All That We Are

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All That We Are Page 21

by Melissa Toppen


  I spent years with a man who made me feel that way every single day. I promised myself the day I got out that I would never let someone make me feel that way again. And that’s a promise I intend to keep.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Miles

  “Damn, you look like shit,” Delia says the instant I walk in the front door of Inked. I’m half a mind to tell her to fuck off, but truthfully I don’t have the energy to do even that.

  After what happened with Harlow, and quite possibly breaking my hand punching the front door, I polished off the remainder of my whiskey before passing out with my head in the toilet. That’s where I stayed until a few short hours ago. I haven’t really had time to process anything outside of trying to rid myself of this hangover.

  “Thanks,” I grumble, heading through the lobby into the main area of the shop.

  “She’s not here,” Delia calls behind me right as I reach the mouth of the hallway that leads back to the office.

  “Who?” I question unnecessarily, turning back toward her.

  “You know who.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest and leans against the doorframe on the other side of the room.

  “When is she coming in?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even and unphased.

  “She’s not.” She shakes her head slowly, giving me a small frown. “She called this morning and quit.”

  “She what?” The words tear from my throat and bounce off the walls around us.

  “You heard me.” Delia gives me a pointed look. “Whatever you did, you must have fucked up really bad considering she just signed a year lease on that apartment two weeks ago.”

  “Fuck.” I run my hands through my hair and tug on the ends in frustration.

  I was so convinced that I was doing the right thing by pushing her away that I didn’t even consider what that meant for her. Of course, she’d quit. Why would I think for one second that she’d ever want to see my face again after what I did to her?

  I can still see the hurt in her eyes, the desperation on her face. All she wanted was for me to let her in and I couldn’t do it. She tried to comfort me, to help me, and I couldn’t let her. She wanted to love me, and I threw that love back in her face like it didn’t mean a fucking thing.

  What kind of person does that to another person?

  Apparently, you do.

  “So, what did you do?” Delia asks, pulling me out of my own mind and back to the conversation.

  “It’s over. That’s all you need to know,” I tell her.

  “So it was your fault then.” She nods. “I knew you’d find a way to fuck it up.”

  “Are you done?” I practically growl, my frustration level doubling tenfold in a matter of seconds.

  “Yep.” She holds her hands up in front of herself and slowly backs out of the room without another word.

  ——

  “I fucking knew it!” Winston bursts into my office just after six, slamming the door closed behind him. “I knew you’d find a way to fuck it up. Fucking hell, why couldn’t you keep it in your fucking pants for once?”

  “Winston,” I start, ready to try to explain myself the best I can without telling him the real truth.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to her? She’s devastated. Like hasn’t stopped crying for hours, devastated. I’ve never seen her like this before. What the fuck?”

  My stomach knots at his words and I have the sudden urge to go to her. I push the thought down and quickly refocus.

  “You’re right. I should have listened.”

  “That’s it? I’m right?” he clips. “How about you tell me how the fuck you guys went from one hundred to zero overnight?”

  “I, uh, realized that things were getting a little too serious and I needed to back away.” I stand, squaring my shoulders.

  “A little too serious?” He snorts, unconvinced. “Just weeks ago you showed up at my dad’s shop pronouncing your love for her, or did you forget that part?”

  “I remember,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice calm.

  “So was it just a game to you? Make everyone believe you actually care so you can run around fucking her whenever you want without judgment? Fuck, dude, just fuck her and leave it at that. Why did you have to tell her you loved her?”

  “Because I fucking do,” I burst out, not able to listen to him talk about Harlow like she was just sex to me. She was never just sex. “I do love her.” My voice falters.

  “Then explain to me what the hell is going on?” Winston grips the back of the chair in front of him and leans forward slightly.

  “It just wasn’t working out.”

  “Bullshit.” Winston rocks back. “Tell me the real fucking reason.”

  “I just did.”

  “And that’s why you clearly punched something and fucked up your hand?” he asks, pointing to my right hand that’s bruised and swollen around my knuckles. “Because it just wasn’t working out.”

  “Why the fuck do you care why anyway? It didn’t work out. Let’s leave it at that.” I shove a stack of papers across the desk in frustration.

  “Why do I care?” He looks at me in disbelief. “Why do I care?” he repeats. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” He shakes his head. “You have been like a brother to me since we were kids. I warned you that this wouldn’t work, but you didn’t consider the position it would put me in. Nope. You had to have her, and whatever Miles fucking wants, Miles gets.”

  “This was never about you,” I argue.

  “Clearly, otherwise it wouldn’t have happened. But now I have to find a way to comfort my sister after my best friend ripped out her heart and fucking stomped all over it.”

  “I never meant to hurt her, Winston. You have to know that.”

  “Well what you meant to do isn’t really relevant anymore now, is it? The damage has been done. I hope you’re happy with the outcome.” He turns and rips the door open.

  “I almost killed her,” I blurt, not able to let him walk away believing what he’s currently thinking.

  He turns slowly back toward me, his eyes wide with confusion.

  “I was having a nightmare. The same nightmare,” I say, having shared small pieces of the dream with Winston over the years. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was in the dream with my hands around his neck and the next I was looking down at Harlow. My hands around her neck.” I collapse back into my chair and drop my face into my hands. “You should have seen her face.” I rub my eyes with the balls of my hands.

  “That’s why you ended things so abruptly.” I look up just in time to see him close the door and slide down into the seat across from me.

  “I love your sister. I love her like I’ve never loved a woman before. So much so, that I’m willing to let her go if it means keeping her safe from me.”

  “Did you ever think of telling her this?”

  “She wouldn’t listen if I did. She’d try to find a way to fix it. She’d convince me we could work it out. And I’d probably let her. And then what? What if next time it’s worse? What if next time I don’t wake up before it’s too late? I could never live with myself.”

  “Fuck, man.” Winston lets out a slow sigh and leans back in the chair.

  “I think maybe this was a sign. You know? Maybe after everything I’ve done I don’t deserve to be happy.”

  “I don’t believe that for one second,” Winston disagrees. “You were at war, Miles. You can’t blame yourself forever for the things you did to survive or the decisions you made in an impossible situation. You have to find a way to forgive yourself, man. Because until you do, you’re right, I don’t think you can be with Harlow and not put her at risk.” He pauses for a long moment. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need help. Like real help. Otherwise, this brutal cycle will never end, and you’re going to keep coming out on the other side with more casualties at your feet. Maybe not in the literal sense but you know what I mean. If you love Harlow the way you say
you do, you’ll find a way to make this right. If not, that’s on you. Either way, you’ve got to make a choice.”

  “You want me to go to therapy. I’ve told you already, it won’t help.”

  “And you know that how? Because you went twice right after you got home? You never even gave it a chance, Miles. You were so convinced that you knew better and who the hell could tell you differently? It was one thing when you were only hurting yourself, but now you’ve pulled Harlow into your fucking mess. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for her.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I tell him truthfully, knowing deep down there is not one damn thing I wouldn’t do to get Harlow back into my arms.

  “I really hope you do. In the meantime, stay away from my sister. She’s been through enough. You said you were done, so be done. At least until you get your shit sorted out.”

  “I can do that.” I nod, my chest tightening at the thought.

  “I love you. You know that. But until this blows over, you know where I stand.”

  “I know.” I nod once.

  Winston pushes to his feet.

  “You know I’ve got your back. Always. Do yourself a favor and get the fucking help you need. No matter what you think, you do deserve to be happy.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  With that, Winston turns and quickly exits the office.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Harlow

  Seven weeks later

  “You look beautiful,” I exclaim when Stella walks into the room dressed in a white, knee-length, fitted lace dress and sparkly white heels.

  Her blonde hair is pinned back on the sides with a long sheer veil attached to a silver and white headpiece, hanging down the back. She kept her makeup light with pale pinks and nudes, accenting her natural features beautifully.

  “You don’t think it’s too tight?” she asks, stepping in front of the floor length mirror at the back of the room before running her hands down the front of her dress.

  After much deliberation, Winston and Stella decided to get married on the river. Winston’s buddy owns a small restaurant with an outdoor deck that looks out over the water. It’s the perfect location, especially since there will only be about thirty people in attendance. Jon – who owns the place – closed the restaurant down for the occasion and has a small staff working that will serve dinner directly after the ceremony.

  “I think it’s perfect,” I tell her, walking up behind her to fluff the back of her hair. “Are you nervous?”

  “Not even a little bit.” She smiles at me in the mirror. “Is that weird?”

  “I don’t think so. I think when you know it’s right; there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

  “Were you nervous when you got married?” she asks, turning to face me.

  I think back to the day I married Alan. Even though it feels like a lifetime ago, I can still remember everything in perfect detail. The flowers his mother insisted on tying to the end of every pew even though I thought they were hideous. The candlestick centerpieces placed on every table. My dress, how it sashayed around my feet when I walked. The way my hand shook when Alan slipped the ring on my finger.

  “Extremely,” I answer. “Then again, look at who I was marrying. Perhaps that should have been my first clue.”

  “It wasn’t all bad though, was it?”

  “I guess not at first.” I shake my head. “Lucky for you, you know exactly what you’re getting with Winston. I don’t think you have to worry about things changing too dramatically. Your relationship will evolve with time, but that’s to be expected.”

  “I’m so happy to have you as a sister.” She pulls me in for a tight hug.

  “Me too,” I admit, fixing her veil as I pull back.

  “I wish your mom could be here. Then this day really would be perfect.”

  “She is here. Just like she was with me on my wedding day and every day since the moment she died. I know Winston feels that way too.”

  “That’s a good way to look at it. I just wish I could have met her.”

  “Well, I can tell you without a doubt that she would have adored you.”

  “Thanks, Harlow. That really means a lot.” She pauses for a long moment. “How do you feel about today? You think you’ll be okay?” Her question brings my reality back to the forefront of my mind. I’ve been trying really hard not to think about seeing Miles, even though I’ve known this day was coming for a while.

  We haven’t spoken since that night at his apartment. There are a lot of things I wish I could have said and I’m sure that he feels the same, but it was easier to cut ties and walk away. But it hasn’t been easy and truthfully the last thing I want to do is walk out on that deck in a few short minutes and have to see him standing there.

  Winston was prepared to tell him not to come, but I couldn’t allow that. He deserves to have his sister and his best friend with him on his wedding day, no matter how painful it might be for me.

  “Yeah, I think I’ll be fine,” I finally answer, forcing a carefree smile.

  “You’re about as bad of a liar as your brother.” Stella gives me a sad smile, reaching out to briefly touch my forearm.

  She’s right, of course. Anyone who cares to look can see I’m barely holding my emotions in check. I thought I was doing okay until this morning, but even then I know that’s not the truth. I haven’t been okay since everything fell apart. I’ve just been trying really hard to make everyone think I am, including myself.

  If I thought starting over after Alan was hard, it was nothing compared to moving on after Miles. As much as I loved my job at Inked, there was no way I could stay there. The couple weeks that followed were the hardest. Not only was I battling one hell of a broken heart, but I had to put myself back out in the world without skipping a beat. Enduring interview after interview when all I really wanted to do was curl up in my bed, consume thousands of calories in ice cream and watch sappy romance movies while I cried.

  I didn’t have enough money saved to get me through more than a month, so I really didn’t have a choice in the matter. Sitting there, forcing a smile when all I wanted to do was fall apart proved harder than I think even I realized going into it. But I made my way through, and after less than three weeks, I had lined up a job at Fifth Third Bank in their accounting department.

  It’s not Inked, but the pay is excellent, and I like most of my co-workers. And most importantly, it’s allowed me to keep my apartment. Though, I find myself more times than not wishing I had chosen something a little further from Miles. I swear every time I step out of my front door I’m afraid I’ll see him. Or maybe I’m hoping I will. My emotions kind of all bleed into one another these days.

  As much as I wish I could say I’m doing better and that time has helped, the truth is I’m still the same mess I was seven weeks ago when the rug was abruptly pulled out from underneath me. I think part of it is because I was one hundred percent invested in Miles and losing him has been a difficult thing to process. But more so I think it’s because I’ve never really gotten any closure. I’ve never gotten the answers I truly need.

  It went from him being there, to him not being there, without any real explanation as to why. That’s been the hardest part of all.

  “I don’t know if Winston has already said this, but thank you for what you’re doing,” Stella interrupts my thoughts, pulling my attention back to her. “Your brother was prepared to tell him not to come, but I know it would have killed him to do it.”

  “I would never have asked him to do that. I made my choice. I knew there was a possibility things wouldn’t work out and I’d be forced to see him regardless, yet I still went there anyway.” I shrug.

  “Yeah, but not everyone would be so selfless and levelheaded about it.” She smiles. “Now if we can just keep Jackie away from him, we might get through the day unscathed.”

  We both chuckle at that.

  Jackie has made it her mission to see that Miles and I get back together. S
he insists we’re made for each other and refuses to accept that things are over, even all these weeks later. She’s not the only one who was upset to hear of the split. I could tell my father was disappointed, though he was more worried about making sure I was okay. Not that Jackie wasn’t worried about me, but her comfort came more in the form of reassuring me everything would work itself out, and we’d find our way back to each other. Not really what you want to hear when it’s the furthest thing from what you believe.

  “She promised she wouldn’t interfere. I can’t see her risking making a scene today of all days. She’ll just whisper about it to my dad all day and drive him crazy.”

  “Better him than you.” She winks, turning her attention to the door when a soft knock comes from the other side. “Yeah?”

  “It’s me, hon.” Stella’s mom peeks her head inside the door. “They’re just about ready for you.”

  “Okay.” Stella takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly.

  “You ready?” I grab her bouquet off the chair to my left and hold it up to her.

  She takes the flowers from my hand and gives me a wide smile. “Let’s do this.”

  I follow Stella and her mother out of the back room and down a long hallway that opens up into the main dining area of the restaurant. We can see the guests that are gathered outside through the wall of windows along the back, but they’re tinted in a way that the people outside can’t see in.

  I spot Winston instantly, standing at the far side of the deck, the river glistening behind him. Then my eyes slide to his right, and all the air leaves my body.

  I knew he was going to be here. I knew I was going to see him. But nothing could have prepared me for what I feel like laying eyes on him again after all these weeks.

  He looks even more handsome than I remember and I swear my chest constricts so tight I feel like a thousand pound weight has settled down on top of it.

  Every memory hits me like a flash. The way he used to say my name. The sound of his laughter. How he smells. The way he’d always kiss my temple whenever he was standing near. It all comes knocking through me one after the other until every single emotion I’ve buried over the last two months has boiled its way to the surface.

 

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