Cards of Love: Three of Swords

by Willow Winters

  “If I’d seen that message, I would have told your ass to stay where you were.” I tell her the raw truth in a way I hope she doesn’t fight.

  “You saw it, Madox. I know you saw it and you didn’t answer me, because you didn’t care if I left. You assumed I’d come back.” Her voice is firm, just like her resolve to leave me again. I already know that’s what she’s doing, and I don’t know how I can hold on to her. I can never hold on to her.

  “There was no fucking text message. You left because that’s what you do.” Before the words even leave my mouth, I already regret them. They’re harsh and brutal, and they spill from me out of hurt and the desire to hurt her back. “You leave people. That’s what your mother taught you to do.”

  Regret. It’s instant regret.

  “I don’t mean to hurt you.” I barely get the words out and then shove the next sentence out as fast as I can, “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to run away anymore.”

  The mere inches separating us are both hot and cold. And as I reach out for her, she steps back.

  Don’t leave me.

  “You’re right,” she says in a strained voice as she nods.

  Don’t leave me.

  “I do always run. And that’s why this has to stop.”

  Don’t leave me.

  “You told me to tell you to stay, so stay,” my voice begs her. I have to grip the chair from grabbing on to her, from physically keeping her from leaving.

  “I asked for time.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she tells me, “I didn’t want to fight, Madox.”

  I bite my tongue, holding in the bitter comment that I’ve given her three years.

  “Don’t leave me,” I tell her just barely above a whisper and that’s when she cries, “I’m sorry, Madox. I need to be okay on my own.”

  I want to tell her that she is. That I’m the one who’s not okay. But I can’t. I can’t do anything but stand there gripping the chair as she cries harder when I say nothing. And then she leaves me. I watch her leave this time, and I hate myself.

  I hate the person I am. I hate that I can’t show her I’m the one who’s not okay.

  I’m the one who needs her to stay.

  Chapter 14

  Sophie

  Many fear Death when drawn, but don’t. It merely signifies something is close to the end. Something is changing, and nothing’s the same. There is beauty in death and death spares no one, but with every end comes a new beginning.

  I hate myself. I hate how weak I am. I felt so strong and put together when I was far away from here. I fooled myself into thinking I knew who I was and that I could stand on my own.

  But here I am, crying in my car before a work dinner because I walked away from the man I love.

  I’m worried I don’t know how to be in a relationship without fighting. I’m worried I don’t know how not to run away from my problems. I’m worried if I don’t go back to Madox immediately, he’ll stop loving me. And I desperately want to hear him say those words to me, to see him when he says it, to kiss him when he says it. I’m just afraid. I’m so fucking weak for this man, but I don’t want to be. I just want to love him and be loved by him.

  One more deep breath and I touch up the concealer under my eyes, using the rearview mirror before heading into the restaurant.

  It’s the same place Madox took me to two days ago. I’m really starting to hate fate. She thinks she’s so fucking funny.

  Another deep breath, and I put on a bit of mascara.

  One last deep breath, and I climb out of my car. There’s a bite in the air so I pick up my pace, trying not to think about Madox and forcing a smile as the doorman lets me in to the restaurant.

  “I’m meeting a party; I believe it’s under Adrienne Hart?”

  “Ah, yes,” the maître d’ says and smiles brightly, graciously not saying anything about how I bumped into him two days ago when I walked out of those front doors crying. “Right this way.” He’s all politeness as he walks me back to a private room.

  I expect the table to be large, but it’s not.

  My pace slows, as does my heartbeat when I see the two of them waiting.

  Adrienne, with pearls and a simple black dress. Her head held high as she talks to the man next to her.

  Although it’s the back of his head, I already know it’s Madox. By the way he holds himself, it’s more than obvious to me. I can hear the timbre in his voice when he says something.

  Oh my fucking God. I can’t breathe.

  My mouth dries as I’m ushered to the third chair at the table and I keep my gaze on Adrienne.

  Don’t freak out. I breathe in and out slowly. Anger slowly drips into my blood. He better not have interfered with my work. Please, for fuck’s sake. I will murder him.

  My throat is tight when I take my seat. I’m stiff and my body is ice cold as I avoid Madox’s prying gaze. I can feel his eyes on me, but I can’t even look at him.

  “Sophie dear, I’m so happy you could make it tonight,” Adrienne says sweetly, like there’s nothing wrong in the least, and I force my lips into a tight smile. My gaze flicks to Madox. My heart beats once.

  His gaze is narrowed, his forehead creased.

  My heart beats even harder, even heavier.

  “I’d like you to meet my son,” she says although her voice barely registers.

  My heart beats a third time.

  This can’t be real.

  Please. Her son?

  My tight smile falters when I look at him. I don’t know what to do or say. But all I can think is that he set this up.

  That I didn’t earn my job. That I didn’t get here because I deserved it. That I was a fool to think I’d finally made it on my own.

  Suddenly my lips feel dry, and I lick the bottom one as Madox tears his gaze from me to face his mother. “Madox, this lovely lady is Sophie. She’s recently been hired by the company I bought a while back that I told you about. The design and branding firm, do you recall?”

  With a racing pulse, I look between the two of them. Does he not know?

  My head is spinning, and I’m lost in a blur of questions.

  “Madox,” I say his name and I try to keep it polite, but still it comes out like a question, his name is uttered like a plea.

  “I already know Sophie, mother,” Madox informs his mother in a tone that’s far less than pleasant, and instantly I look down to the table, feeling smaller by the second.

  “What are you doing?” Madox’s voice is hard. At first I think his question is for me and I’m ready to lay into him and defend myself, but it’s not.

  “What do you mean?” His mother’s voice is an octave higher than I’ve heard before. The voice of a liar.

  “I don’t have time for this. What. Did. You. Do?” His voice is harder; firmer, with no forgiveness. It’s nearly cruel.

  I’ve never seen his mother or seen them together. It’s nauseating to watch. There is absolutely no love between them.

  “Madox, please.” She merely admonishes him with disgust in her voice.

  Slowly I find my own backbone, looking between the two of them and still feeling sick to my stomach. Of course the waiter would come over the second I start to speak.

  “We’re not interested at the moment,” I bite out, and then feel awful for snapping at the innocent man. “I’m sorry,” I’m quick to add. “We just need a minute.” As soon as the waiter’s back is turned, I look back between the two of them. Madox looks nothing like her, but he’d always told me he was his father’s son.

  “I deserve an explanation,” I tell them, and my voice is hard but just. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Nothing.” Adrienne is the first to speak, raising both of her hands and feigning innocence. “I had no idea the two of you knew each other. I simply wanted you two to meet.”

  Madox considers his mother for all of a second before turning his attention to me.

  “I’m sorry,” he tells me. “I had no idea my mothe
r brought you here.”

  Brought me here.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  I was right. I didn’t earn my position. She knew who I was. She did this for him.

  His mother starts to talk, but even I know there’s no way this is a coincidence.

  Madox’s patience is nowhere in sight. “Just tell the truth for once in your fucking life.”

  “Don’t speak to me like that,” his mother hisses.

  The tension at the table is palpable.

  “I think he feels betrayed,” I speak up, feeling an ache in my heart, a hole that grows larger with every second. “Just as I do, and I can’t figure out why you would do such a thing. I’m not angry at you for putting me into this very,” I make sure I lean forward and emphasize the next word, “uncomfortable position.” I have to swallow and when I do, both of them try to speak but I cut them off. “I am not finished.”

  Silence. The entire room is silent.

  “Madox is a good man,” I start to say, looking Adrienne in her eyes, noting how she still holds herself prim and proper as I continue, “to his core. And it’s obvious you’ve set this entire reunion up.” I glance at Madox, gauging his expression. If he knew, I’ll be crushed. Truly crushed that he would set me up to think I had earned this position.

  “I feel used,” I say and hate that the emotion comes through, “and I don’t know why you think it’s okay to lie.” Swallowing thickly, I feel the need to add, “Your son is the best thing that ever happened to me. He is genuine and kind, and he doesn’t deserve to be lied to. And neither do I.”

  Putting my hands up in defense I add, “I know there’s a lot between you two, but if you were more sincere, Adrienne, I know things wouldn’t be as bad as they are. And I certainly don’t have to sit here and be a spectator to this.”

  I don’t know how they got this way. I don’t know the details. But I do know I don’t deserve to sit here and feel this fucking uncomfortable. I don’t deserve to be used, either.

  “I have to go,” I announce. Taking a deep breath, I look Adrienne in the eyes and say, “I can’t work for you any longer. I’m sorry.” As soon as the words have left me, it stings.

  Goodbye dream job.

  Goodbye New York.

  My gaze shifts to Madox, who still looks nothing but pissed. “Goodbye, Madox,” I whisper.

  Chapter 15

  Madox

  The Knight of Cups is a card I would love to draw every time. He’s adventurous, romantic and always follows his heart. What makes this card so meaningful though, is its praise and acknowledgement of how powerful raw emotions can be.

  “I don’t understand what the hell you did.” I say the words as calmly as I can manage to my mother, feeling a wave of betrayal but also something else. She brought Sophie here? She knew about her?

  “Madox, please.” My mother’s voice is tinged with agony and it makes me pause after I stand up, ready to leave her.

  “I promise you, if I did anything-”

  “If?” The word comes out harder than I intend, and she flinches. She brought Sophie here. She brought her back to me. I can’t hold on to the anger, knowing my mother brought Sophie back to me. Regardless of what her reasoning was, so long as I can catch her and keep her from running off again.

  My mother’s hesitant to reach out and take my hand. I can’t remember the last time she’s touched me other than the polite hugs we exchange in public when I agree to see her. “I just want a chance…”

  “To what?” I ask her, the words pushed through my teeth. “To lie? To pretend like you did nothing?” My words turn harder, and the memories come flooding back. She didn’t even cry at his funeral. Behind closed doors she didn’t mind being real with my father. And the real version of her is a person I want nothing to do with.

  “I have to go get her,” I tell her before I can go back to what used to be.

  My mother doesn’t let go of my hand, although she still hasn’t stood up.

  “I can explain, Madox.” My mother’s words are hushed as she leans across the table, her forehead marred with a deep crease while worry is etched into her eyes. “Please, I can make this right, I just need to speak with Sophie.”

  I don’t even dignify her request with a response. I’ve already waited too long, knowing Sophie. If I wait any longer, I may never see her again.

  Just the thought of her hiding away until she can leave sends a visceral response through my chest. My pace quickens, my body fighting the urge to run.

  “Madox, please, I’m trying to help!” My mother’s cry carries through the restaurant as I leave the private room, doors swinging behind me.

  By the time I’ve exited the front doors, I spot her by her car, and then I do run. I run as quickly as I can, stepping out in front of a car pulling in for valet parking. My palm hits the hood of their car, only a few feet away as they slam on the brakes.

  Shit.

  They stop in time, but I don’t bother stopping to apologize.

  “Are you okay?” the doorman asks and calls out, “Sir!” but I don’t respond. They don’t matter. So long as I can run to her, that’s all that matters.

  Two rows up, Sophie’s staring over her shoulder at me, the car door open and the breeze blowing her hair behind her.

  Don’t run from me, Sophie, I pray as I stare straight ahead at her, moving even faster, ignoring another beep of a horn and a couple I brush past to get to her more quickly.

  “Sophie!” I call out to her in the crisp night air. My lungs burn from the chill and exertion. Surprise flashes in her eyes and I can see her swallow; I can see the pain lingering in her bright blue eyes.

  “Madox.” She says my name reverently as she closes her door, not getting in and turning to face me instead. Her arms wrap around herself and she takes two steps toward me by the time I stop in front of her.

  “Don’t leave.” The words slip from me before I can say anything else, and I take her arms in my hands, staring into her doe eyes. “Don’t leave.”

  My heart pumps hot blood, hard and fast. My body is ringing and my mind screaming, it’s now or never.

  “Did you know?” she asks me quietly, and it takes me a second to realize she’s referring to my mother and the shit she pulled.

  “I still don’t understand what the hell you were doing there.”

  “You didn’t know?” she continues to question as if I would lie to her.

  “I had no fucking idea you knew my mother, let alone that she hired you.”

  She considers me for a moment and then nods her head, looking as if she’s going to turn around and get back in her car she tells me, “That’s all I needed to know.”

  “I want you to stay. You told me to tell you; here I am.” My voice raises when she doesn’t answer me. “I would do anything to keep you. Stay with me. Whatever happened in there doesn’t matter. None of it matters.”

  I watch as she swallows and then takes a half step closer to me. “It mattered to me,” she says softly. Her lips part but she doesn’t speak, looking back at the doors to the restaurant. “I thought…”

  “I know. I know, Soph. I don’t know why my mother does the shit she does, but I understand if you’re feeling low right now.” I try to phrase my next words the right way, but I don’t know how to say what I’m feeling. I just want to be her person. I want her to let me love her.

  “I don’t want to fight, Madox,” she says weakly, wrapping her arms tighter around herself and it’s then that I note how cold it is. Instinctively I try to take off my jacket, but I’m not wearing it. Fuck. I left it back in the restaurant.

  Can nothing go right when it comes to us?

  “Let’s go back inside. We don’t have to fight.”

  “We always end up fighting, and I feel like--”

  “The reasons we fought back then… it wasn’t dumb shit, Soph. We both went through rough shit and we were there for each other, but we were hurting.” I nearly swallow my next words, but she still loo
ks like she’s going to run. “I hurt worse without you. I’m hurting now. I’m asking you to stay because I need you. I’m not okay.”

  Her baby blue eyes widen as she looks up at me, clinging to my words.

  “I realized something about myself. The way I handled things back then… When you walked away, there were things I could have said. Words that would have made you stay, because you needed to hear them. I hope I’m saying the right ones now. I don’t want you to leave here without me. I don’t want you to walk away without knowing I want you and I love you, and whatever shit my mother is doing, I don’t care about it or her. I just want you.”

  “Madox,” she pleads with me as she wipes her eyes and I don’t know what the wretched sound is pleading for. It’s hard to swallow, but it’s harder to swallow unspoken words and know she may never give me another chance to speak them.

  “I was afraid to talk to you back then. I was scared I’d say the wrong thing and you’d leave me, and I’d never see you again. Now I’m afraid even if I do say the right words, you’re still going to leave me because it’s too late.”

  “Madox, I never knew you were scared… You were never anything but strong.” Her voice hitches on the last word as she repeats, “I didn’t know,” and she covers her face with both of her hands as her shoulders hunch over. The first sob is soft, but the second is harder, louder, wracking every piece of her.

  “Come here,” I say and pull her in close, holding her as tight as I can as she wraps her arms around me. Her fingers dig into me, clinging to me. Everyone could be watching us right now and I wouldn’t give two shits. I just don’t want her to leave me.

  Please, don’t leave me.

  “Tell me if I didn’t say the right things.” I rock her gently as I speak; her hair brushes against my lips. “I’ve never done this before,” I whisper, being open with my insecurity.

  “I just wanted,” she starts to say, and her words are strangled as tears leak freely from the corners of her eyes. She peers into mine, searching for something and I hope she finds exactly what she’s looking for.