Promises (New Beginnings Book 2) (13 page)

"Yeah," John shrugged, "Even Maggie will love it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elijah turn and glared.

"It's just that we've watched you moon over her for years, never having the balls to tell her how you feel," he explained. "She's a tough one."

"Don't I know it." Elijah walked into the room where the bed had been left and they immediately started putting it together. It was the last piece. He lifted his eyes and did a sweep of the room. It was perfect. Maggie would love it. Or … she’d hate it. He didn't know. But what he did know was that it was what she needed. Now he only had to keep her away from the house until it was time to show her. He didn't know how long that would be.

She only had a little bit of time left before school started up again, so it shouldn't be that hard. She'd be busy over the next couple weeks.

If Jason came over, he'd just keep the room locked. Not like he would come. Elijah still hadn't heard from him, but he trusted Maggie to figure out what was going on with her cousin. He decided not to worry about it.

"Can't let my wife come here," Patrick said, straightening up out of his crouch and stretching. "She'll want me to do this in our house."

"Thank you guys for helping out," Elijah looked at each of them. "I know you had better things you could have spent your day off doing."

"Glad to help, man," John punched him lightly in the shoulder. "What you're doing is a good thing, for more than just Maggie."

Elijah nodded. "I just hope it's the right thing."

Sixteen

There they were - her father's last words. Maggie had thrown the envelope on the table as soon as she got home, and was now pacing back and forth in front of it.

She was glad Elijah wasn't home, but she also wished he was there with her. It was contradictory, she knew. But Elijah was the only person besides her ex-husband who would understand how she was feeling as she burned a path into the floor. She couldn't stop moving. When she finally stilled, she'd have to make a decision.

When she first told Jake she didn't want the letter, she meant it. But Jake had known her for a long time. He probably knew exactly how she was reacting to it right at that moment.

"Damn him!" Maggie shrieked. "Damn both of them!" The two men who’d hurt her purposefully. Her father and her husband. Her husband and her father. It was the booze, they'd say. They got sober, they'd claim.

"Yeah, but not until they'd already done the damage." Maggie threw herself onto the couch, glaring back towards the table.

How was she supposed to feel? She hated the man. But she also loved the man, which made her hate him more. He’d been sober for two years before he died and hadn't contacted her. Why should she care now?

But she did. Because she was Maggie. She cared. She always cared.

Part of her wanted to shove the envelope down the disposal and listen as it was shredded to pieces. But a bigger part of her wanted to see a small glimpse into her father when he wasn't drunk, the real man.

She leaned her head back on the arm of the couch and stared at the ceiling, breathing deeply. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She had to read it. If she didn't, she knew she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

Huffing out a sigh, Maggie sat up and slowly swung her legs around to plant her feet on the floor. Her movements were stiff, cautious, as she walked towards the table. The envelope sat there, bent and slightly dirty.

Now that she really looked at it, she saw that her name was slightly smudged, as if someone's hand had brushed the ink before it was fully dry. A laughed bubbled out of her chest. It was so very much like her father. She knew the problem well. Their left-handed problems were one of the only things they had ever had in common.

The small smile that had appeared at the memory turned down as she lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of paper. The envelope fell from her grasp and she let it float to the ground.

"I'm not doing this for you, Dad." Maggie looked up, as if to make sure he heard her. "This is for me."

Pulling out a chair, she sat at the table. Her father’s all too familiar, slightly smudged scrawl opened his mind to her. She stared at the words, not quite reading them yet, as a tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away and held the paper in both her hands. It rattled as it shook, and she forced herself to calm down and read the first words.

Magdalena,

I'm dying. I know that now. As I lay in this hospital bed, I can feel it creeping up on me. The end.

The words blurred as tears swam before her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but more took the place of the ones she’d let fall. One word. That's what it took to start the waterworks. Her father was the only person to call her Magdalena since her mother died when she was young. The name stirred a feeling in Maggie's stomach that she hadn't felt in a long time. Fear. When he would yell her full name, she knew what was coming.

"You can't be scared of him anymore," she said, trying to staunch the flow of tears. "He's dead."

She dried her eyes on her sleeve and looked at the letter again.

I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. Most of them have to do with you. I'd blame the booze, that's the easy thing to do, but in recovery we learn that that's a copout - my own words. It wasn't the alcohol that caused you so much pain. I didn't know how much it was until Jake told me. Me and him, we made a pact. I wouldn't have been able to get sobe
r
without him. He's a good man. I know he caused you pain as well, and for that he is sorry. Please forgive him after I'm gone. He’s not the same man you were married to
.

Maggie stopped long enough to roll her eyes.

I won't ask for your forgiveness because, honestly, I'm not sure you'd give it to me. I've been sick for a long time now, but I didn't have the courage to say any of this to you until recently. I know I should’ve called a long time ago, but I was scared. I was scared that if I told you I was dying, you wouldn't come. And that’s not something I could handle before I die. This isn't fair to you, but I guess I've never done what's fair to you.

I know now that I stole your childhood. You had to grow up long before you should have.

Mary Lugo came by to see me the other day. Jake brought her. I thanked her for taking care of you when I didn’t. You tell that Elijah that I died happy that you had a friend like him and a family like his.

There were a lot of times when I should have been able to see how bad things had gotten, but my mind was clouded. When you blackmailed me into refusing to care for your cousin, that should have been rock bottom.
 

Maggie's hand flew to her mouth and she dropped the letter. Her breathing came out in gasps, and she couldn't move.

That was how Elijah found her minutes later. He opened the door and entered the apartment with a smile on his face. It dropped as soon as his eyes found her. He didn't bother to shut the door as he rushed to her. She still didn't move. He looked from the letter on the table, to her, and then back to the letter before bending down and pulling her to him. She didn't resist as her shoulders shook.

"Hey," he cooed into her hair. "It's going to be okay."

She pulled back and finally looked at him. He was filthy from working on the house all day, but she didn't care. She needed him.

"Jason read the letter, I'm sure of it," she said, her throat constricting as she spoke.

Elijah flinched at her words and she felt it. His face was a mask of cool calmness, but she knew him well enough to know he was covering something up.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's nothing." He wiped the dampness under one of her eyes with the pad of his thumb.

"You're lying. I've always known when you were lying." She shrugged out of his embrace and stood.

He straightened up and turned away from her.

"Elijah?"

Walking over to shut the still-open door, he stayed facing away from her. "I asked him to do it." He rested his forehead on the door.

"What?" Her voice was quiet.

"I was trying to protect you." He finally turned to face her once again, and shrank away from the look in her eyes. "Jake gave the letter to Jason, so Jason came to me. I had to know if there was something in the letter that would hurt you."

"How could you?"

"I know your father, Mags." He stepped forward and reached for her, but she moved away from him.

"Don't touch me." She clenched her fists at her sides, trying not to explode. "You knew Jason had the letter. How long?"

"Right after you wouldn't take it from Jake."

"All this time."

"I wanted you to be ready to read it."

"And you decide when that is? God, Elijah, do you even hear yourself?" She didn't take her eyes from his as his expression went from guilty to defensive to resigned.

"I saw you when I came in. That didn't look like someone who was ready for whatever she read."

"It's not something I'll ever be ready for."

"I couldn't let that man hurt you anymore."

"You don't even know what's in the stupid thing!" She was yelling now, and his shoulders dropped in defeat. "I've only read part of it, and you know what? Your seriously messed-up plan to protect me may have cost me a person I care about. The letter didn't hurt me. No, I know my father is dead. I know he was never really a father. That knowledge protects me. But what protected Jason when he found out the only family he has is the reason he went through so much in foster care? Huh? Do you have a bullshit answer for that one?"

She snatched the letter from the table and shoved it at his chest. "Here, read what you were 'protecting' me from."

She stalked into her bedroom and slammed the door. When she was finally alone, all the anger seeped from her body and she collapsed onto her bed. Without the fire running through her veins, she was left with only a profound sense of betrayal. Elijah had gone too far this time. She’d spent years running from people who tried to control her, and all of those feelings came back in force.

She hadn't even finished her father's letter. At the moment, she didn't care. All she could picture was Jason the day she said goodbye to him. Just a little boy. She didn't want her father to get his hooks into him.

How could he not hate her? She hated herself for it. It all made sense now. His silence over the past week. Michaela's words when she picked up Kimberly. Every piece of the puzzle was falling into place.

Jason didn't know what her life had been like. That was something she’d always hidden from him. They didn't talk much about their childhoods. He didn't know the extent of what she thought she was protecting him from.

She knew how he was feeling in that moment. They were the only family they both had, and they were being torn from each other.

A soft knock sounded on her door, and then it opened. She didn't look at Elijah as he took a seat of her bed. He put a hand on her leg. She pulled her leg up to her chest and away from him. His eyes grew sadder.

The control. The loss of trust. It was too much. Her emotions were on high alert. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. She couldn't stand to be near him or to have him touch her. He was supposed to be her best friend, the one she’d counted on for so much over the years.

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft and quiet, full of regret.

She sniffled and raised her head. "I know you are." She paused and let out a long sigh. "I have to go."

She stood suddenly and snatched the letter from his grasp before running from the room.

“Maggie,” Elijah called behind her.

She looked back at him to see the tears pooling in his beautiful chocolate eyes. It broke her heart to see him cry.

“Let me help you,” he pleaded. “I want to be there for you.”

"Not this time, Elijah.”

He reached out, and she let him take her hands in his.

She looked down at their entwined hands and watched as a tear hit them and slid down the back of his rough hand. Trust is easily broken, and nearly impossible to fix. She’d forgive Elijah. She knew that. But there was something bigger she had to do, and he couldn’t be a part of it this time. She’d also broken someone’s trust, and hurt someone she loved. It was time to face the decision she made all those years ago. She just hoped Jason could forgive her.

Maggie released her grip and slid her hand out of Elijah’s.

“This is something I have to do alone,” she said, turning away from him.

"I love you," Elijah said as she walked out.

"I know," Maggie whispered, shutting the door behind her. She rested her back against the door for a few moments longer, and then sucked in a deep breath.

It was time to keep her family from falling apart.

Seventeen

Michaela was leaving Jason's place when Maggie got there. They practically ran into each other as Maggie rounded the corner next to the bar.

"Oh, Maggie. Hey!" Michaela was chipper, but it was so obviously forced. She was trying to act like there weren't big things in their lives that were crumbling to dust.

She must have read the letter. She knew what Maggie had done.

"Are you okay?" Michaela asked after Maggie didn’t say anything.

Maggie shook her head to keep from crying again. This wasn't about her. It was about Jason. "Where are you off to?" She tried to force a smile, but it just turned into a grimace.

"Josh is leaving today. Apparently the team starts skating together like a month before training camp."

"Oh, well, tell him I said goodbye. It was good to have him here this summer."

"Yeah," Michaela's laugh came out as a bark. "I'm sure Elijah was glad for the free labor." Her eyes said she was joking, but Maggie blanched at the sound of Elijah's name.

She didn't want to think about him. Her heart was breaking into pieces, and it physically hurt.

"You sure you're okay?" Michaela asked again.

"I need to see Jason."

Michaela's fake smile fell, but she nodded in understanding. "You read it?"

"I did."

"It's going to be okay, Mags." She put a hand on Maggie's shoulder. "I just wish I could get dumb-butt up there to see that." Her attempt at lightening the mood failed.

"I don't know what to say to him," Maggie confessed. "I tried to come up with something on the way over here, but there's nothing that can make it any better."

"The truth would be a start." Michaela stared at her for a moment before continuing. "I know neither of you talk about your families much, but I also know there has to be a reason you did what you did all those years ago. It's Jason. He loves you. Just tell him why."

"The truth," Maggie repeated.

"The truth." Michaela gave her a hug and then pulled out her keys, reaching them towards Maggie. "Here, he won't open the door for you. Use my keys."

Maggie took them slowly and nodded before turning towards Jason's door.

The Truth.
About her father and everything that happened to her growing up. She’d never had to tell anyone what she went through. She didn't know if she could find the words. There was an unspoken agreement between Maggie and Jason that they'd leave the past in the past. It was an agreement she was about to break.

She rapped her knuckles against the solid door three times. No answer. Putting her ear to the door, she heard someone moving around inside. An ice machine groaned, and then she heard ice clink into a glass.

"Jason?" she said, knowing he wouldn't answer her. She knocked again. The sounds inside disappeared. Everything went still. "Please, Jason." Still no movement.

Using the keys Michaela gave her, she unlocked the door and pushed it open slowly. Gathering all her will, she stepped across the threshold, and her eyes scanned the apartment. She pulled the door shut behind her, and jumped when a figure appeared in the kitchen.

"Jason," she said, taking a step towards him.

He regarded her with wary eyes and stepped back. "How'd you get in?"

Maggie held up the keys. "Michaela."

"She needs to stop meddling."

"No, you need to talk to me." She took in his appearance with sad eyes. He wore a loose pair of running shorts and a New York Rangers t-shirt. His hair looked like he’d just gotten out of bed, even though it was evening. Blond stubble coated his cheeks, the start of a beard. Jason hated beards. As if feeling her eyes on it, he scratched his chin. There were dark circles under his eyes.

I caused all of this,
Maggie thought, pushing away the tears.

"I read the letter, or part of it anyway." Maggie walked further into the apartment and sat on the couch. She couldn't stand his searing gaze any longer.

"Good for you." There was no anger in his words, but they were laced with pain, and Maggie suddenly felt the breath leave her.

He hesitated before taking a seat across from her. They sat in a silent standoff for what felt like hours, but was really only minutes. Finally, Maggie had had enough.

"The letter was telling the truth," she said.

Jason leaned forward in his chair, putting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"Do you remember when I came to New York after your parents died?" she asked.

He nodded, but didn't speak.

"When I got back to Boston, I found my dad and stepmother talking about taking you in. They were giddy with excitement over the money they'd get for your care." She breathed out slowly.

Jason lifted his head to look at her. His eyes were glassy. He was waiting for her to continue. She gave him a reassuring smile, a smile he didn't return.

"I told them if they took you in, I'd go to Children's Services with proof of child abuse."

She was crying now, and she couldn't stop it. The memories were flowing into her. Memories she had never expected to share with her little cousin who she’d always protected. The truth is a burden. One that she was now putting on his shoulders.

Her body shook as she unfolded her legs and stood from the couch. As she crossed the living room to where he’d positioned himself apart from her, she lifted the hem of her shirt. Her scar had never truly healed like all the bruises had. The skin was fused together to create a raised, rough patch on her side.

Jason stared at it, and then up at her. "Tell me," he said, his voice thick.

When she went back to the couch, he followed and sat next to her as she began. She told him everything and was surprised how relieved she felt. Her secret was out. There was no longer this big, imaginary thing hanging between her and Jason.

When she started convulsing with sobs, he wrapped his arms around her. She laid her head on his chest, his heart beating slowly beneath her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," she cried.

Jason's tears dampened her hair as he rested his head against it.

They were both broken, and yet, both here. They’d made it through.

"Do you hate me?" she asked.

"I could never hate you, Cuz." He stroked her hair. "You've always looked out for me, even when I didn't know it."

"It destroyed me, Jason," she confessed. "When I left you in that hospital."

"I forgive you." His voice was quiet, but it was exactly what she needed to hear.

"Thank you."

They sat, soaking in the quiet comfort each other offered.

"I didn't finish the letter," Maggie finally said.

"I didn't either," Jason chuckled softly.

She sat up slowly and pulled out the letter, staring at it for a long moment.

"I'm here." Jason put his hand over hers. "Whatever it says, it'll be okay. We're family, Mags. You and I. Don't let him have power over you anymore."

Jason was right. Gathering her courage, she nodded and then unfolded the letter once again. She started right where she had let off, reading out loud.

It should’ve been a wake-up call for me when you moved out at sixteen. I know the years that followed were hard. Jake filled me in on his part in your unhappiness. I wasn't strong enough. I wish I had been. Every day I pray I could have a do-over. But that's not how it works. We do things and say things, and then live with the consequences.

I can't remember the last time I told you I loved you. I know it's a little late now, but I do. Your stepmother has left, so here I am, dying alone. No one should die alone. They should be surrounded by family.

I hope you're not alone. I hope my actions haven't caused you any lasting harm. Let yourself love the people in your life. Let yourself trust them. I am a coward. You, my daughter, are not a coward. You've always been the strong one. I'll tell your mother you said hi when I reach her - assuming I'm not rotting in that other place.

That was how he left it. No signature, no official goodbye. A line about Hell. A sound escaped Maggie's throat that was something between a laugh and a sob. To her ears, she sounded like a strangled cat.

Jason didn't say anything as he took the letter from her hands and set it on the coffee table. She didn't realize she was shaking until he grabbed her hands to still them.

"My dad is dead," she whispered, her shoulders sagging.

"He is," Jason affirmed, pulling her against his side.

Her father's words ran through her mind, stopping on one word:
alone
. He was alone in the end. Sure, Jake was around - but a sober buddy isn't family.

Maggie rested her palm against her stomach, knowing she'd never have a family of her own.

"I don't want to be alone." A tear slid across the bridge of her nose. Jason wiped it away before it could fall to the ground.

"You'll never be alone, Mags." He bumped his shoulder against hers. "You're never getting rid of me."

She laughed despite the knot in her stomach. "Wouldn't dream of it," she said.

A sudden urge started with a thought. The letter had opened up a pit within Maggie, and she suddenly felt as if she’d been hollowed out. Her father was wrong about one thing. If she’d known he was dying, she would’ve gone to him.

"I need to go to Boston," she said.

Jason didn't argue; he just pulled out his phone to look at the time. "Let me call Aaron, he can manage the bar for a few days. We can leave tonight."

Maggie watched him walk into the other room, already speaking into his phone, thankful she hadn't even had to ask him to come. He just knew she needed him.