It Ended With the Truth

by Lisa Suzanne

  I call Mark next.

  “What?” he hisses when he answers.

  “I need to apologize to you,” I blurt.

  “For calling me at five in the fucking morning? Good idea.”

  I glance at the small clock. “It’s seven.”

  “Not in Los Angeles. Where the hell are you?” His voice is low, and I hear some rustling.

  “Home.”

  “Chicago?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  I blow out a breath. “Just wanted to get out of Vegas for a bit.”

  “Running away?” It sounds like he’s walking.

  I shrug even though he can’t see it over the phone. “I guess.”

  “So why are you calling me so early?”

  “I’m sorry for all the lies I’ve ever told you. I’m sorry for spending your money frivolously and assuming the well would never run dry. I’m sorry for telling you when you were in tenth grade that Lydia Bradley told me she didn’t like you. It was a lie. I liked her and wanted you to turn your attention to someone else.” The words tumble out of my mouth. “I’m sorry for the lies about women, for acting out of revenge, for thinking you owed me something just because you’re my brother. And above all else, I’m really sorry for what I did to you and Reese, for keeping the two of you apart when I knew how you felt about her. You’re a good brother, and you deserved better than what I did. She’s one in a million, and she deserved better, too.”

  I can’t believe I’m apologizing when a part of me still feels the bite of betrayal all these years later. Reese slept with Mark when I was on a business trip in Germany. The two of them had no idea I was just using Reese to get back at Mark at the time, so they willingly slept together behind my back. Yet I’m the one apologizing.

  Mark is silent when I finish rambling. “You done?” he finally asks.

  Anger grates at me that he has nothing to say to the words I just poured out of my heart, but I shove it aside in my new attempt to be a better person.

  I blow out a breath. “Yeah.”

  “Brian, it’s all in the past. Every single one of the things you just said. You don’t need to apologize to me for any of it. I’m where I’m supposed to be, and I appreciate you owning up to the things we’ve already buried in the past, but you don’t need to bear the burdens any longer.”

  A lump forms in my throat at his unexpected tender tone. I don’t deserve his forgiveness, yet he’s already given it to me. I’ve spent so much time being jealous of all the things he has in life that I never stopped to look at the kind of man he’s become. As his words sink into my conscience, I realize he’s the kind of man I want to be like. Someone who can forgive, someone who loves deeply and works hard, a family man with a wife and a child who still has his own identity in the world.

  That’s all I want, too. Someday I might be ready to try for it again, but I think that day might be quite far down my road. Maybe I’ve patched things up with my brother. Maybe I’ve attempted to reach out and patch things up with my friends. But my own heart needs a good slice of time before the cracks there can be patched back together again.

  I don’t reply to his words because I can’t think of the right thing to say. Instead, he speaks again. “I’m glad you called. Not at this hour, of course, but you caught me when I was sleeping, so I guess that’s better than when I’m busy.”

  I chuckle. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

  “I already told you. Stop apologizing. Anyway, I was thinking about using FDB for web analytics. Our IT department is great at web design and implementation, but we need someone who can study traffic patterns and make recommendations to our marketing department based on what you see. Instead of hiring FDB outright, I’d like to offer you a position at Ashmark.”

  “At Ashmark?” I ask stupidly. It’s clear he’s read FDB’s bylaws or he’d ask me to come on as a consultant. This is a way around the no-compete clause.

  “Yeah. I think you’d make a good fit.”

  “In Los Angeles?” I’m not sure where my words have gone, but I’m sort of shocked at his offer. And not just that—but I don’t really believe things are over between FDB and me. I’m not ready to start looking for a new job yet. It hasn’t even sunk in yet that I lost my old one.

  “Yes. I can have HR draft a contract this afternoon if you’re interested. You can stay with me and Reese until you get on your feet.”

  “St—stay with you?” I stutter. But he has a wife. A baby. A life that doesn’t include me.

  “Dude, pull yourself together.” He laughs. “This is what brothers are supposed to do, right?”

  “Right,” I echo hollowly. I clear my throat. When it comes to business decisions, it’s mostly instinctual. My gut is telling me I’ll go back to FDB, but I have no idea when. Would it be the end of the world to do something on the side while I wait for the call to go back where I belong?

  When the decision in front of me isn’t instinctual, I’ve been known to spend days thinking things through meticulously, looking at every angle and analyzing every possibility.

  “So?” Mark waits patiently before the sun has even risen in Los Angeles while I try to figure out if this is the right thing to do from my spot in his childhood bedroom. When I realize I don’t have days to come up with a decision, I go with the impulsivity of what feels right.

  “Okay,” I say. “Yes. Let’s do it.” I don’t even know the terms, but I know Mark will pay me a fair wage and offer me benefits. We’ve talked at length in the past about the structure of his company, and if there’s one thing I know as a business owner—or former business owner, as the case may be—I know he takes care of his employees.

  “Then get the hell out here today so I can put you to work tomorrow. I’m going back to bed.”

  I let out a laugh when he hangs up, and for the first time in the past two days, I feel a tiny spark of hope for the future.

  chapter seven

  My mom squeezes me tightly. “I wish you could stay longer. It was nice having my baby back home.”

  “It was nice being here, too, Mom,” I say, squeezing her back.

  My dad physically peels my mom off me so he can give me a hug. “I’m proud of you, Brian.” He says the words so softly I almost miss them. “It takes a big man to stand up and fight, but sometimes it takes a bigger man to see how the fight would affect other people.”

  “Thanks, Dad. And thanks for only giving me a day to do the Brian.” I throw his words back at him with a wry smile, and he laughs then pokes me in the ribs good-naturedly.

  I open the door and find a car waiting for me at the curb.

  “Give that sweet baby girl a kiss from her grandma,” my mom says.

  I nod. “Of course.” I look at the waiting car then back at my parents. “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You said it takes a bigger man to see how the fight would affect other people. Does that mean you think I was right to kick Viv out? Because I was thinking about the position she’s putting her husband in?”

  He looks taken aback I’d ask that, and then he shrugs. “Only you can answer that one, Bri.”

  I shake my head with another wry smile. “Dammit. I knew you’d say that.” I turn to head toward the waiting car.

  “Watch your language around the baby!” my mom calls after me, and I laugh.

  “Love you guys,” I call back and then I slide into the backseat and the driver takes off toward the airport.

  * * *

  I wasn’t expecting a ride, but I find Mark’s LA driver, Stanley, waiting for me near the airport exit. “Mark sent me,” he says. We’ve met on many occasions, and he’s a stoic older guy who does a good job keeping my brother timely and safe to and from every Los Angeles event he attends when he’s in town. A retired military man, he’s precise and professional at all times.

  “Thanks,” I say. I follow him to the car. “How’s the wife?” I ask, making small talk.

  “Fine.”<
br />
  “And the kids?”

  He nods once as if to say they’re fine, too. He’s a man of few words. “Grandchild number four is due any time now.”

  “Congratulations,” I say. He almost cracks a smile, but he doesn’t.

  I check my email in the back of the car to see if Beck or Jason has written back, and neither has. I’m disappointed but not entirely shocked by that.

  It takes us over an hour to get from the airport to Mark’s place in Malibu. Normally I’d spend the time catching up on work, but I don’t actually have any work to catch up on. I check my personal email and find some paperwork from the HR department at Ashmark. I have all night to get that shit done, and sitting at a computer would make it easier anyway. I set the phone on the seat beside me and look out the window, one of the luxuries I usually ignore so I can get more work done.

  It’s a pleasant view as we make our way down the Pacific Coast Highway. I gaze at the water and am immediately reminded of Vivian. Just then we pass a road sign telling us to head north toward Tarzana.

  Tarzana—the land-locked city where Vivian lives.

  With her husband.

  The car doesn’t move that way. Instead, we continue west toward Mark’s place, but now she’s firmly planted back in my mind. I do a quick search and find Tarzana is only about a forty-minute drive from Malibu. I wonder where in Tarzana she lives. I could search that, too, but I’m not feeling particularly like a stalker at the moment. It’s strange being so close to her geographically again when we’re separated by so much more now.

  I can’t help but wonder if she told her husband. I wonder what she’s thinking or feeling, what sorts of emotions are running through her. Whether she misses me like I miss her. Whether there’s a hole in her chest where I fit the same way there is in mine for her. Whether she returned to her home in Tarzana or if she took another job somewhere else as a means to escape the bitter thoughts of loving two men.

  Part of me feels like I wasn’t fair to her, that I should’ve given her some time to think things through—or even that I should’ve allowed her to explain herself. It just all happened so fast, and there’s no defense in what she did.

  Now that I have some days separating what happened, I expect to feel better about it...but I don’t. If anything, my chest aches even more. Sort of like when you try something new in your workout and it isn’t the first day or even the second when it hurts the worst. Time makes it worse.

  Only workout pains are generally good pains.

  This is not.

  I try to shake her from my thoughts as I stare out over the water, but every single detail reminds me of her.

  The first time I kissed her, we were by the ocean. The first time I knew I was in love with her, I felt the sand beneath my toes. The first time I made love to her, I stripped her out of a burgundy gown—the same color as Stanley’s shirt.

  Everywhere I look, she’s there. She’s glued to my thoughts and sewn in my soul, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  We finally pull up to my brother’s place in Malibu a little after five in the evening. It looks exactly the same as the last time I was here just a couple months ago, but my life has taken quite a few different turns since then. His has too, I suppose, as I think of the baby girl he and his wife had not so long ago.

  I ring the bell, and Mark answers it a minute later. I hear a baby crying in distance behind him, and my first thought is that this is a bad idea. They’ve got enough going on—they don’t need a houseguest on top of it.

  And it’s not just that.

  I’m not really a baby kind of person.

  At all.

  In fact, the only baby I’ve ever held is the one currently crying somewhere in Mark’s massive beach house the day she was born.

  My brother greets me with a glare. “Who the fuck rings doorbells when there’s a newborn in the house?”

  I cringe. “Sorry. I didn’t even think of that.”

  “Well...think.” He opens the door wider to let me in. “Reese just got her to fall asleep and then the bell rang.”

  “I promise to be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here.”

  He ignores me and I follow him toward the kitchen. “Take the guest room in the back. It’s the furthest from Ashton’s room so you can make as much noise as you want.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Within reason, of course.”

  I chuckle. “You guys have dinner plans tonight?” I realize I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.

  “Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge but don’t touch the white box. Reese said she’s got some leftovers in there she can’t wait to dig into. I’ve got a band meeting and practice to get to.”

  “No white box.” I mock salute. “Got it.”

  “We’re heading to Ashmark first thing in the morning. Be ready to leave at eight if you want to go together. I left a set of keys on the kitchen counter. Take the BMW if you need it. There’s a house key on the ring, too.” He turns to walk away.

  “Mark?” I say tentatively. He stops and turns back to me. “Thank you.”

  He shoots me a thin, sympathetic smile. “You’re dealing with a lot of shit. It’s the least I could do.”

  “I’m sorry your proxy quit.” I can’t bring myself to say her name. “She was exactly what FDB needed no matter how much I wanted to deny that.”

  “She sent me a report of what she accomplished in the short time she was there. The full ninety days would’ve paid off in spades, but at least she got the company back in black. As long as they put someone at the top who knows finance, they should be okay.”

  “Have you talked to her?” I ask.

  “Yeah. What do you want to know?”

  “Nothing. I just...I’m not ready for that.” I clear my throat and change the subject. “Are you keeping your fifty-one percent?”

  He nods. “For now. They offered to buy me out, but I’m not selling unless you tell me you don’t want anyone in this family associated with the company.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “It started as your company, Brian, but I get why they did what they did.” He lowers his voice as if saying the words quietly will soften the blow. It doesn’t.

  “I’m starting to understand, too.”

  He looks surprised by my words, and he has every right to feel that way. I’ve never been one to admit my mistakes, and I hope he can see I’m turning over a new leaf.

  “I’m sorry you lost Vivian in the process,” he says.

  I press my lips together, surprised at the pain that lances through my chest at the mention of her name. “Two separate events that happened to coincide chronologically.”

  “It’s still a lot to take in. I know how I felt when I lost Reese for a while. If you feel half for Vivian what I feel for Reese, then you deserve a break. And that’s why you’re here.”

  “I appreciate that, Mark. More than I can say.”

  He shoots me a quick smile then grabs his own keys off the counter. “Don’t wait up, dear.”

  I laugh and he disappears out the door. I gravitate toward his patio doors. Mark’s place sits right on the beach and offers unparalleled views. I don’t know how long I’m standing there, staring out at the rhythmic waves crashing onto the shore before they roll out and the process starts all over again, when I hear a voice behind me.

  “Welcome to Malibu.”

  The sound of my ex’s voice startles me to a jump. I turn around to face her, and she’s positively glowing. In an alternate universe, I could’ve ended up with her. But she was Mark’s from the very start, and he belonged to her as well. What I pretended to have with her never could’ve held a candle to what she has with him. I could never have given her the world the way he has. In fact, when I turn the mirror on the inside, I’m not sure what, exactly, I even have to offer a woman.

  I put all my money into my company, which I lost. I’m a broke, friendless thirty-two-year-old man moving in with his brother and relying on him to save m
e.

  My brother. He’s all I’ve got going for me, and I’ve used that plenty of times in my life. Just when I think I need to stop relying on that, here I am, living in his house and standing off against the woman I tried to keep away from him. Destiny had different plans, though, and it was stronger than any lie I could ever have told.

  I clear my throat. “Thank you.”

  She blinks her gaze away from me and looks out the window.

  “Is Ashton down?” I ask.

  She nods and shoots me a wry smile. “No thanks to you.”

  I chuckle. “Sorry about that.”

  She shakes her head like she was just kidding then turns to the refrigerator to get her white box of leftovers.

  “Can I talk to you about something?” I ask. I feel awkward asking. I feel awkward being here alone with her. I admire my brother’s confidence in leaving the two of us alone, and I suppose I realize it’s not necessarily me he trusts, but her.

  “Sure.” She doesn’t say “of course” or “whatever you need” or something similar to invite this conversation. She doesn’t even sound curious about what I have to say. It’s just a flat-toned single word.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She turns from the fridge with her white box and tosses it in the microwave. “For waking Ashton up?”

  “Well, yeah. But I mean for what I did to keep you and Mark apart.”

  She reaches into the silverware drawer and points a fork in my direction. “It’s in the past.”

  “I know it is. But I don’t know if I’ve ever apologized for what I did.”

  She shrugs. “You did, but in the end, it didn’t matter. It was the hardest road of my life and the world almost lost Mark because of you, but eventually we ended up where we were supposed to. You’re my husband’s brother. That means we’re family, and family forgives. Even the hard stuff.”

  Family forgives.

  I guess there’s one other thing I have going for me aside from the fact that my brother is a rock star.

  I was lucky enough to be born into this family—one that forgives and moves forward. One that doesn’t dwell on the mistakes of the past but is willing to forge ahead with bonds strengthened in the end.