If You Were Mine

by Melanie Harlow

“Ah.” My brother understood. “You haven’t told her about the conviction.”

  “No. Somehow I never worked up the nerve.” I shook my head, hating the part that came next. “So I bailed. I said some asshole shit and took off.”

  “Why? Do you think it will be a deal breaker if you told her the truth?”

  “Maybe. And I’d understand if it was. But it’s more than that,” I admitted. “The way she looks at me, the way she trusts me—it’s crazy how good it makes me feel.”

  “And you don’t want to lose that,” Aaron said. “You think if she knew the truth she’d never look at you that way again. Never trust you.”

  “Why should she?”

  “Because you’ll earn it.” Josie set her cup down and leaned forward. “I’m not saying it will be easy, but if you really like her, it’s worth a try, right?”

  “But what’s the point?” I argued. “Why go through the trouble of getting her to trust me when I’ll just fuck it up another way later on? When have I ever been able to keep a good thing going?”

  “I don’t know the answer to that,” she said. “But I’ve also never heard you talk this way about anyone.”

  “Me either,” said Aaron.

  “Do you want to be with her?” Josie asked.

  “I think so.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Yes.”

  “Then give her the chance to accept you,” she urged. “And give yourself the chance to be happy with her. To keep the good thing going, like you said.”

  “You mean go to her and tell her the truth? Ask for another chance?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “But you have to apologize for being an asshole and you have to mean it. You have to ask for another chance to do things right.”

  “But won’t I just give her the chance to shoot me down?”

  She shrugged. “Guess that’s a risk you’ll have to be willing to take. And don’t do this if you don’t want to follow through.” Her voice got a little sharper. “No woman wants to be lied to, Theo. If all you want is sex and hanging out, say it. Maybe she’ll be cool with that. But if she wants more and you don’t—”

  “I think I do, though,” I blurted. It was kind of a relief to say it out loud, to admit that I actually had feelings for her that went beyond sex. “But I need to be sure. I don’t want to hurt her again.”

  “Take some time to think, then.” She smiled. “You’ll figure it out.”

  Aaron stood up. “I’m going to check on the kids. If they’re asleep, we can bring out the gifts.”

  After he left the room, Josie spoke softly but her tone was steel. “Be a man, Theo. Just like you told Aaron to do. Be a man who owns his mistakes and takes responsibility for who he is. For who he wants to be.”

  Aaron came back in the room, smiling. “Out cold.”

  I rose to my feet. “Thanks,” I said quietly to Josie. “I appreciate it.”

  Following Aaron to the basement, I helped him carry up the presents, and we spread them around under the tree while Josie took the plate of cookies and carrots the girls had set out into the kitchen.

  “Not much, is it?” My brother grimaced. “I’ll do better next year.”

  I put a hand on his back. “It’s more than we had at their age. And they’re happy kids, Aaron. I’ve never seen them happier than they were tonight.”

  “I don’t deserve them, or Josie.” His voice was raw with emotion and he sniffed. “I knew just what you meant when you talked about the way that girl looks at you. I’m so damn lucky.”

  “You are,” I agreed.

  “Ever think about it? Having a family?”

  “No.”

  “You’d be a kickass dad.”

  I laughed a little. “Nah.”

  “You would. You’re amazing with my kids.”

  “That’s being an uncle. Being a father is…” I shook my head. As much as I enjoyed playing dad sometimes, twenty-four-hour-a-day responsibility for eighteen years—per child—was daunting. “I can’t imagine how hard it is. You’re totally responsible for real human beings at all times, not just occasionally.”

  “True. But along with that responsibility comes a lot of good stuff. There’s something to be said for being depended on that way. Being needed that way. Being loved that way. I never want to lose that again.” His voice wavered.

  I glanced sideways at him. “You’re scared you will?”

  “Every fucking minute,” he whispered, staring straight ahead. “I don’t want to be him.”

  My chest got tight, and I put an arm around him. “You’re not. It’s gonna be OK,” I told him. “And I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.”

  Josie came back in the room with the plate, which was now scattered with crumbs. “Look convincing?”

  I dropped my arm, and Aaron took a step back. “Very. I have a few more gifts for them in the car. Can I put them under the tree?”

  “Sure,” Josie said. “Would you like to stay over? Watch them open gifts in the morning?”

  I thought for a second. “Sure. Thanks.”

  Josie brought me a blanket and pillow, and I stretched out on the couch. When all the lights were off except the tree lights and the house was quiet, I lay there in the dark and thought about Claire. Wondered if she was asleep or awake. Wondered how dinner had gone. Wondered if she missed me. Wondered if I had the courage to go to her and ask for another chance.

  Would she accept me?

  I thought about what my brother had in Josie and the girls, and how nice it was to see him stepping up to be the person—husband, father, man—he wanted to be.

  It gave me hope.

  Twenty-Four

  Claire

  * * *

  Five days after Christmas, I packed two bags—one with clothing, one with art supplies—and headed out of town. I was reluctant to leave right in the middle of my kitchen restoration, but I wasn’t getting much joy out of the work anyway. It had been a lot more fun with Theo around.

  I was loading the bags and an easel into the car when my phone buzzed in my coat pocket. I didn’t recognize the number. Who’d be calling me at nine A.M. anyway?

  “Hello?”

  “Claire, it’s Theo.”

  My traitorous heart beat quicker. “What do you want? And how did you get this number?”

  “From the Hotties for Hire site. It’s on your membership application.”

  I frowned. “I need to cancel that.”

  “Yes, you do.” A pause. “I need to see you.”

  “I thought you didn’t need anything or anybody.” I didn’t even know why that hurt me so much—he’d told me flat out the day we met that he had no ties to any person, place or thing and liked it that way. Had I honestly thought I might be the exception? I was such a fucking fool.

  “I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean it.”

  What? I hesitated. “It took you a week to realize that?”

  “Yes, actually. It did. But I want to talk to you about it in person.”

  Part of me wanted to give in and see him, but I’d learned my lesson with Theo. “Well, I can’t. I’m going up to the cabin for a few days.”

  “What cabin?”

  “My family’s.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes, alone,” I snapped, aggravated that now he cared about my plans. “Want to know why? Because I couldn’t bear to let you ruin my Christmas Eve dinner by announcing our breakup, so I made up a lie that we were going on a romantic vacation together.”

  “Let me come with you. For real.”

  “Why? So you can fuck me and leave me again?” It wasn’t like me to be so crass, but he pushed all my buttons. Now he wanted to be real? Too late!

  “No. Please Claire, I just want to talk. I won’t even touch you.”

  “Ha! I don’t believe you, Mr. I’m Not Good At Stopping.”

  “There’s a lot of snow headed our way. The roads will be bad—you shouldn’t drive alone.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”<
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  He exhaled noisily. “What do I have to do to convince you to hear me out?”

  “I don’t know, Theo. I really don’t.” I hung up.

  Then I burst into tears.

  * * *

  The drive to the cabin usually took about four hours, but snow started to fall about an hour in, so it took me closer to six. I spent the time trying to take my mind off Theo by listening to an audio book. However, my audio library was full of nothing but romance, and three hours into the story, I was annoyed and frustrated with the heroine’s reluctance to commit to the amazing guy who wanted her.

  “Grow up!” I shouted at her. “Do you know how many women would love to have a man like that fall for them? I can’t even take you right now!”

  I turned it off in favor of catching up on NPR podcasts, but I was still grumpy when I pulled in the long driveway that led to my family’s vacation house.

  My mood improved slightly when the cabin came into view, covered with snow like frosting on a gingerbread house. We’d always called it “the cabin,” but the only cabin-like thing about it was that it was built from logs and located in the woods. In reality, it was four thousand square feet of luxury. Since my mother is afraid to fly but my father loves to get away, they built the cabin after they got married to have a place to go. My sister and I had spent every summer here growing up, and my parents planned to retire here.

  Summers were beautiful, but I’d always loved winter up here too—the snow made it look like a wonderland, and the play of light and shadow as the sun shone through the bare branches of the birch trees was exquisite. I was always inspired by it, and by the tiny bursts of color when a cardinal or bluebird or robin stopped to eat at one of the bird feeders my father and I hung in the trees. First thing, I wanted to walk one of the hiking trails through the woods, but I needed to get some winter gear on first. The snow was a foot deep.

  After deactivating the alarm, I let myself in the front door and locked it behind me. I took the bag with my clothes up to my room and left the bag with the supplies by the giant floor to ceiling windows overlooking the woods and frozen lake. A quick check of the pantry, fridge, and freezer told me I had plenty of staples but I’d have to hit the grocery store for milk and fresh produce. Not right this second, though—I was antsy to get outside and move my legs after the long car ride. A quick walk would be perfect, then I’d brave the slippery roads again.

  I tugged on ski pants and snow boots I found in the mudroom, traded my wool coat for a ski jacket, and rummaged through a bin for a warm hat, scarf, and mittens. Tucking my phone and the cabin keys into one pocket, I set out, inhaling deep breaths of fresh cold air, watching snowflakes on my tongue. It was so quiet—all I could hear was wind through the trees, birds singing, and the crunch of snow beneath my feet.

  But I couldn’t find peace or inspiration. Both eluded me as I walked, pausing only when I came to the tire swing that still hung from a tree not far from the house. I gave it a push and watched it sway back and forth, but I didn’t get on it. Instead I imagined a little boy clinging to the tire…a beautiful little brown-eyed boy trying to escape what was going on inside his house. My throat tightened.

  Had I been too hard on him? He’d had a rough start in life. I wished he’d been more open with me about it, but he’d only seemed willing to talk about his brother’s issues. Maybe if he’d shared some of his own experiences or feelings with me, I’d understand him better.

  Sighing, I walked back to the house, giving my easel a sad glance before grabbing my car keys. I didn’t feel inspired enough to paint, so I might as well go get some groceries for the next few days.

  The next seventy-two hours loomed long and lonely in front of me.

  * * *

  Snow was falling even heavier now, and the roads were worse. It was dark when I finally got back from the store, and I was chilled to the bone. I put on a pot of sweet potato chili, and while it was simmering, I took a long, hot shower and put on my flannel pajamas. That was one good thing about being up here—I could lie around in comfy pants all day.

  I was just cozying up on the couch with my Kindle and a soft blanket when I heard a knock on the front door.

  What the hell? Who could that be?

  Warily I approached the entrance and peeked through one of the windows that flanked the big wooden door. It was dark outside, but motion sensors had triggered the porch light.

  It was Theo.

  Immediately a battle broke out inside me, one side clamoring to let him in and hear him out, the other desperate to defend its uncompromising position.

  He looks so good! And it’s so cold and snowy out there, and he drove all this way to find you!

  Who cares about how he looks! He uses his hotness as a weapon—don’t be fooled! He can probably melt snow with one glance.

  I backed away from the window, but not before he saw me.

  “Claire,” he shouted through the door. “Please let me in.”

  “No!” I crossed my arms. “Why should I?”

  “I drove eight hours through a blizzard to talk to you.”

  “Then you wasted your time. How did you even find me?”

  “I called your mom’s house.”

  My jaw dropped and I yanked the door open. Snow swirled in on a frigid gust on wind. “You did what?”

  “Thank God. It’s fucking freezing out there.” He pushed the door shut behind him and inhaled. “Jesus Christ, it smells so good in here. And it’s so warm, and you’re so beautiful.”

  I would not be swayed by flattery. But since my heart did not appear to get the message and was beating madly, I stepped back, crossing my arms over my chest again. No entry. “You called my mother?”

  “I had to. To get the address of this place.”

  “And she gave it to you?” I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Mom! Scold me about locking my doors but give out my location to a virtual stranger!”

  “But I’m not a stranger. I’m your boyfriend, remember? And you were so disappointed that I had to meet you at the cabin instead of drive with you because of a last-minute business trip to Chicago, so I wanted to send you flowers to make it up to you before I arrived.” He took a step toward me, and I put out my hands.

  “Stay right there.”

  “OK.” He stopped moving and just looked at me. “I missed you.”

  “I can’t believe my mother fell for that.”

  His mouth hooked up on one side. “I’m very charming when I want to be.”

  “It’s not charm, it’s lies. And it won’t work on me anymore.” Although that crooked smile had my stomach fluttering. “I was playing the game by your rules, and you stomped all over me.”

  His smile fell away, replaced by a grave expression. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “I didn’t even want to play that game.”

  “I know.”

  “So if you’re here just to ask me to play another round of sex-without-expectations, the answer is no.”

  “I’m not. I want more.”

  “You do?” I blinked. Was this for real?

  “Yes.”

  I stood there, momentarily struck dumb. I had no idea what to do.

  “Can I come closer?” he asked.

  “I guess,” I said cautiously, twisting my fingers together at my waist.

  He closed the distance between us until we were nearly chest to chest. His eyes were sincere, his tone solemn. “I’m sorry I walked out like that the last time I saw you. I never should have treated you that way.”

  “Why did you?”

  “Because I panicked. I’d convinced myself that what we were doing was just a temporary thing—I wasn’t going to stay in your life. That meant I didn’t have to tell you things about myself I don’t like sharing.”

  “Like what?” I gasped. “Oh God, you have a wife.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “What? No. I don’t have a wife.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Well, lots of things.”
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  I tapped my bare foot. “I’m listening.”

  “I’ve fucked up every good thing in my life by giving up on it. Running away from it.”

  “And?”

  “And the reason I don’t let anyone get close to me is because I know I’ll disappoint them.”

  Something tugged at my heart, but I did my best to ignore it. “And?”

  “And there are things in my past I’m not proud of.”

  “Such as?”

  He looked me right in the eye. “Nine years ago, I was convicted of a felony and served a year in prison for it.”

  It was as if he’d punched me. A solid blow right to the gut. “What?” What was a felony? Was that like…murder? I backed away from him a little. “What did you do?”

  “Stole a car,” he said matter-of-factly, his face grave. “It was a stupid, fucked-up, drunken night with friends that got out of control. I’m ashamed of it, and I hate talking about it, but I can’t change it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I asked. My mind was reeling. How did I feel about all this? What else was he hiding? No wonder he’d been so reluctant to talk about himself! But I sympathized too—he was revealing some deeply personal fears and feelings. That took a lot of guts.

  Theo put his hands in his jacket pockets. “I didn’t think I needed to. We’d just met, and that’s something I don’t put out there right away.”

  I guess I understood that, but still. “What about after that? What about the night you came back? What about the entire next day we spent together?”

  “I could have done it then,” he admitted, “but I didn’t see the point.”

  “The point was that I trusted you, and you didn’t trust me!” I yelled, pointing at his chest and then mine.

  He grimaced. “You’re right. And deep down, I know that part of the reason I didn’t tell you was because of that trust you had in me. The way you looked at me, I…” He shook his head and shrugged helplessly. “No one’s ever looked at me that way before. And it made me feel so good. I didn’t want to give that up.”

  “You thought I wouldn’t trust you after that?”

  “Yeah. I mean, why should you?”