Terms + Conditions (Strangers #3)

Chapter Forty-Two

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

NOW

BEAR IS GOING BALLISTIC from a crate somewhere deeper in the house. Elizabeth disappears to the left, and I slip my shoes off, leaving them outside on the porch before stepping over the threshold. I’m still soaked from the storm outside. I close the front door quietly and take two steps inside the foyer, the sound of paws against hardwood fills the air. Bear rounds the corner and barrels straight down the main hall toward me, zeroed in. The softest hum reverberates in his chest, ready to sound the alarm, until he catches my scent and immediately begins to lick my hand, nudging it with his large head.

“Hiya, bud,” I exhale, glad that he still likes me. I would not want to be on the other side of that dog.

I rub behind his ears, scratching his head and offering him small words of praise. When I look up, Elizabeth leans against the wall, watching for a brief moment until our eyes meet. She takes a deep breath and disappears down the hallway, swinging left again.

“Am I supposed to follow her?” I ask the dog, but his only response is a happy pant before trotting off behind her.

The main hallway spills into a living room centered around a fireplace; a TV hangs from the wall above the fire, playing The Family Stone , one of her favorite Christmas movies full of drama, romance, and Christmas spirit, right behind a movie of quite the opposite: Miracle on 34 th Street . Accordion-style French doors line the back wall that opens up to the screened porch. To the far left end of the living space is an eat-in dining area featuring a large built-in banquette with a huge round table underneath a modern-looking, rounded crystal chandelier. Turning the corner, I find her in the kitchen, washing her hands in the farmhouse sink, but what catches my eye is the color of the island cabinets. It’s the same color as the Savannah townhouse kitchen.

“Go sit,” she orders, motioning toward the doorway on her left. Through the threshold, there’s a butler’s pantry fitted with a wet bar and a stainless steel double-door fridge. Who needs that much fridge space? I don’t have long to ponder the question before she ushers me forward into the dining room to sit in one of the chairs and opens up a first-aid kit.

Elizabeth works quietly, avoiding any eye contact, as she uses a wet washcloth to clean my injuries. I’m mostly battered and bruised; the only real damage is a busted lip and a cut on my brow, but she takes her time. Using the cloth to wipe away any blood, she makes sure the cuts are clean before she applies a butterfly bandage. Bear watches from his bed in the corner, quiet and content.

When she’s satisfied, Elizabeth closes up the kit and walks back through the kitchen disappearing around the corner. She returns moments later and wraps some ice in a towel. Taking the icepack, I offer her a grateful smile, but she ignores it, returning to the kitchen. Bear watches her walk away before glancing back at me, then at her. After a moment, I swear the dog rolls his eyes before settling back into his bed and going to sleep. Can dogs even roll their eyes?

Through the doorway, I watch her busy herself in the kitchen, cleaning up a nonexistent mess. I know I’m going to have to make the first move. Otherwise, we’ll be doing the most awkward two-step all night. I lean against the doorway, holding the ice pack to my brow. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” she says. But I don’t say anything. We’ve had this conversation before and if I just give her a minute, she’ll crack. She always does.

I watch her hand wipe invisible crumbs into her other awaiting one at the edge of the wood block island counter before dusting them into the sink. She tidies up the four miniature potted plants on the windowsill behind the sink. And then she runs her hand under a stream of warm water before rinsing out the bowl of the sink. When she’s satisfied, she turns off the water and reaches for the towel to dry her hands, and just like clockwork…

“I told him to leave.”

“At midnight?” I ask. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t ya think?”

“Yesterday,” she says. “I told him to leave yesterday , not long after you did, actually. And when I refused to answer the phone and then blocked him, he showed up at my door. And when I still told him to leave…Well, you heard him.”

“Oh.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Elizabeth finally turns to look at me. “ Oh? ”

What does she want me to say? I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that I just got into a knock-down drag-out with her boyfriend…ex-boyfriend, sorry.

Elizabeth scoffs. “Unbelievable.”

“What do you want me to say, Elizabeth?”

“I want you to acknowledge the fact that this is your fault!”

“My fault?”

“Yes!” She slams the kitchen towel on the counter. “Your fault.”

I am still not following. How in the hell is what just happened with Ryan my fault?

“Josh, I can’t move on when every time you’re around, you act like everything is okay. Like you’re okay. Like this isn’t hurting you as much as it’s fucking killing me.”

Her words catch me off guard. What does she mean, I act like I’m okay? I am far from fucking okay. Most days, I can’t keep my head above water. Ever since the rest of the family found out the truth, I can feel them slowly slipping away from me because, at the end of the day, she’s going to be the one they choose. Not me.

Carefully, I meet her by the island, but she moves away when I get too close.

“I am not okay, Elizabeth,” I whisper, but she doesn’t say anything. “I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this. I want you. I don’t want to wake up another day without you next to me. I don’t want to come home, and you’re not there. The house is empty, it’s cold, it’s not home without you…I don’t want to know that you’re with some asshole who doesn’t love you like I do. Because I fucking love you. I do. I love you, I’m in love with you, and I always have been.”

“Juliet—”

“Isn’t you.” I shut down her fears before she can voice them. “Yes, I thought I loved her once, and maybe I did, but she’s not you.”

“Then why did you go to Wichita when I asked you not to?” Her voice raises, and it ignites a spark in me.

“Because I was scared.”

I start to match her volume but stop myself. I know better, I can’t fight fire with fire, we’ll only get burned.

Taking a deep breath, I say, “I didn’t know what you wanted. I didn’t know what was going to happen. Time was ticking by faster than a fucking freight train, we were in a bad spot, and I thought…I don’t know what I thought. I just knew we were a time bomb waiting to explode. So, I did something about it. I guess I thought I was just preparing for what was coming sooner rather than later.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“Say you love me, Josh!” Her hand comes down on the marbled countertop at the far end of the kitchen. “Say you want to be with me. Say anything! Anything would have been better than the silence of the last year.”

“We were barely speaking to each other, Liz. The most conversation we had outside of family functions was the day you opened that damn letter.”

“You’re the one who pushed me away, Josh. You were so worried about work and Max and getting ahead…You let us slip to the wayside again. And when I brought it up, you acted like I was being unreasonable.”

“You wanted me to drop everything and go on a vacation, Elizabeth. Or run off to New York because Nick and Nina were there. Or California to see Lola. Or to—”

“Because I thought it would make things better! Give us a chance to reconnect.”

“But you didn’t even ask me.” I scoff. “You just assumed I could drop everything and go, but I can’t do that, Elizabeth. I have a job, one that doesn’t allow me to just run around the country.”

We’d had this fight many times over the years. Every time I was overly busy at work, she would get mad. She didn’t like it when I had to stay late or work overtime or miss certain things because duty called. I was married to her, not my job, she would say.

She didn’t understand it—the constant need to prove myself. The constant tug-of-war I have felt inside, trying to be who she wanted me to be but also who I felt that I needed to be. I had to prove I was more than just some opportunist. I didn’t want to sit back and reap the rewards of a life I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for one wrong decision back in college. I wasn’t worthy of any of this, but I had been doing my damnedest to try and be.

“We were both wrong, okay?” I sigh. “That doesn’t change the fact that I fucked up. I assumed you were going to walk away because that’s what you kept saying…You moved into the guest room for fucksake!”

“And you went to meet up with your ‘one true love.’”

I never called her that, but even if I had, it wasn’t the truth.

“I’ve already told you, Elizabeth. Juliet never showed up that day,” I say, reaching out for her hand.

“Doesn’t matter,” Elizabeth hisses, ripping her hand from mine. “You still went. You went and you lied about it. That’s not love, Josh.”

“You’re right,” I admit.

She looks taken aback. Guess that makes two times now that I’ve told her she was right.

“But all I can do is ask for your forgiveness. I can’t take it back, but if you give me the chance, I will do everything I can to make it up to you.”

Elizabeth stares at her shoes, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she leans back against the counter. She closes her eyes and looks up at the ceiling, her voice meek when she says, “You weren’t even here on the anniversary.”

No, not our anniversary, but the anniversary of her parents’ death.

“You never came.” She scoffs sadly.

“Yes, I did.” I waste no time taking her hands in mine and stepping into her line of vision. “I was here. I drove down that afternoon after going back and forth about whether or not to come in the first place. I didn’t think you’d want to see me, but I came anyway. And I guess you weren’t home because you didn’t answer the door. So, I sat out right out there on your porch for hours…I wanted to be here when you got home. I wanted to be here for you because I know that it’s still the hardest day of every year for you.” I cup the side of her face in my hands and wipe a stray tear that falls from her brown eyes. “So, I waited, but you never came home. And when I thought about leaving, I waited some more. I don’t even know what time it was, but it was late when I left.”

Her eyes well with more tears, and she tries to avoid my stare, but I won’t let her. I want to look her in the eye when I tell her exactly how I feel.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I’m so sorry for everything. For lying, for not telling you how I felt—how I feel—for not sticking around…I was trying to protect myself, and in doing so, I’ve hurt you…the one thing I never wanted to do. I thought—” A heavy sigh. “I thought this was what you wanted, to finally be done with this . To be done with me. We were barely speaking, I never saw you, we were living two different lives—”

“Whose fault was that?”

“It wasn’t just me, Elizabeth.”

What’s that old saying? It takes two to tango. Yeah, that’s the one. This relationship was never going to work if only one of us was fighting for it.

“I didn’t feel like a priority to you,” she whispers.

“And I was wrong for that. Work got the best of me, and everything else got the leftovers. You got the leftovers.” I grip her chin between my fingers and stare into her eyes. “I am so sorry. I love you, Sugar. I’m in love with you. I have been since that day you called and begged me to help you decorate the house when you should’ve been studying. Hell, I think I loved you before that, I just didn’t know it…and every day I’ve spent apart from you has been one too many. I don’t want to be away from you for one more minute. I will quit my job and move to Jupiter if that’s what it takes. I don’t care as long as I’m with you. Because as long as I’m alive…I am yours and you are mine. I love you, Elizabeth Davis.”

Tears flood her eyes and I wait for her to say something—anything—but she doesn’t. She gnaws on the inside of her cheek, and the longer we stand here, the more time begins to still and anxiety fills my heart.

“Now would be a good time to say it back,” I whisper.

Tears escape the corners of her eyes, but she presses up on her tiptoes and kisses me. “I love you too, Joshua Davis.”