me.
“I love her!” I shouted back.
Everything went perfectly silent and perfectly still. My anger immediately dissolved, and the enormity of what I had just said sunk in.
I had never admitted it out loud before, not even to myself. But now that the words were out there… I realized just how much I really meant it.
Josh’s face immediately softened. The wrinkles of a frown disappeared from his brow, and his mouth dropped open in shock. His arms, which had been raised for a fight, dropped limp at his sides.
“I love Cassidy Laurent,” I repeated. “And I always have.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | CASSIDY
“Cassidy!”
The sound of my mother’s voice calling through my bedroom door stirred me from my sleep. I groaned softly as I blinked my eyes open wearily and reached for the nightstand.
The first thing that my hand landed on was the stem of an empty wine glass. I groaned for a second time as I remembered the two glasses of pinot grigio that I had polished off last night.
That explains the splitting headache…
It had been five days since the family dinner debacle, and over the course of those five days I had probably gotten a combined total of ten hours of sleep.
I hadn’t been able to get that conversation to stop playing over and over again in my head. Every time my head hit the pillow and I pressed my eyes shut, I fell right back down the rabbit hole. Josh’s angry words echoed through my ears. The image of my mother’s hurt and confused face was burned in my memory…
I would toss and turn, trying to block it all out… trying to find some semblance of peace, so that I could fall asleep and forget it all.
The hardest thoughts to block out were the memories of Brady. They’d sneak into my head when I least expected; I’d remember how he had slipped me out of my wedding gown with his eyes closed, or how he’d wrapped me around his shoulders in that alleyway…
As those memories fluttered through my head, I couldn’t help but feel my heart start to lift and my stomach start to fill with hopeful little butterflies. But then I’d hear Josh’s voice again, shouting the word: “mistake!” and all of the light inside of me would dissolve all over again.
“Cassidy!” my mom’s voice called again.
“One sec,” I called back in a raspy voice. I moved my hand around the nightstand some more until I felt the slick screen of my cell phone. I pulled the phone towards the bed and nestled myself back into the cocoon of covers and blankets that I had built for myself.
I clicked on my phone screen. According to the digital clock, it was 8:42 A.M.; I hadn’t slept in that late in years. When Mom was still in treatment, I hadn’t needed an alarm clock… my body had been trained to wake up at 6:45 every morning, to administer her first dose of medication.
I blinked down at my phone, ignoring the sharp pangs of pain shooting through my skull. Underneath the clock display, there was a single notification:
Missed Call from Brady Hudson
He had called every night, like clockwork. And every time, I had stared down at my phone and wondered whether or not I should answer. I wanted to hear his voice so badly… and I wanted to go back to the way that things had been before that stupid dinner.
I’d reach for my phone and start to answer, but then I would stop myself; I would remember the guilt, and I would remember the pain that we had caused… and I would let the call go to voicemail.
“Cass, I’m coming in!” Mom’s voice said through the door.
I tucked my phone under the pillow and sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes just as the door pushed open and Mom stepped into the bedroom.
“Oh, honey…” she said gently. She sat down on the edge of my bed and reached for my hand. “You look like shit.”
“Mom!” I gasped, frowning at her brutal honesty.
“What?” she shrugged. “If cancer taught me anything, it’s that life is too damn short to tip-toe around the truth. What’s going on with you, Cassidy? You haven’t been yourself lately.”
I gulped, looking down at my feet.
“Nothing’s going on,” I said. “I think all of the stress of planning this this wedding just caught up with me…”
“Hmm,” Mom narrowed her eyes at me. I knew she didn’t quite believe my lie. “Did something happen the other night? After Brady and Josh had to leave early to respond to that emergency call?”
“No,” I bluffed unconvincingly.
“Oh come on, Cass,” she rolled her eyes. “I know I’m old, but I’m not stupid. You were obviously upset after they left, and I haven’t seen you smile once since that night.”
“I’m fine,” I assured her. “It was just…” I sighed, too tired to concoct another excuse or lie.
“Let me tell you something,” Mom said, squeezing my hand. Her grip had gotten so strong… she was seeming more and more alive every day. “I never told you this, but a few days before your father and I were supposed to get married… I nearly called off the wedding.”
“What?! Seriously?”
“Yep,” Mom nodded. “Money was tight, and we had to pinch every penny that we had to pay for the wedding.”
I knew all about that; my parents’ humble wedding was part of the reason why Mom had always been so excited about helping me plan my wedding: she wanted me to have the wedding that she never got to have.
“We were so broke that I couldn’t even afford real flowers,” Mom told me. “I had spent hours making bouquets out of pink tissue paper.”
“But--” I frowned. I had seen photos from my parents’ wedding, and my mom had been holding a bouquet of real flowers. My mom smiled and held up her hand, gesturing for me to be patient.
“A few days before the wedding,” she continued, “I was going through some papers that your father had left out, and I found a personal check that he had written. It was a check for three hundred dollars -- which, by the way, was a fortune to us back then.”
“What was it for?” I frowned. I had never heard this story before…
“Well that was the question that was burning through my mind,” Mom said. “I confronted him about it, and he told me some story about how he owed the money to a friend, to settle a bet he had lost…”
“That doesn’t sound like Dad…” I narrowed my eyes.
“I know,” Mom nodded, smiling. “I was furious. Here I was, making tissue paper flowers so that we could save a buck, and your father was being careless with the little bit of money that we did have!”
“So what did you do?”
“I almost called the whole thing off,” Mom shook her head. “I didn’t speak to your father for days. Then I had a change of heart, and decided to go through with it. And I’m glad I did.”
I smiled. I hadn’t heard this story before, but I knew my father well enough to predict how it would end.
“On the morning of our wedding, your father surprised me with real flowers,” Mom smiled, her eyes glistening. “That’s what the $300 check was for; he had gone to the florist and picked out the bouquets as a surprise for me.”
I smiled, thinking of my dad shopping for flowers.
“Listen, Cass,” Mom said. “I’m not sure what’s going on between you and Brady… but I have seen the kind of love that you two have for each other; that’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. Don’t throw that away because of a little misunderstanding.”
My smile faded, and I nodded. Unfortunately, the situation between Brady and I was a little more complicated than a secret flower order or a mysterious $300 check…
“Anyways,” Mom said, sighing. “There’s someone here to see you.”
“What?! Who?”
Mom’s eyes just twinkled mysteriously.
“He said he really needs to talk to you,” Mom said. “I think you shou
ld give him a chance.”
Brady.
My heart swelled in my chest and my pulse started racing.
“Just have an open mind,” Mom smiled, squeezing my hand. Then she added: “He’s waiting for your outside, by the pool.”
She left me alone in my room. I sat up slowly, piecing everything together in my head. Had Brady already talked to my mom? What had he said?
I quickly pulled a flowery sundress over my head, then I ducked into the bathroom and splashed some cold water over my face. I dabbed some concealer over the heavy bags that hung beneath my eyes, then I tied up my dark curls into a messy knot at the back of my neck and I took a deep breath.
Just have an open mind, I repeated my mother’s advice to my own reflection in the mirror. Then I flicked off the light and headed downstairs.
When I stepped through the sliding glass door and into the backyard, I immediately spotted a head of dark hair peeking out from above the top of one of the Adirondack chairs by the pool. I took another heavy gulp of air and started to make my way across the backyard, bracing myself for the impact of seeing Brady again.
You can do this… you can do this… you can--
The man sitting by the pool must have heard me coming, because he stood up. The dark head of hair turned, and I gasped.
“Josh!” I stammered. That wasn’t who I was expecting to see at all…
I stopped in my tracks and stood there, stunned, for several seconds. Then I shook my head and started to turn back towards the house.
“Cass, wait!” he pleaded. “Please, just hear me out…”
“No,” I snapped firmly. “I heard you loud and clear the other night, Josh. I know that you don’t approve of Brady and I getting married, and I know that you think this is a horrible idea--”
“I didn’t come here to tell you any of that,” Josh interrupted me, “Actually, I came here to apologize.”
“Wait… what?” For the second time in a span of thirty seconds, I was completely shocked. “You want to apologize? But… why?”
“Because,” Josh said. “What I said the other night… that was completely uncalled for. I’ve been acting like a total dick lately… to you and Brady.”
“Well… your delivery was a little harsh,” I said. “But what you said wasn’t wrong. Brady and I should have never gotten ourselves into this situation. This whole entire mess was a dumb idea, and we shouldn’t have lied--”
“Cass,” Josh cut me off again. “You were just trying to do what you thought was right. I can see that now.”
I frowned again.
“Why the sudden change of heart?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief. “You were so against us getting married the other night…”
“It wasn’t just about the wedding,” Josh admitted. “It’s complicated… I guess I’ve held onto a lot of resentment towards my brother, ever since our father died. I didn’t realize how bitter and unfair I was being. But then, the other night, when Brady accused me of being jealous… I realized that he was right.”
“What? Really?”
“Yeah,” Josh nodded, looking down at his feet. “Even when we were kids, I was always frustrated by how easy Brady seemed to have it. Everything seemed to fall into his lap… the guy couldn’t make a mistake if he tried. I was always waiting for him to fall; I was always waiting for the day that my brother would fuck up, and it’d be my turn to shine.”
“Josh, that’s…” I bit my tongue, and reminded myself to listen.
“Fucked up?” Josh finished for me. He smiled lightly. “I know. It is pretty fucked up. But I didn’t realize that until a few days ago.”
I took a few steps forward and sat down on one of the Adirondack chairs across from Josh. He took the cue and returned to his own seat, then he took a deep breath before continuing:
“For the longest time, I blamed my brother for my own failures,” Josh said. “But once I sat down and really thought about everything, I realized that it wasn’t Brady’s fault at all. It wasn’t my dad’s fault, either. It was all on me.”
“We’ve known each other for a long time, Cass,” Josh said, looking at up me. “I’ve known you almost as long as I’ve known my own brother…”
“That’s true,” I said with a small smile.
“I feel like I know both of you well enough to know the truth,” Josh continued. “So, I don’t know why it took me so long to admit it to myself. It’s been clear as day this whole time…”
“What are you talking about?”
“You two really care about each other,” Josh said. He said it as if it were a simple, irrefutable fact; as if it was as obvious as the color of the sky.
“I’ve never seen my brother look at someone the way he looks at you, Cass,” Josh said. “You’re the girl he’s been waiting for his entire life. He cares about you so much, and if I hadn’t been so blinded by my own jealousy and insecurity, I would have seen that a long time ago.”
“I know you and I aren’t as close as we all used to be,” he added, “But I get the sense that you feel it, too…”
“Josh, I…”
“Look,” he interrupted me. “I can’t tell you what to do, Cass. And I know it’s not my place to try to persuade you, one way or another. But… I really think you should give my brother a chance. I think you both deserve to see where this could go.”
“But what about my mom?” I asked. “What about this huge lie we’ve been telling everyone?”
“Is it a lie?” Josh asked flatly, blinking up at me. “Or did it become the truth?”
He stood up slowly and started to walk back towards his house. My mind was racing with things I wanted to say, questions I wanted to ask… but my tongue felt too heavy in my mouth, and I remained silent.
I knew that Josh was trying to help, but in way, he had left me feeling more confused than before.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | BRADY
“Can you pass me that spanner wrench?” I called out. My voice echoed under the body of the fire engine. I was positioned on the concrete garage floor underneath the massive metal truck frame. My work clothes were stained with oil, and my neck ached from the strain of holding my head off of the concrete floor.
I heard the shuffle of footsteps in the vehicle bay, then I saw a hand reach underneath the engine. I stretched my arm out, expecting to feel a wrench land in my hand. Instead, I felt the smooth surface of my cell phone.
“What the--”
“Your phone was ringing,” Bryce explained. “Three missed calls in a row.”
Sure enough, I felt the phone vibrate in my palm. I groaned, then I used my legs to crawl forward and pull myself out from underneath the truck.
The bright light of the vehicle bay stung my eyes, and it took several blinks for my pupils to adjust. I blinked down at the phone. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was an 860 area code; that meant it was a local call.
I quickly rubbed the engine grease off of my hands and onto a spare rag, then I used the edge of my thumb to unlock the phone and answer the call.
“Hello?” I said, pinching the phone between my shoulder and my ear.
“Hi, is Cassidy Laurent available?” the voice on the other end of the call asked.
“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong--” I started to say, then I stopped myself. “May I ask what this is about?”
“I’m calling from Elizabeth Park, sir,” the man said. “This is regarding an upcoming reservation that Miss Laurent made. We haven’t been able to reach her at the primary number she provided, but she did give us this number as an emergency contact--”
“Is there something wrong with the reservation?” I asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information. I need to speak with Miss Laurent directly…”
“I’m the groom,” I huffed in annoyance. I pushed myself off of the floor and stifled a groan as I stretched out my stiff neck.
“My apologies!” the man
on the phone gushed. “I didn’t realize…”
“It’s fine,” I said. “So what’s the problem?”
“Well, Mr.--”
“Hudson,” I said. “Brady Hudson.”
“Mr. Hudson,” the man said. “We still haven’t received the final payment for your upcoming reservation. Miss Laurent did pay the first two installments, but unless we receive this final payment, I’m afraid that we’ll be forced to cancel your reservation…”
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
What does that mean? I wondered. Does that mean that Cass is calling off the wedding?
“I’m sorry, sir?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “That missed payment must have just been an oversight.”
I hope that’s all it was…. I thought, but I knew that I didn’t believe my own excuse.
“Can I pay you now? Over the phone?” I asked quickly.
“Of course,” the man said. “We accept Visa, Mastercard, American Express…”
“Great,” I said, patting my pants pocket for my wallet. My pocket was empty, and I pinched my eyes shut, trying to remember where I had left my wallet…
Truck, I reminded myself.
“One second,” I said into the phone. “I just have to find my wallet.”
“Of course, sir…”
I jogged across the vehicle bay, then through the back door that opened out into the staff parking lot. My truck glimmered in the midday sun. I popped open the door and felt a wave of heat that had flooded the cab; the consequence of being sandwiched between the steaming hot asphalt parking lot and the scorching summer sun all afternoon.
My wallet was right where I had left it in the cupholder. I reached for it, and in the process my hand grazed something that had been left behind: a pink hair scrunchie.
Cass… my heart throbbed in my chest.
“Are you ready for my card details?” I said quickly into the phone.
I recited the numbers, then listened as the man on the other line typed them into a computer and ran the transaction.
“Excellent,” he said finally, once everything had been processed. “Your balance is now paid in full.”