“All right, all right,” he said, both hands up in surrender. “I’ll call her Belle from now on. And I’ll make sure I’m wearin’ my best shirt on Sunday.”
“Oh, and why’s that?”
“Because if you can’t get a date, maybe I can.”
I shook my head with a laugh. The old man was a lot of talk, but I knew that’s all it was. Poor guy hadn’t even looked twice at another woman since Grams died over two decades ago. He said he was a one-woman man, and that didn’t change when she passed.
“Now get the hell out of here and go work on that girl.”
“Belle. And okay, I’m going. Have a good night and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I left Gramps’ house with a smile on my face and a spring in my step.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I could get Belle to change her mind. Like Gramps said, maybe I just needed to be the best damn friend she’d ever had. Maybe that would be all it took.
I called our dinner order into Little Tony’s and, thankfully, it was ready by the time I got there. I was anxious to get home as soon as I could. If that made me sound a little pathetic, that was all right. I was the only one who had to listen to me.
When I got in the apartment, I was greeted as boisterously as usual by Charlotte. To be honest, I was kind of starting to like the little dog.
“Hey, Rem!”
I looked up to find Belle leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Her light brown hair was down in soft waves around her shoulders and her honey-colored eyes were bright as she looked at me. I swallowed harshly and turned away as soon as I saw what she was wearing. Her tiny tank top showed more skin than it covered, and I seriously wondered how I’d make it through the night.
“You get the goods?”
I held up the brown paper bag in my hands as I stood upright from petting Charlotte. “Of course.”
She clapped her hands, looking like I’d just brought home a sack of Christmas presents and not just an Italian sub. “I’m gonna grab a glass of wine. Blue Moon for you?”
She walked past me, leaving behind a cloud of her vanilla-scented perfume. “Yeah. A beer would be great.” I had a feeling I’d need it.
I shook my head and walked into the living room. She was close behind and we both took seats on the couch before I started unpacking the food.
“There’d better be extra cheese.”
I chuckled as I handed her food over. “I double checked with the guy there. Told him the owner of that sub was pretty scary and he didn’t wanna make her mad.”
She paused in unwrapping her dinner. “Were those your exact words?”
“Basically.”
“Good. Let them know what they’re messing with.”
I laughed as I got my own sub out and took the first bite. I usually ate with Gramps a little earlier than this, but it was definitely worth waiting to eat with Belle.
I swallowed my bite and nodded toward the television. “What are we watching?”
“The Bachelor.”
I stopped eating with my sub suspended halfway to my mouth. Turning slowly, I eyed Belle, but she wasn’t even looking at me. “The Bachelor?” I deadpanned.
She shrugged and took another bite. “Yeah. Why?”
I turned to face her. “You’re telling me the famously anti-love woman is a fan of a show about a guy trying to find a bride?”
She rolled her eyes and took a sip of wine. “I don’t watch it for the romance. I watch it for the drama.”
I shook my head. “But the whole premise of the show is love and relationships. How can that be something you’d willingly watch?”
She shrugged again and picked up her sandwich. “I used to watch it with Bailey all the time and it kinda grew on me. And like I said, I’m not watching to see two people fall in love, I’m watching to see the rest of the idiots fight over one mediocre guy.”
The question was on the tip of my tongue, but I refrained. Instead, I picked up my beer and took a long swig. I didn’t want to scare her off by delving too deep, but I couldn’t deny I wanted to know her better. To see how she ticked and why.
It was then I decided I wanted to know enough to risk this small truce we had.
I set my beer down and leaned back on the couch. “Why are you so averse to relationships?”
She shot me a sideways look. “I told you. It always ends badly.”
“Do you know that from personal experience?”
She slowly chewed her food, and it was like I could hear the gears turning in her head. “I guess you could say that.”
“So, you’ve been in a relationship before that didn’t end well?”
She snorted. “Hell no.”
I frowned. “Okay, then where does your experience come from?”
She sighed and set her half-eaten sub down before picking up her glass of wine. “That would be my mother.”
I turned on the couch so I could see her better. “Your mom? What happened with her?”
Belle squirmed in her seat and I almost took my question back. Almost.
Finally, she let out a deep breath and blurted, “When we lost my dad, we sort of lost her too.”
My stomach twisted as I thought about the loss of my own parents. Didn’t I know that pain all too well?
“Your dad passed away?” I asked quietly.
She nodded once. “Pancreatic cancer. He died three months after his diagnosis.”
My heart clenched in my chest. She said the words so matter of fact. Like she’d rehearsed them or had to say them many times before. There was little emotion on the surface, but I could see it brewing underneath.
I almost didn’t voice the next question, but I felt like I needed to know. Like it might be the missing puzzle piece to figuring out Belle Garcia. “And your mom?”
She let out a shaky breath and took another sip of wine before answering, her eyes on her lap. “She might as well have crawled in his coffin with him.”
My hands twitched with the need to reach out to her, but I refrained. I knew it wasn’t what she wanted in that moment. That all she needed from me was to listen.
“She spent months in bed, not eating, barely moving. Isaiah and I had to pretty much take care of ourselves while she wasted away in her dark bedroom.”
“Is that your brother?”
She nodded. “He was only six.”
“And how old were you?”
“Ten.”
I winced at the harshness of her tone. But she wasn’t done.
“One night, I went into her room. I don’t even know why I did. I avoided her as much as possible during that time. But that night I went in to check on her and I just knew something was wrong. I could feel it, you know? When I walked up to her bed, I saw the bottle of vodka and the empty bottle of pills.”
My heart dropped as I watched Belle take several deep breaths. Her hands were shaking where they held her wine glass.
“I tried waking her up. I shook her, and I yelled at her, and I even slapped her, but her eyelids barely fluttered. Finally, I called nine-one-one. I didn’t want to. I was afraid they’d take me and Isaiah away from her if they found out how bad things had gotten, but I didn’t want to lose my mom too. I couldn’t. Even though she’d barely been a mom for months, I still didn’t want to be an orphan.”
My insides felt like they were being squeezed in a vice. I could barely breathe as I watched her try to hold herself together on the other end of the couch. She wasn’t that far away, but the distance felt so great. Like she was on an island by herself. Almost like she was that little ten-year-old girl again, alone and scared.
“Of course, Belle. You did the right thing,” I said softly.
She shrugged and turned her head to sniff. When she looked back, her amber eyes met mine, and they were rimmed in red and so sad I could barely hold still. “We never found out if she did it on purpose or not. When she got out of the hospital, she claimed she didn’t remember.”
Belle’s eyes fell to the glass in
her hand. It shook noticeably as she reached over to set it on the table. When she leaned back, she folded her hands in her lap and let out another deep breath, her shoulders hunching. “I never understood how she could do that, you know? How she could be so selfish. How she could think of leaving us when we’d already lost so much.”
She fisted her hands and looked up at me, her eyes full of the tears she was trying not to shed. “And all of that was because she loved my father. Because love made her weak. Sick. So sick she’d rather die and be with her husband than live and take care of her kids.” With that last word, the tears finally broke through and raced down her face.
And that was the last straw for me.
I scooted across the couch until I was close enough to pull her into my arms. She resisted at first. Shook her head and kept her body stiff as I tried to comfort her.
“Belle,” I implored. There was nothing more to say. Nothing else I could say. Just her name said as a plea to let me help. To let me in, even if it was only an inch.
She held out for another couple of seconds before a loud sob fell from her lips and her body went limp in mine. I wasted no time pulling her shaking form onto my lap and wrapping my arms around her. I held on tight, hoping I could infuse some of my strength into her. Hoping I could help hold together the pieces I knew were paper thin at that point.
She didn’t hold me back, but she melted into my arms, her tears soaking my shirt and her cries breaking my heart. I didn’t speak. What could I have said, anyway? What could possibly make up for what she’d been through? What series of words would make any difference? Instead, I just held her as she let out years of grief and loss.
My chin rested on her head while my hand stroked her back in soft circles. I don’t know how long we sat like that or how long she cried, but it didn’t matter. If she needed me to sit there like that all night, I would have, happily. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for her in that instant.
Finally, her cries quieted, and her sniffles lessened, and she straightened in my arms. I looked down at her, meeting a pair of eyes that were both so sad and so strong it made my heart pound.
We were so close in that moment. The closest we’d been since that night we spent together. Without my permission, my eyes glanced at her swollen lips and back up to her golden gaze. She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes, her body swaying forward a few inches before she jolted to a stop. I held my breath as I watched her, wondering what came next. How we moved on from this.
Belle pressed her lips together and shook her head slightly before meeting my gaze again. “I’m so sorry.”
I frowned. “Sorry for what?”
She laughed, but it was strained and watery and so fake as she pulled out of my arms and slid back onto the couch next to me. Reaching up, she wiped the remnants of her sorrow from her face. “For unloading like that.” She laughed again. “That is so not like me.”
I tried to catch her gaze, but she was purposely avoiding me. “You don’t have to do that, Belle. Not here. Not with me.”
She met my eyes briefly before looking away just as fast. “Do what?”
“Pretend.”
She shook her head again. “I’m not pretending. I really am sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I’m probably overtired. I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”
She stood up so fast, I almost got whiplash. I sat back on the couch as I watched her wrap up the rest of her sandwich and grab her glass of wine.
“You haven’t finished eating,” I said, trying to get her to slow down. Trying to get her to drop this act she was putting on.
“I’m full, actually. I’m just really tired. Thanks for dinner, Rem. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Before I could say another word, she left the living room, and moments later, I heard her bedroom door shut. I sat there for a long time, thinking about what happened and what it all meant. My heart still hurt for everything she’d been through, but I was thankful I’d gotten to see that part of her. That hidden piece I’m sure not many others had seen. It told me more about her than I’d anticipated.
In that moment, I knew Gramps was right. I couldn’t give up on her. Not after that. My heart was in the game now and I was playing for keeps.
Chapter 17
Belle
I woke up feeling like I’d been run over by a freight train. Twice.
“Ugh,” I groaned as I rolled over to stop my alarm clock from blaring through the room. I lay there for a moment, hoping my headache wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. Unfortunately, it was worse.
Knowing the only cure was some ibuprofen and a lot of water, I carefully climbed out of bed and stumbled through my room to the door. I flung it open and almost hissed at the amount of sunlight streaming into the bright-ass kitchen. When my eyes adjusted, I noticed I was, thankfully, alone. After last night, I did not need Remy to see me like this.
“Ugh,” I groaned again.
Last night had been such a fucking wreck. I don’t know why I’d told him that story about my mom. I don’t think I’d ever told it to anyone, actually. Not even Bailey and she was like my sister. There was something about his soft brown gaze and the way he looked at me. Like all my secrets would be safe with him. Like I’d be safe with him.
I shook that thought off as I uncapped a bottle of water and brought it to my lips.
So, not only had I divulged a ridiculously personal and unnecessary story about my past, but then I lost my shit and blubbered all over him. What a freaking mess.
I never cried in front of other people. Never. Not even when my dad died. Not even when my mom OD’d. Not even when we’d been sent to live with my grandmother while my mom got her act together. I was stronger than that, but you wouldn’t have known by my actions last night.
I grabbed some pain pills out of the cabinet and downed them with the last of the water. Hopefully, a hot shower would cure the rest of my headache and wash away the humiliation of last night.
I walked over to the bathroom and found it blessedly empty. Stripping quickly, I made the water as hot as I could stand and marinated in it for as long as I could. When I got out, my fingers were wrinkled and my skin was red, but the headache hadn’t budged. The probability of my day not sucking just kept getting worse.
To add insult to injury, in my half-dead state, I’d forgotten my bathrobe, so that meant I’d have to walk back to my room in just a towel. I sent out a quick plea to the universe that Remy was anywhere other than the kitchen and slowly opened the bathroom door.
“Morning, Belle!”
I grimaced as I pulled the door open the rest of the way. Thankfully, Remy had his back to me, and I thought if I could walk fast enough, I might make it to my bedroom before he saw me like this. But fate wasn’t that kind.
I wasn’t even halfway there when Remy turned with a small smile on his handsome face. When he finally got a good look at me, the grin slowly faded as the heat in his gaze intensified. I shuffled on my feet, thankful the hot shower had already turned my skin red.
“Morning, Remy,” I muttered as I tugged on the little towel just barely protecting my modesty.
His eyes swept down the length of my body before they snapped to mine, and he cleared his throat. “Um. Hey.”
Holy shit. If there was ever an opportune time for a sink hole to appear, this was it.
I looked down at my barely covered body and felt my cheeks heat further. “I’m. Um. Just going to get dressed.”
He coughed. “That’s probably a good idea.”
He turned back around, and I took the opportunity to scuttle into my bedroom. When the door was closed behind me, I released a deep breath and let my head fall backward. That was awkward as hell, and on top of an already embarrassing night.
“Definitely calling an Uber,” I muttered as I lost the towel and hunted down some clothes.
I spent more time on my make-up than usual, hoping I could cover up the mistakes I’d made and the sickly pallor of my
face. When I was as presentable as I was going to get, I ordered a ride and headed out of my bedroom, hoping Remy had already left for work.
And my luck had yet to improve.
“I’ve got your coffee poured and Charlotte’s been let out. Are you ready to go?”
Him being considerate and thoughtful was starting to get on my nerves.
“Thanks for taking Charlotte out. I’ve got an Uber on the way.”
He frowned and paused with this travel mug halfway to his mouth. “An Uber? Why?”
I shrugged and looked down at my own coffee. “Why not?”
He laughed once, but it was less humorous and more incredulous. “Because I’ve been driving you all week. Why would I stop now?”
I sighed impatiently and met his gaze. “Why would you start to begin with? I’m not your problem.”
He frowned and took a small step closer. “I never said you were a problem. You’re a friend who helped me out and now I’m helping you. What’s the big deal?”
The big deal was I needed to not be in his presence today.
The big deal was I’d made an idiot of myself last night and could barely look him in the eye.
The big deal was I’d never been that vulnerable in front of someone before and now I felt even more naked than I had standing in that tiny towel a little while ago.
He took another step closer, bringing with him the smell of his expensive cologne that clung to his finely tailored suit and made my stomach clench. “Belle. Just cancel the Uber.”
I gritted my teeth and shook my head. “Don’t worry about me.”
He sighed. “Quit being a pain in the ass. I’m taking you to work.”
My eyes widened as I looked up at him. His gaze was hard and unrelenting as he stared me down. “I’m not being a pain in the ass.”
“You are. I know what you’re doing and I’m not going to let you. I’m driving you to work just like every other day since I moved in here. Cancel your Uber and meet me in the car.”
With that, he turned around and left the apartment. I stood there with my jaw hanging open, watching the space he’d occupied for far longer than necessary. My feet remained glued to the floor as I struggled with how to feel at that moment.
Beyond Beautiful (Love in Providence Book 2) Page 14