Breaking Hearts (13 page)

“You did ask me out. Then you blew me off for him and your sister.” He’d made up for it later…many, many times. My body warmed and I ran a finger down his arm.

“I remember being with you, loving you, holding you, thinking I would never be able to live without you. I don’t have many true memories left, but I remember you.” As if to emphasize his point, he lowered his lids to a sexy half-mast-just-woke-up-gaze. “The first time you kissed me, at my mom’s Christmas party, you had on a white dress with fur at the collar. Do
you
remember?”

I nodded. “You brought me upstairs to play video games. And you let me win.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t let you win. I couldn’t concentrate on the game. All I could think about”--he ran his thumb over my lips--“was this mouth and how perfect it fit with mine.”

If only he knew…later the same night, I’d fallen into bed with Keaton and ended up dating him. “It was a long time ago, Simon.”

“Not for me, Dani. For me, that’s the moment I knew loving you wasn’t my choice. It’s my destiny, and I’ll do it for the rest of my life, no matter what happens between us. I will always wait for you.”

“Yeah. You waited for me with Kelly. God, I wanted to hurt you so bad. I couldn’t think of anything else.” Our relationship did not need any more of my drunken admissions, but the words poured out. “I really did go to help Keaton. He was so broken. But boy did I want you to know where I was at. I wanted you all to think I’d made him my love slave.”

I shook my head and tried to suck the last drops of whiskey from the bottom of the bottle. Nothing. “Still, no matter what I did, he would
not
give it up. I tried for a while. But he loved her so much. I watched him die a little bit every day. So, I did what any good friend would do. I talked him into trying to win her back. Somehow, he turned it all around and convinced me to come home to see you. I hauled my butt across two countries to find you playing kissy face with Lizette, the Amazon baker.” An admission like that deserved another drink. I pushed him off the chair and swayed to a half stance, holding onto the arm for support. When the world stopped spinning, I staggered to the door. I turned to face him and bumped into his chest. “I mean, logistically, how did it work? Isn’t she like seven foot tall?”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back to the chair. “Six, and I’m still taller.” He used his thumb and forefinger to indicate the fraction of an inch he had on her.

“Oh. Are you sure?”

He had such a great laugh. “Yeah.”

I leaned into him and closed my eyes. “You were the guy I always wanted, Simon.”

For the next week, Simon, as my big protector, watched me drink every stashed and locked-up drop of alcohol I could get. Every night, he put me to bed, and when I awoke, we started the cycle all over again.

“Why are you still here?”

“I hate to miss a good pity party.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, gear up, big fella, because you’re in for a treat today. I found the key to my dad’s wine cellar, and I am holding a bottle of Chardonnay
dying
to be opened.” It took me three tries before I got the screw into the bottle’s neck, but finally, with a few quick twists and a determined pull, the cork hissed free with a quiet pop. The fine aroma of Italian grapes delighted my nasal passages.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh, good. I love surprises. Can’t get enough of those.” I rolled my eyes and swayed backward.

His body, close enough my back rubbed against his chest, prevented my fall. “I know. And I went all out for this one.” With a hand on each shoulder, he propelled me away from the counter.

“Well, spectacular planning, then.” Over my shoulder, I toasted him with the bottle as he steered me through the kitchen. He opened the door and pushed me through. My mouth hanging open had a direct correlation to the rest of my appendages becoming useless and immobile. I blinked a couple of times, unsure of the message my eyes were sending my brain.

“Hey, Dani.”

Keaton.
Had I really sank so low Simon felt he should bring Keaton in on this whole debacle? Of course, I had.

He reached out a hand I ignored as I brushed past both of them. With a look at Simon, he shook his head. “I’m probably going to end up divorced over this.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll handle Jocelyn. You handle this one.”

Keaton nodded, then turned his entire body to face me. “Wow. You look frightening.”

“Who asked you?” I weaved my way to a chair at the table and sat heavily as I flipped him off. “Keep your ‘pinions to yourself, Keats. I’m not drunk enough to not care what you think about me.” I took a big gulp and grinned. “Hang in there, though. It won’t be long.”

“Have you been feeding her?” He ignored me and looked over at Simon.

“She won’t eat. Just drinks herself to sleep.”

“Obviously not a big fan of hair brushing, either.” His dry tone should have inspired some sort of reaction, yet I couldn’t produce more than a pointed finger in his direction. I looked down at my bottle and focused on the flavor of the wine as I swished it in my mouth. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.” I turned my body halfway, his stomach at my eye level. After a moment of searching, I found his face. “Why don’t you hate me, Keaton?” It was a question I had been dying to ask him since I returned home.

He stroked the top of my head. “You saved my life.” He crouched down beside my chair, cupped my cheek in his hand. “And now it is time for me to return the favor. Give me the wine.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“Get your own, Keaton.” I pulled the bottle to my side, thinking I could keep it from him.

With a smile, he wrestled it away and emptied the wine out on the cool concrete, then pulled a chair up next to mine as Simon stood back, arms crossed, and watched. “You wanna tell me about it?”

“Yes, you moron. It was a three hundred dollar bottle of wine--semi-sweet with an oaky finish and just a hint of buttery tones…. And I really wanna smack you for pouring it out.”

“Yeah. I remember that feeling.” He took my hand for a gentle squeeze. “I seem to recall you pouring three bottles of Jack Daniels down the drain.”

I glared at him for a moment before a sob I didn’t expect bubbled up and out of my mouth. “I am not a good person. I’m a terrible friend, an awful mom. I didn’t protect my baby and now my parents had to take him away, because even here, in the fortress of solitude, I can’t keep Sean away from him.”

He pulled my chair closer to his and threw an arm around my shoulders. “Dani, you got him out of there. You
did
protect him. You saved him from whatever worse things that bastard could have done to him.”

“I don’t know if he’s ever going to smile again, or laugh. God, what have I done? He can’t ever be carefree again. He’ll always have
that
look from
that
memory of what Sean did.” Tears streamed down my face. “Of what I did.”

Keaton brushed his palm along my cheek, then raked his fingers into my hair. “You didn’t do it, but you’re the only one who can
un
do it.” He petted me as though I belonged to the feline community rather than the human one. “You made him strong, Dani. You made him brave, and he’ll get through this.”

My shoulders slumped. I couldn’t imagine a time where I’d ever believe his words.

“Hey.” He tilted my chin up. “There is something magical about you. You slayed the dragon and he knows it.” He grinned and brushed away a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb. “You’re the super hero in his story. We should get you a cape, and some tights. Maybe a hair brush.”

I half smiled, then frowned again. “I let him get hurt. A mother, a
good
mother, doesn’t do that.” I spun away from Keaton and came face to face with Simon. Walking toward the house seemed like a good idea. There was a whole cellar full of wine in there.

“Well, you can’t help him like this, and you can’t beat Sean if you’re going to spend all your time too drunk to stand. Do you really want Kieran to grow up with a drunk for a mom?”

When I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass, I let go of the doorknob and lifted a hand to smooth my hair, but my fingers became tangled in a knot hours of conditioning wouldn’t remove. “Wow. I look bad.”

“You look like you gave up.” Keaton came to stand beside me, arms crossed, head down. “You know, you have a lot of people here who will help you if you let them.” At my nod, he chuckled. “Now, go get cleaned up so the argument I’m going to have to suffer through with my wife isn’t all for nothing.” He grinned. “Besides, if I don’t quit pawing you, your boyfriend over there”--he nodded toward Simon--“is probably going to push me in the pool.”

“I doubt that.”

Keaton shook his head and moved closer. “You’re such a dumb girl.” He bumped his shoulder into mine, then reached out to prevent me from face planting into the concrete. “He couldn’t leave you, Dani.” He leaned closer. “You told me once you wanted someone to love you the way I love Joss. All you have to do is let him.”

My smile caught on a sob.

“And maybe take a shower.”

“Shut up, Keaton.”

He hugged me one more time. “You good?”

I nodded.

“No more drinking, okay? Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good. Now, get cleaned up and give him a reason to stay.”

After I showered, combed my hair, and brushed the stale wine taste from my mouth, I curled my hair, and picked out clean clothes. I’d lost a bit of weight, and they hung looser than they had a week earlier.
Shit.
Oh well. I could buy new clothes, but I could never replace Simon. And God knew I’d tried.

I trudged slowly downstairs unsure how he would react to last week’s events, but I could almost stand up straight and not bob or weave into the walls. Maybe that would be enough.

He stood in front of the stove with a spoon in one hand and a spatula in the other. Plates and bowls along with silverware gleamed under the lights over the counter. The flames from two tapered candles in crystal holders danced in the middle.

“You look pretty.” He brought my hand to his lips before leading me to a stool.

“You’re easy to please.”
Thank God
.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he snapped my mother’s linen napkin through the air before placing it in my lap. “I made grilled cheese and French fries.”

My stomach flopped and I shook my head.

He cocked his head to the side. “It’s good drunk food.”

“Oh.” I followed him to the stove, slipped my arms around his waist, and laid my cheek against his back as he flipped the sandwich. “Thank you.”

“It’s just grilled cheese.” He laid a hand over mine as I squeezed him.

“No. It’s you.” I loosened my grip so he could turn. On my tiptoes, I tried to press a kiss against his upturned lips, but I only reached his chin. “I don’t remember you being this tall.”

He leaned over and kissed the tip of my nose. “I don’t remember much of anything.”

Being with Simon made me more whole than I’d been since I first left Storybook Lake, and more vulnerable than the last time he’d dumped me. I stared up at him for a few seconds, pondering how I’d ever be able to keep him. I’d messed up everything in my life so badly; I wouldn’t have blamed him if he walked away right then…. But he wouldn’t. Sean or not, I wouldn’t let him.

The reasons he’d left me before no longer existed. I’d changed from the semi-spoiled, more-evil-than-I-cared-to-admit-girl who used my body for her own wicked pleasures. Not that the new version of myself had turned out much better, but the old reasons--my mean girl, don’t-give-a-crap-life decisions--had been dispensed with. Warm realization spread through me. With Simon, I had a chance for the happiness Sean promised and never delivered. It might have been a chance I didn’t particularly deserve, but if I didn’t grab onto it with both hands and hang on as long as I could, it would be my own fault if he left me. I had to tell him.

As I opened my mouth to bust out my secret, he brushed his soft lips across mine and I held on, deepening the kiss, need pooling in my stomach. With one hand on my hip and the other tangled in my hair, he walked me backward until I leaned against the counter. He lifted me so I sat on the cool granite and we were eye to eye. Everything I needed to say was forgotten. Only Simon existed in that moment. Only he mattered.

“Dani.”

The whisper spurred me on as I left a trail of kisses down his neck. Something about this man captivated me, and I couldn’t let go, even as the smoke alarm shrilled.

“I think your sandwich is finished.”

“I don’t care.”

We didn’t fall into bed that night. And the decision to walk away tested my willpower in ways I’d never known. After some serious making out in the kitchen, we chit chatted over lunch. More than once I thought of telling him about Kieran, but I wanted to say it the right way. Or maybe, I was selfish and wanted more time with him before I dared risk losing him over a secret I never meant to keep. Maybe I just wanted him to see me in this version of myself.

It didn’t escape me that the longer I remained quiet about it, the worse the fallout would be. I imagined a nuclear war reality more than once. That was the dystopian feeling I always experienced when I thought of losing Simon. It should have been enough to get me to talk to him, but no. Instead, I sat beside him with his arm around my shoulders. I grinned like a hopeless fool. We watched a couple movies, ate dinner, then watched more TV. Sometime close to dawn, I went up to bed. Alone.

I spent a long time thinking of Simon while he slept downstairs on the sofa. Everything about him seemed effortless. His smiles were easy--never had to be coaxed or pulled. His wit came quick, his courage without a second thought. Even his recovery from a bullet tearing though his brain had progressed with a speed doctors took dubious credit for.

The problem in our relationship hadn’t been with him. I’d been exactly the person Jocelyn believed, worse even, and no matter how hard I wished to be better, I hadn’t changed. He deserved more.