“That’s bullshit.”
“Yeah,” he sighs out his agreement. “It is, but I have to trust that she knows what’s best for her daughter.”
Rose doesn’t have a clue what’s best and I learned that the hard way when I caught them together weeks ago and her response was that Emery and I had to stop seeing each other. The thing is, I might like and respect the woman a whole lot more if she would just admit that she wasn’t expecting this to be something she ever had to deal with and she doesn’t know what the right way to handle things is.
She’s not doing that though. She’s standing firm in her belief that this is the way things need to be handled and that in the end, we’re going to have to stop what is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to either of us.
In other words…bullshit.
“We can stand here all day debating the right and wrong of this, Chris, but it won’t solve anything. Just promise me you’ll be there tonight.”
“Fine. I’ll be there, but if you expect me to paint on a happy face and enjoy it when I think that her doing it this way is designed to make us break up, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Grabbing my bag off the chair, I head for the door and the safety that in a few minutes my truck is going to provide, all the while sick to my stomach knowing that when I get to school today, I’m not going to be able to act natural the way I wanted.
That for yet another day in a long few weeks of them, I’m going to have to pretend to be the perfect boyfriend when the reality is, I’m anything but.
I just hope that by the time I get to school and get my arms around my girl, my natural need to touch, feel and love on her will kick in and it won’t feel like a total betrayal of her and what I feel.
There’s been enough of that already and I’m more than a little ready for it to stop.
Emery
Well, this sucks.
I’d been hoping that once I was done at the paper, I’d be able to catch Christian and talk him into coming to dinner. Knowing that if I had him with me for what’s about to happen once I get home, it would go a lot smoother. But when I did bring it up, he’d begged off, explaining that he needed to head to work for his pay check before heading home because his dad wanted face time.
So tackling this alone it is.
Climbing out of the car and pressing the automatic lock button, I take my sweet time heading up the driveway and making my way across the grass, dragging my feet until I’m making short work of the stairs and standing on my porch.
Come on, Emery. You knew deep down this was coming. You wanted it to come. This is your chance to tell Nicholas everything you’ve been holding onto for months. There’s nothing to be scared of.
Regardless of my little pep talk, I’ve been unable to shake the uneasy feeling I’ve had about dinner all day and I have no idea why.
For weeks I’ve been hounding my mom. Begging her to get over her fear of letting me meet her boyfriend and to bring him by. I’d taken it so far as to go snooping around in her room looking for something that might give away a location for him. Coming up empty in my search made me attempt to steal her phone and fail, instead earning a lecture about why it was important that things were happening this way and to just take a breath and be patient.
Easy for her to say. She’s not the one faced with what could possibly be her one shot at a real family. Having her dream come true. She grew up with both of her parents and from what I’ve seen of them during our time together around the holidays before my grandpa died, has always had their acceptance and love.
I want to have that, so sue me if I want to speed up time and make it happen sooner.
Sliding my key into the door and unlocking it, I slip inside quietly, making quick work of the alarm system before tossing my bag on the floor and heading down the hall after doing a quick scan of the living room and finding it empty.
“Mom, you home yet?”
With the dinner she has planned, part of me knows she’s already home, but considering how normally I can hear her making some kind of noise around the house when I first get here and right now I’m not hearing anything but the sound of my own breath, it’s making me wonder.
“In the kitchen, honey!”
Hearing her response right as I hit the kitchen door, I don’t even think before stepping around the corner and walking in. It’s only when I catch movement on the left side of the room that my eyes move from my mom’s place near the oven to the man sitting in the chair.
Nicholas.
I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something familiar about him. Like, I’ve seen him around someplace, but where or when, I don’t know.
Weird.
“Hello Emery.” He says, the corners of his eyes lifting as the smile takes over his face.
He has a nice smile.
“Emery, I was hoping you would have been home before they got here, but now that you are, I’d like you meet Nicholas,” she explains, motioning to the guy with the epic smile before moving her hand across to where another body is waiting in the chair just a little to her right. “And this is his son, Christian.”
Smiling at just the slightest mention of the name, I turn and take a step forward, prepared to meet the eyes of the little dude that sometime soon might just be my brother and when my eyes finally make their way up to the face staring back at me, my blood instantly runs cold.
Christian, my Christian, is sitting in my kitchen.
What the hell?
Who invited him and why didn’t he tell me he was coming before he left school?
Studying him, hoping to find the answers I’m looking for in his eyes, my heart sinks when instead of holding my gaze, he looks away. As his eyes settle on the floor, everything my mom said when she introduced us, finally takes hold.
Nicholas is Christian’s dad.
Our parents are dating.
Oh my God.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Emery
No way.
No. Freaking. Way.
This cannot be happening right now.
There is no way that the Nick my mom has been seeing for the past six months is the same Nick that I’ve spent the same amount of time hearing about.
Nicholas can’t possibly be Christian’s dad.
“Honey, are you okay?”
Oh Mom, I’m dying to say, but have to be content with just thinking. I am so not okay right now.
I know why she’s asking. It’s because I’ve been standing here staring like some kind of fan girl with my feet stuck like glue to the floor, for too long. Five minutes, ten, I have no idea how long I’ve actually been stuck here like this, but I do know that when I am finally able to move again, it’s not going to be toward that table.
Nope. Not gonna sit there because this isn’t really happening right now. I’m dreaming. I must have fallen asleep in class and like always I’m dreaming about seeing Christian, though seeing him like this is definitely not what I was going for.
“Emery, say something. You’re starting to worry me.”
I can hear my mom saying the words, hell, a slight shift of my eyes to the side and I can even see her lips moving as she says them, but I can’t acknowledge it with more than a blink because it would make this entire scene real and it just can’t be.
Great.
Now I can feel her shaking me, trying to get me to give her some kind of sign that I’m not completely catatonic. Too bad. I can’t even give myself what I want right now in getting the hell out of here, much less give anything to her.
I’m dating my mom’s boyfriend’s son.
The boyfriend that she told me last night she was head over heels in love with and could see a future with. The man that when he finally proposed would become my father.
Eww…No. Stepfather.
I’m not turning this into something sicker than it already is.
Despite being completely unable to move, the rest of my faculties seem to be coming back as I f
inally feel my breath as it releases into the now silent room and my eyes shift, searching for the sea blue that has the ability to soothe me, aching to look into them and see with just one look that this is not real. That I’m not alone in this. That he’s as shocked in this moment as I am.
Only that’s not what I find when my eyes finally settle on the face I love so much. He’s moving and coming toward me, which honestly I’m thankful for, but it’s the look on his face as he does it that ruins it.
Pain, hurt, sadness and regret. They’re all there written across his face for the world to see, slamming the reality straight into me like a knife to my heart. One that the closer he gets only seems to break apart and bleed that much more, making my knees buckle and causing the entire room to spin.
Christian…my Mikey, he knew.
The shock I expected to see radiating back at me, it’s not there. All that’s present is the look one gets when something that they’ve been holding back, a truth that for whatever reason they kept a secret, is finally unleashed. A combination of relief and regret and it’s the one combination that completely does me in.
Giving into the sensation of falling that I experienced the second my knees began to buckle, I prepare for the feel of the cold ceramic floor hitting my skin, but before I can welcome the pain that comes after completely collapsing, hands are gripping me, attempting to pull me back up.
Strong hands with the fingers raw from all of the hours spent playing guitar together. Familiar hands, and right now, the very last hands I want to be feeling.
He need to let me go. Let me fall and stand back while I collect myself enough to get the hell out of this room.
“Emery…”
No way. He doesn’t get to put his hands on me, have my body betray me by leaning into them and then use that velvety smooth voice on me. It doesn’t matter how soothing it is. It’s a mirage. None of it is real.
His voice and the effect it has on me is as big a lie as him loving me.
This cannot be happening.
I met a boy, getting to know him over time and not allowing myself to fall in love with him right away. Taking things slow and making him work for it until it was completely impossible to deny what was taking place between us.
I followed the rules. I did everything the right way.
Christian was supposed to be my reward for being smart and doing things differently.
Not my biggest nightmare.
Lifting me up into his arms, I feel the first tear fall, forcing its way through the shock to my system and solidifying the moment as real. Willing my arms to move so I can force myself away from him, even if it only ends with me on the ground, nothing happens. So I try again, this time the hurt and pain releasing in the form of a scream, but when the sound reverberating in my brain doesn’t affect anyone else in the room, I realize that it too is only going to be for me.
I’m completely alone with the pain that’s ripping me apart inside.
Carrying me out of the room as my mom mumbles a lame apology for the way I’m acting, the voice of the only other person in the room speaks and it hits me. He doesn’t sound as evil as I’d been expecting he would now that everything is out in the open. Nicholas Cayne sounds the opposite of evil.
He sounds sweet.
“It’s okay, Rosie. This is just a little overwhelming. Christian’s been the same since the two of you met a few weeks ago.”
A few weeks ago.
What I thought couldn’t get any worse, does as I’m hit with another heaping dose of reality. My mom went out for the night a few weeks ago and even though I’d texted and called Christian, he’d never answered back to my messages of wanting to come over. I always thought it was weird, but since everything went back to normal again pretty much right after, I’d let it go.
Now I know why.
He met my mom that night and has been holding on to it ever since.
Finally reaching the top of the stairs, Christian moves quickly once on the carpet, in the time it takes for me to finally blink using his foot to kick open my very familiar door before making his way in and placing me down on the bed.
Lowering himself once I’ve somehow managed to get my body to cooperate enough to turn away toward the wall, I listen to the unsteady rhythm of his breathing, not daring to turn around to see the look that must match it on his face.
It’s only when I find my way past the shock to the anger and rage taking over with the realization that he kept this from me, that he rips away the quiet and speaks.
“Emery, I’m so sorry.”
Christian
This shouldn’t be happening to us. We don’t deserve it, Emery especially. I would give anything to go back in time to a few weeks ago and say or do something to prevent what she’s having to deal with now.
“I’m sorry.”
“Go—away.”
In this situation there really isn’t a whole lot to be thankful about, but hearing her speak, even if it is muffled and she’s telling me to get lost, makes me happy. It means that she’s finally getting past what happened downstairs, even if it may take her a whole lot longer to come to terms with it.
I needed her to be okay. Seeing her standing there as rigid as the stone at our spot, with no movement, visible breathing or a look in her eyes to let me know she was still in there, made me feel helpless. Picking her up and getting her away from everything down there was the only thing I could do after catching her before she fell that was able to alleviate it.
When my mom died I’d felt the same way, but this, seeing her crumble right in front of me and it being so fresh, tore me in half.
This never should have happened and the worst part is, it’s not even over.
“I can’t do that. Not until we talk.”
“I have nothing,” she answers coldly before whipping around in the bed and leveling me with an angry glare. “To say to you. Get out.”
“I can’t do that, Em.”
“Fine. Then I will.”
Moving as she attempts to sit up, I block her from being able to get around me. Grabbing ahold of her once she’s in a sitting position, knowing it’s going to come back and bite me, I pull her close and hold on for dear life.
Struggling at first, feeling the strength in her fists as she slams them against my chest, using everything she’s got to try and hurt me, I refuse to let go and hold on tighter. She can do this all she wants. She can’t do any more damage to me than I’ve already done to myself.
After another attack to my chest that gets nowhere, she relents and lets her body sag and fall against mine. Gripping tighter and pulling her as close into me as I can, amazed when she doesn’t fight me, but instead seems to burrow closer, I close my eyes as our bodies begin shaking under the force of the sobs she finally lets escape.
“Y-you k-knew.” She stammers through her tears and the truth physically makes my heart want to detach from my chest, but I don’t say or do anything to acknowledge it.
I can’t. There’s nothing I can say or do that can erase the fact that she’s right. I did know and worse, I kept it from her. As pretty a picture as I would like to be able to paint right now, I’ve got nothing.
I am nothing. Maybe even less than nothing, if that’s even a thing.
Feeling her hands ball up and knowing what’s going to come next, I allow her to hit my chest again, wanting to experience whatever sliver she’s willing to show me of the pain I caused.
Deserving every bit of her anger and pain.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I couldn’t.”
“But why, Chris? Why couldn’t you tell me? Why did you let me find out this way?”
Despite knowing that our parents are the reason for my keeping silent, I throw myself under the bus instead. If I hadn’t been so afraid to lose her to begin with, none of this would be happening. So this—all of it—is on me.
“Because I didn’t want to give you up, and I knew you would have.”
“You
’re wrong.”
“No, baby, I’m not. You’ve been telling me for months how happy your mom has been since she started seeing my dad, even though I didn’t know it was him at the time. You couldn’t wait to meet him so you could thank him. If I had said it was my dad, you wouldn’t have hesitated. You would have given up on me. I couldn’t lose you. I can’t.”
The air feels thick around us, but before I can give her a chance to respond, I need to get the rest out. If her next words are that she’s heard enough and wants me to leave, I won’t be able to do it. Not until I’ve said it all.
“I won’t lose you.”
“How long, Christian? How long have you known about them?”
“A few weeks.”
There’s no missing the sharp intake of breath. The same sound she made when she walked into the kitchen and saw all of us sitting the table and her mother introduced us.
A readymade family, hand delivered with a big fucking bow.
Emery, I love you. Let’s be a family.
Literally.
It sounds disgusting to my own ears, but not because there’s anything wrong with being with her or wanting those things in the future. It’s because even though there’s nothing legally wrong with what’s been going on between us, it’s still going to end.
The two people downstairs will make sure of it.
“We need to go back down. I’m pretty sure my mom is going out of her mind wondering what the hell is wrong with me.” Pulling away and out of my arms, she tosses her feet over me and stands, but before she can make a beeline for the door, I reach out and stop her.
“Not yet. We still need to talk about this.”
“We will, but not now. I’ve had more than I can take for one night and I’ve ruined things enough. I need to go down and meet your dad. Do this over. Everything else can wait.”
“Do you mean that?”
There’s a finality in her tone and if she thinks for a second that she’s going to go down there, pretend for our parents and then disappear from my life again when I leave, she’s got another thing coming.
The Space In Between Page 25