Worth the Wait

by Traci Douglass

  Chest tight, she stared out the window beside her as the city receded.

  Stupid. So stupid.

  Stupid to fall in love. Stupid to get attached.

  Stupid to care when it all went away, just like you knew it would.

  Maybe it was good she was leaving for the movie part. In fact, maybe she should stay at Gina’s for a week or so until she left, just to give them both plenty of space. He wanted to do everything by himself? Fine. Let him.

  Mandy pulled out her phone and looked up his father’s information, typing in a quick text to tell him not to come to the house, then hit send. Unwanted tears rolled down her cheeks before she swiped them away fast. She’d tried to do the right thing, but it had all gone wrong.

  Think positive. Better things are just around the corner.

  Her mother’s words mocked her from the great beyond. The only thing around the corner for Mandy now was the open road and a future without Alex.

  Chapter Twelve

  By the time they got back to the house, Mandy had moved past sadness and regret straight to anger, mainly at herself. She’d veered way off course from their agreement. Love never should’ve entered into this. Love was always a bad idea.

  They hadn’t said two words to each other since they’d left Chicago, and that was fine. Once the car pulled up in front of the house, she scrambled out her side and all but ran to unlock the front door, rushing upstairs like the hounds of hell were on her heels.

  Or one very pissed off Alex.

  God. She never should’ve tried to help. He obviously didn’t want it, and she’d basically annihilated whatever trust had developed between them. He’d said so right outside the museum.

  He’d also said he loved you…

  A dark pit opened inside her and her hands shook as she pulled her suitcase out from the closet and began cramming clothes inside it. No. He’d not said that. Her stupid brain was making that up. He’d never finished that sentence. He could’ve been saying lovastatin. Considering how her chest ached right now, a coronary condition wasn’t out of the question.

  She’d just shoved the contents of her socks and undies drawers into her bag without looking when Alex’s footsteps pounded up the stairs, stopping in the hall outside her door.

  “This isn’t over yet,” he said, his tone edged with betrayal. “What about my dad?”

  “What about him?” she snapped back. “I texted him and told him not to come. Happy now?”

  “No. How about furious? That’s a good word.” He crossed his arms and his mouth pinched. “Or indignant. Yeah, that’s even better.”

  “Indignant?” Mandy turned to shoot him a disgusted look. “Nice. Are we fighting or playing Scrabble?”

  “Oh, we’re definitely fighting. And don’t make jokes.” He stepped forward to fill the doorway with his body, anger vibrating off him like a tuning fork. His voice grew gradually louder as he spoke until she’d swear she felt the walls shake from it. “You went behind my back. You knew about my dad and you invited him over anyway, even after I told you why I felt the way I do. Why the hell would you do that, Mandy?”

  “I was trying to help you!” She shouted back, yanking hangers out of the closet with each word and ripping her clothes off them. “I thought it would be nice if you two could at least open a dialogue before I left for Tennessee. Pardon me for looking out for you.”

  “I don’t need you to ‘look out’ for me, Mandy. I don’t need special treatment. I’ve got a bum leg and PTSD, not a lobotomy. You said you researched this stuff for a part, but you thinking you know what’s best for me, that I’m not capable of making that decision for myself…” He shook his head and swore. “That’s Ableism 101. I’m not yours to fix. I thought you understood that. I trusted you, dammit.”

  Mandy hid her wince, doing her best to get her overflowing suitcase to zip. “I’m sorry, okay? I said that before, and I’m saying it again now. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. I was trying to help. What do you want from me?”

  “I want to know what else you were lying to me about.” He stepped closer, his nostrils flaring again, but not from desire this time. “Did you ever even want me or was that all a lie, too? Was I just some charity case to you?”

  “What?” She huffed out a breath then straightened, meeting his hot glare with one of her own. “No. I trusted you, too. You think it was easy for me to stay here with you, knowing about my past, knowing how staying in one spot too long gives me hives? Well, news flash, it wasn’t.”

  “Aw.” Crimson flushed his face and his upper lip curled. “Poor baby. You play an excellent victim. Maybe that should be your next audition, since you blew the last one.”

  “I think that role’s already taken. You fill it quite well.” Even as the words left her mouth, they tasted nasty, but she refused to stand there and take any more of his crap. She’d screwed up, yes, but he had no business insulting her career. “I hate that you got shot, Alex. It was awful. Horrible. And completely undeserved. But you know what? Bad things happen. Like you said, we don’t always get what we want. It’s how we move on and deal with it that matters. Staying stuck in this house and blaming it on your anxiety isn’t helping the problem. I thought my being here was helping you get better.” She swallowed hard and turned away again, squeezing her eyes shut against the burn of tears she refused to let fall. “I thought we were helping each other get better. I loved my mom, and losing her was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. You helped me forget about that for a while. Helped me feel like maybe staying here in Heavenly Falls wasn’t so bad after all. That wasn’t an act. Nothing that happened between us was an act. Not for me.” She stepped closer now, hurt and guilt turning the pit in her stomach into the Grand Canyon of regret. “If I could go back and change the day I went to meet with your dad, I would. But I can’t. So, all I can do is move forward and try to do better. Maybe you should try to do the same.”

  Summoning what was left of her pride, she spun on her heel and tucked Duckie’s fishbowl under one arm then grabbed the handle of her suitcase with the other and walked around him to the door. “Goodbye, Alex. Have a nice life. I’ll be in touch when the house is ready to sell.”

  “So that’s it?” he called from behind her as she headed downstairs. “This is over?”

  “That’s what you want, right?” she yelled back up at him. “Since you don’t trust me.”

  “Stop throwing my words back at me,” he scowled down at her from over the second-floor railing. “I can’t believe you’re running away.”

  “I’m not running, I’m—” A knock on the front door cut her off. Mandy frowned. Who the hell was that? She’d not requested her Uber yet. She tore her gaze from Alex to peek out the window and her blood froze. Mr. Noonan.

  Crap.

  Tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, she set Duckie’s tank on top of her suitcase then opened the door, blocking him from entering. “What are you doing here?”

  “This is when you told me to come, right?” Mr. Noonan said, pulling out his old flip phone and squinting down at the screen. “I still can’t figure out how to use this stupid thing.”

  “Whoever that is, tell them to go,” Alex called, his steps thudding down the stairs behind her. “We’re in the middle of—” His solid form moved in behind her, and Mandy’s last hope of any kind of reconciliation between them died a painful death.

  Great. Just great.

  The two men stared at each other, the air thick with tension and the train wreck officially exploded into a full-blown disaster.

  “Go away,” Alex said, nudging Mandy out of the way to grab the doorknob. “You’re not wanted here.”

  “Son, please…” his father started. “Let’s talk this out.”

  “I’m done talking.”

  “Alex, please,” Mandy said, trying one last Hail Mary pass to salvage things. “He’s here, w
hy not at least listen to him?”

  “Because there’s nothing he’s got to say that I want to hear.” That pinched look was back on his face, harder now, if that were possible. “Get off my porch.”

  Mr. Noonan narrowed his gaze, not budging. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Well, I am.” Mandy had had enough of stubborn, insufferable men for one day. She picked up Duckie’s tank once more and grabbed her suitcase, sidling past Mr. Noonan out the door. “You two enjoy your pissing contest or whatever this thing is, but I’ve got better things to do. Have a nice life, Alex.”

  She trundled down the stoop and over to the curb, not looking back for fear she would lose it and, for the sake of her sanity and her heart, she couldn’t do that. Not here. Not yet.

  Behind her, as she ordered a ride on her phone, she could hear the shouts of Alex and his father through the open front door, and her chest ached. But she needed to keep it together, put on a brave front, bury the hurt and pain like the good little actress she was and put on the Oscar-worthy performance of her life. Later, when she was alone at Gina’s, she’d give in to the toxic brew of grief and failure and fear that she’d never, ever get her life together again.

  …

  “Can we at least discuss this like adults?” his dad shouted, his face for once showing his years. “In private?”

  “No. I’ve got nothing to say to you.” Alex stared past him at the receding taillights of Mandy’s Uber as they disappeared around the corner of Concord Lane, taking her away. She was gone. Just like he’d wanted. He should be thrilled.

  Except he felt nauseous instead, bile rising hot in his throat.

  God, could this day get any worse?

  Given his dad stood not two feet away, looking like he wasn’t going anywhere despite Alex’s wishes, the answer to that question was “yes.” Well, his father might be here, but that didn’t mean Alex needed to listen to him. He started to close the door in his dad’s face. He had enough toxic BS to deal with already. He didn’t need any more opinions about his issues from his dad, especially ones that weren’t helpful at all.

  “Alex, please don’t shut me out again,” his father said, wedging his foot in the jamb.

  “Too late.” Alex threw up his hands and walked away. Let his father stand on the porch all night for all he cared. He was done. Done with Mandy. Done with his past. Done with his dad’s thinking that his PTSD would just go away if Alex ignored it long enough. That didn’t work. He’d tried.

  He gave a derisive snort and headed down the hall toward the kitchen. God, he’d really tried. Especially these past few weeks. He’d really thought things were getting better. That there might be a chance for him and Mandy. More than just sex. More than just temporary.

  More like love.

  But no. Once again, he’d been proven wrong. Love wasn’t for him. He was better off alone, here in his house. His project, his plans, his fortress for the future.

  He’d nearly made it to the kitchen when the floor beneath his feet gave an ominous rumble. Alex stopped and braced his hand against the wall as a tiny shower of plaster rained down. What the…

  “Son?” his dad called from the foyer. “I think you’ve got a problem with—”

  Before his father could finish that sentence, the whole house shook again, and this time larger chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling, smashing on the wooden floor near Alex’s feet. His mind raced through ideas of what it could be, but one stuck at the forefront. The foundation. The new contractor had shored it up after the damage Skip and his crew had done, but it must’ve been too little, too late. Oh God. Not good. Not good at all.

  He swiveled and yanked open the basement door to head down, ignoring the shouts of his father behind him.

  “Son, you can’t go down there. It’s not safe. Let me call the building department and my crew out here.”

  “No. Go away! I’ve got this. Leave me alone.” Alex made his way down into the darkness of the basement, his flashlight app on his phone the only illumination. The rickety steps creaked beneath his weight, and the sound of trickling water had his hammering heart threatening to burst out of his rib cage. The air smelled of damp and mildew, both new since the last time he’d checked this area the day before. A pipe must’ve burst near the foundation.

  A mix of adrenaline, anxiety, and anger propelled him forward, kept him focused on the current crisis and not the chasm of regret inside him. He needed to figure out this problem first. Save the house, since it was all he had left now, then move on to the next issue. That was something else he remembered from the counseling he’d received back in the hospital. Deal with one thing at a time to avoid being overwhelmed. One step, then the next. Then the next.

  Except right now, everything was falling apart, and the second he focused on one thing, another went up in flames. His breath quickened and heat licked up from his toes to the top of his head, drying his throat and making his head spin. He’d just reached the basement floor when his dad called down from the hallway above.

  “The building inspector’s on his way. My crew, too. Come upstairs, son, and let them deal with it. You’re in no state to handle things yourself. Don’t be an idiot.”

  God. He expected that kind of crap from his dad, after his remarks about Alex’s PTSD being all in his head.

  Never expected it from Mandy, though.

  He’d thought she was different. Thought she cared for him, not in spite of his issues, but because of them. Thought she might, maybe, have loved him.

  Yep. I am an idiot.

  He gripped the cold stone wall with one hand to steady his shaking knees, his stomach threatening to upend its contents. He was in full panic mode now and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. Hell, he’d even brought it on himself. Fingers trembling, he held up his phone to assess the damage around him, because why not? The rest of his life was in ruins, why not the house, too?

  The stark white beam of light showed long, jagged cracks bisected the foundation walls, and one corner had already buckled. So much worse than he’d imagined.

  All of it. So. Much. Worse.

  “Alex?” his dad called again. “If you’re not upstairs in one minute, I’m coming down after you.”

  Upstairs. He needed to get upstairs and tell his dad to get the hell out of here, but each step felt like it was through quicksand, slow and sucky. By the time he finally reached the top of the steps, the house shuddered again and glass shattering echoed down the hall. His dad wasn’t anywhere in sight. Maybe he’d left on his own. Except he couldn’t be that lucky.

  His father’s voice reverberated down the hall. Alex wasn’t sure who he was talking to and he didn’t care. He limped through the dining room and into the front parlor, taking note of all his stuff—DVDs, pictures, Ming—scattered on the floor. A riptide of memories bombarded him, threatening to pull him under again—watching movies with Mandy, going to dinner with Mandy, making love with Mandy—before he shoved them aside.

  No. He had to stay present, had to deal with all this before it was too late.

  His dad’s face appeared through Alex’s tunnel vision, his expression rife with fear and frustration. “Son, we have to leave. The building inspector is here and so is my crew. We need to let them work.”

  “No.” Alex straightened and headed back down the hallway. This house was all he had left. He couldn’t abandon it now. “I can fix this. There’s got to be a way—”

  “There’s no way to fix this, son.” His dad took his arm and tugged him toward the foyer. “Not by yourself. C’mon.”

  “Stop it!” He tried to wrench free, but his dad was stronger than he looked. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”

  “Because I love you,” his dad said, his voice gruff. “Whether you believe it or not.”

  Alex’s heart nosedived. Oh. Hell. No. He did pull free then, snarling. “Y
ou don’t love me. I’m nothing but a coward who needs to man up, remember?”

  His father flinched. “I said terrible things that day. Things I’ll regret forever, son, but I’ve educated myself and I’m determined to do better.”

  “Yeah?” Alex had had enough of people researching his issues, saying one thing and doing something else for one day. It was the last straw. “Then respect my wishes and go away!”

  His father took a deep breath and threw up his hands. “If I could, I would, but I can’t. Not this time. You need help here, and I’m going to see you get it. Not because you can’t handle things yourself, but because it’s the right thing to do.”

  Alex took that in for a moment, old hurts battling new understanding inside him. The analytical part of him, the logical part, knew his dad was right. But the other part of him, the emotional beast he’d let out of the cage when Mandy appeared a few weeks ago and now refused to go back into captivity, railed and made him say, “I don’t want your help. The whole point of this project was to prove to you and everyone else that I am still capable and can handle things myself.”

  His dad started to answer, but it was too late. The sound of equipment rattling outside was followed by a steady stream of workmen through the door. His dad’s crew had arrived, followed in short order by a man in a jacket with the Heavenly Falls town seal embroidered on the breast pocket.

  The guy walked over to them and pushed the brim of his orange hard hat up with one finger. “Tom Harper, building inspector. I need both of you to clear the area until after I’ve completed an emergency inspection of the premises.”

  “I’m not leaving.” Alex crossed his arms, digging in his heels. “This is my home.”

  His dad took Alex’s arm and led him to the front door. “Let’s get some air, son.”

  Wind blustered around them on the porch and Alex huddled in the corner, his sweater doing little to protect him from the chill. Red and blue lights flashed from the squad cars pulling up at the curb along with a fire truck. Neighbors began rubbernecking to see what all the commotion was about, and soon a small crowd formed on the sidewalk. Perfect. Now his mess of a life had become a huge spectacle. Exactly what Alex didn’t want.