If I Only Knew

by Corinne Michaels

  My brother bores me. There’s no other way to describe it. He’s always been a bit stuffy, but now he’s truly . . . drab.

  Every rule he follows.

  Every part of his life has been analyzed and combed through to find the right choice that will yield him the proper results. The only impulsive decision he’s ever made was marrying Nicole.

  I have to give him credit, she’s definitely the best choice he’s made. The fact he had to move across the Atlantic, however, is what brought our relationship to this point. Had he stayed in London, this luncheon wouldn’t be necessary.

  “You wanted to talk?” Callum asks as he cuts his steak.

  “Not exactly, but you asked if we could have this little conversation, so I’m assuming it’s about my position in the company.” I grab the glass of scotch and take a sip while I wait.

  “Are you leaving?” he finally asks.

  “To go . . .?”

  Callum places the fork and knife down, pats his mouth with the napkin, and then shrugs.

  I don’t know what that means, so I stay quiet and wait. Does he think I’m quitting? Does he want to go to another restaurant? Really the options are endless.

  “You’re going to make me say it?” Callum finally asks.

  “Clearly I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about, so yes.”

  “To London, Milo. Are you leaving to go back home? Because we both know this little charade isn’t going to last much longer. In fact, I’m rather surprised you’ve endured it for this amount of time. We both know you’re unhappy.”

  This is again where I find my brother to be dim. He thinks he knows everything about me, but never bothers to actually ask.

  I lean back in my chair. “How wonderful that you’re a mind reader now, Cal. I didn’t know you had so many talents.”

  “You can’t tell me being her assistant is what you want.”

  “Piss off. You don’t know what I want. Or you don’t care because you’re a bastard who doesn’t give a toss about anyone else.”

  Callum laughs. “You think I enjoy the calls from Mum about her little baby not having his job back?”

  “Maybe she thinks you’re a prat.”

  I’m sure that’s not true. Not her perfect Callum who does everything right. She loves to point out all my faults and remind me of how I continue to disappoint her. I’m tired of trying to find the sun in Callum’s shadow. It’s exhausting and humiliating.

  “Maybe she thinks you’re never going to change.”

  “Then she’s right. I’m the same irresponsible man I was all those years ago, right? Same old Milo, different country.”

  He shakes his head. “I thought you had changed these last few weeks. Seeing you with Danielle, being a team player and all. I guess I was wrong.”

  “Again, you make assumptions. Have I caused a single problem since I’ve been back?”

  “No.”

  “Have I asked you to reinstate me as an executive?”

  “No, and why is that, Milo?”

  Because that would mean Danielle would lose her job.

  That reason alone should have me running for the next flight to London.

  What in the bloody hell is wrong with me? I came here to get my job back and destroy the bastard who took it from me. I wanted revenge of the mightiest kind. My goals were clear, my plan was foolproof, and then I met her.

  I found out that she was not so easy to take down, and I saw what it would cost her. Turns out that she’s not a bastard at all. She’s actually quite perfect.

  “Because I’m a fool,” I say to Callum.

  “Ah.” He smirks. “I guess I don’t have to ask why, since when I walked in you were about to kiss her.”

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Callum rests his arms on the table. “Did I ever tell you the story about when Dad met Mum?”

  My face falls because the last thing I want is a trip down memory lane. “Really? No, and I don’t care to know either.”

  He continues on as though my answer is irrelevant. “Mum and I have a different version of the story, even though the outcome was the same. What Mum doesn’t know is that I used to listen to his phone calls. He knew my biological father, and I suspect that he was placed in our lives for a reason. You know my father was a ruthless business man who thrived on making others cower to him. I think he wanted the same for Mum, but we know there’s not much that will make that woman roll over.”

  “Is there a point here, Callum?”

  I don’t care about this. Dad is gone and however they met has no bearing on my life.

  “Don’t be a tosser.” He glares. “I’m telling you that Dad didn’t meet Mum and just fall in love. Sometimes you find yourself together and you choose to feel or not. You’re not a heartless bastard, Milo, but you sure are daft.”

  “How do you figure?”

  Callum throws his napkin on the table. “I’m not going to point it out to you. I think you bloody know what has you so pissed off right now.”

  “Yeah, you,” I toss back.

  “I know,” Callum laughs and stands. “I’m the villain as always. It has nothing to do with your feelings towards Danielle. Suddenly it’s all me who is making your life difficult. Am I right?”

  He can fuck off. I don’t need this. I don’t feel anything but the desire to punch him in his mouth. Danielle has made it clear what she thinks of me, and she’s right. I’m a selfish bastard who’s unfit for a relationship.

  I’m the guy who will hurt her because I don’t know any other way.

  I will fail her, because my history says that it’s inevitable.

  In no way am I deserving of her and pursuing her will only end one way—disaster.

  I get to my feet and toss money on the table. “No, you’re just the wanker who needs to mind his fucking business.”

  “And here I thought we were going to have a nice lunch.”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I guess we both know better than to try again.”

  I start to walk out the door, not wanting to deal with his shit for a minute longer, but he grabs my arm as I get outside.

  “I’ll keep trying. I want you to know that. Not because of Mum or any of that, but because you have a family who gives a damn about you, regardless of what you think. You have a nephew who should know his uncle, and Nicole apparently likes you, although once she gets to know you, she might change her mind. Also, you have a brother who is tired of not having his brother around. I’m not giving up on you, no matter how hard you push me away.”

  He claps me on the arm, and heads to his car as I stand there without the ability to speak.

  In all my life, Callum has never shown me that he cared. He’s always been too driven to deal with my shit. I’m not sure how I feel about this.

  Callum drives away, and I’m like a statue, still trying to process what just happened.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Danielle

  “And did you knowingly enter Mr. Bergen’s office with the gun?” The prosecutor asks as my hands begin to shake.

  “Well, I knowingly had the gun, but I wasn’t looking for him specifically,” the man who killed Peter replies.

  I’m amazed at how calm and collected he is. As if this is a day like any other. Not a single ounce of remorse on his face.

  I didn’t plan to be here. After that first day in court, I’ve found every excuse to miss it. Yet somehow, I’m sitting here, listening and wishing I had stayed away. I needed to leave the office after what happened with Milo. I grabbed my purse and headed to my favorite little food stand by the beach. I sat there, watching the waves lap the shore, wondering how the hell I got here.

  Sure, life is crazy. I get that. But this is beyond crazy. This is out of control.

  I thought about my kids, my friends, and my family. Before I knew it, I was done eating and instead of heading back to the office, it was as if someone else was driving my car, bri
nging me to the courthouse.

  I don’t know why I felt compelled to be here. Maybe it was because my last thoughts while watching the ocean were about Peter. Maybe it was the guilt of almost kissing Milo again. There was a niggling feeling inside of me that there was something important happening, and I was right. Adam McClellan wasn’t supposed to take the stand today, but I’m sitting here, watching it happen.

  “And was your intention to use the gun?” she asks.

  “I didn’t go there to kill him if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Then what was your motive?”

  He looks at me for a moment and I swear my heart stops. I’m not sitting up front this time. I’m in the back, trying to hide behind anyone I can. However, he zeroes right in on me.

  “Mr. McClellan.” She steps in front of him, breaking the eye contact. “Did you have a motive when you went to Mr. Bergen’s office?”

  “I was just going to scare them a bit.”

  “With a loaded gun?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah.”

  “And then what happened?” she pushes him.

  I can’t listen to this, not without someone beside me.

  I reach my hand out, wishing Milo was here to hold it.

  Funny that my mind goes to him. He’s what has me so torn up inside. I shouldn’t think about him the way I do. I shouldn’t want to be around him all the damn time. I definitely shouldn’t be sitting in my husband’s trial, thinking about Milo, but I am.

  My chest aches and I realize that I have to get out of here. This is wrong and I’m even more of a mess than I realized. I slide over towards the end of the bench, but when I get to the edge, Milo walks in.

  His eyes find mine and he levels me with one look. He watches me as he sits beside me. “Were you leaving?” he asks in a hushed tone.

  “Why are you here? How did you find me?”

  Why did you magically appear when I wished you would? Is what I want to say.

  He moves in close and my heart races. “I called your phone, couldn’t find you, so I opened your Find My Phone app, and figured it out.”

  Now my assistant is Sherlock Holmes. Just what I need.

  “Great.” My voice is laced with sarcasm.

  Milo confuses me, takes my emotions and puts them in a blender and sets it on high. I don’t know whether I want to lean on him for support or run screaming.

  Adam takes a few seconds, his eyes find mine again in the crowd and I could vomit. Everything inside of me feels cold and dead. He doesn’t get to look at me. He shouldn’t be allowed to sit there looking so smug.

  “I walked into his office. He was sitting there . . .”

  I cover my ears with my hands. This is too much. I should have known better than to stay here.

  Milo glances at the stand, seeing who is there and then turns back to me. He pulls my hands down, and he speaks softly, lips brushing my ear. “There’s nothing he can say that you haven’t already pictured in your mind.”

  Adam’s angry voice replaces the gentle one of Milo’s. “I asked him to call my lawyer, but he wouldn’t. I told him I wasn’t playing around, and he told me to calm down.”

  I look at Milo. “Isn’t it better to live with the lie?” I whisper.

  Milo takes my hand again. “Never.”

  I’ve gone through a million scenarios in my mind on how Peter was killed. They played out like a movie before me. Each scene more graphic and horrendous than the last. Did he beg for his life? Was it fast? Did Peter save another lawyer by sacrificing himself?

  More than anything, I want to know if Peter thought of me and the kids. Was there a moment when our faces were in his mind, and he felt our love?

  I hope so.

  I hope, more than anything, in his final breath he knew how much he meant to me. How his love and determination kept our family together.

  Milo is right, though. I’ll never know what Peter was thinking. I’ll never get those answers, but I can get these.

  “Mr. McClellan, how did the gun go off?”

  I grip Milo’s hand tighter, feeling as though it’s the only thing holding me to this world right now. I feel weightless, dizzy, and unsteady. However, I can’t take my eyes off of what’s unfolding now.

  “I don’t know,” he replies.

  “You don’t know?”

  “I was holding it, and then it . . . went off.”

  The prosecutor doesn’t waste a second. “Did you fire the weapon?”

  “No. Like I said, it was an accident. The gun went off on its own.”

  The defense is lying. I’ve seen this done before and I pray to God it doesn’t work. If they can plant a seed of doubt that the murder was accidental, this man could walk away with a slap on the wrists. There are no witnesses to the actual shooting of the gun, just the video showing him walking in and out of the office. No one actually saw Adam kill Peter.

  The prosecutor takes a slow walk in front of the jury.

  “You mean to tell me that you went to the office with a loaded gun, and Mr. Bergen ends up shot, but you never meant to harm him?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “You had no intention of using the gun? Yet you put a full chamber of bullets in it?”

  Adam drops his head. “No, I wanted to talk to my lawyer. I wasn’t even there to see Peter.”

  My fingers squeeze harder and Milo does the same in return.

  “With a loaded gun?”

  Slowly, Adam raises his gaze, I watch as he attempts to look contrite. “Yeah, but it wasn’t supposed to be loaded. I thought it was empty.”

  “So you mean to tell me that it misfired multiple times? Because he was shot multiple times—shots that took him away from his wife and children forever.”

  “Like I said, I was an accident. And I’m sorry for his family and all, but there’s a chance he abused his wife and kids – that’s what I heard anyway. So if that’s the case, maybe it’s not the worst thing that could have happened.”

  And I lose it.

  I’m out of my seat, unable to control my emotions a minute longer.

  “Liar!” I scream out. “You stole him from us and you have no remorse! How dare you!”

  “Order!” The judge calls.

  I continue to yell, but I don’t know what I’m saying. Just anger and devastation come out from my lips. That bastard killed my husband in cold blood and now he’s trying to tarnish his memory.

  Milo’s arms are around my waist, pulling me out of the courtroom while the judge bangs his gavel and yells for order over and over.

  My heart is pounding so hard in my chest I worry I’ll bruise. I hate him. I hate that I’m so weak and I came here anyway.

  When the door closes, I collapse in Milo’s arms. He holds me to his chest as I fall to pieces. I cling to him, trying to bury my face because no one should see me.

  “It’s all right, Danielle,” Milo tells me as I sob. “You’re all right now.”

  I’m not all right. I’m a crazy person who lost it in the courtroom. No one will remember Peter’s smile. They’ll see his psycho widow screaming at a man on trial. I did this. I know better, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  Anger replaces my shame and I suddenly don’t want comfort.

  “No, it’s not!” I push back out of his arms. “I just delivered the defense a small victory. I did that. I gave them something.”

  “You gave them nothing.”

  “I did!” I tell him. “I fucking know better. I need to leave. I knew I couldn’t handle this. I can’t handle anything because everything I touch falls apart.”

  Milo grips my arms, stopping me from walking away. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “Did you miss that scene in there, Milo? Did you close your eyes and miss the lunatic that went crazy in there?”

  “You don’t see how magnificent you are. You’re handling the weight of the world and you don’t give yourself any credit, do you?”

  I’ve done nothing but fuck things u
p left and right.

  “Please,” I scoff. “I don’t deserve credit for anything. Don’t you get it? I destroyed everything!”

  He’s not hearing what I say, though. He takes two strides forward and pulls me in his arms.

  I may be falling apart, but he’s holding me together. Milo leans his forehead against mine. “You don’t see yourself.”

  I wish that were true. But I saw everything I just did, and none of it I like. “You only see what you want,” I say.

  Milo lifts his head, wiping the tear that’s slowly falling, leaving little black rivers against my skin. “I see you. I wish I didn’t sometimes. You can continue to push back, and that’s fine, but I’ve been dealing with people doing it to me my entire life, Danielle. I’ve gotten bloody good at fighting back and I’ll fight for you.”

  I’m not pushing him away. I’m breaking apart. There’s a difference. All my fight is gone. Watching that was too much. “You don’t want me, I’m damaged.”

  “And I’m not?”

  “Not in the same way, Milo.”

  He rubs my cheek with his thumb. “All of us are imperfect. All of us have flaws. All of us are undeserving of something, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want more.”

  Another tear falls as I look at him. “Why are you here? Why did you come for me?”

  “Because I needed to see you.”

  The walls that are usually around him are down. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes. Something I saw the other night, and it shakes me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m emotionally raw or because of what he’s shown me the last few weeks, but I lift my hand to touch his face. “What’s happening with us?”

  Milo brings his lips to my forehead and places a soft kiss there. “I don’t know, but I’m not sure I’m strong enough to stay away from you.”

  I look up at him, realizing that even during this nightmare of a trial, I wanted him. I wished he would be here so I could lean on him. He’s been there for me in a way I didn’t expect, and I find myself craving him.

  “I’m not either,” I admit.

  Slowly, Milo brings his lips to mine. Softly he kisses me, and for one second, I don’t feel like I’m a mess. I feel safe, and that’s a very bad thing to feel in his arms.