38. The Things We Do for Love
CHAPTER 38
The Things We Do for Love
JOEL
E verything hurts.
My face, my chest, my arms and legs. Where am I? The last thing I remember . . . wasn’t I at home? No, I was driving. I try to move but there’s something warm tucked into me. When I open my eyes sage green walls stare back at me and some kind of beeping sound bounces around in my brain.
Fuck. Am I in the hospital? How did I?—
The car.
I stopped, but that truck went right through a red light and . . . why was I driving? I hear a gentle sigh and look down, my heart rocketing into my throat at Dusty’s curled-up form.
It’s all it takes to remember. The way her body responded to mine in my bed. How Key returned home and I introduced her as my girlfriend. How it all went completely sideways because it turns out they know each other. Not only that, they were in love. Engaged. About to have a baby. How I was just the stand-in. A temporary fix for her one true love. I roll my head to look away and blow out a breath through cracked lips.
Why is she here? Why is she clinging to me as though I’m the most precious thing to her?
And Key. I know he’s here. I can feel his anxious presence pacing the halls. For a moment, it feels as though he’s standing just outside the door. I wish he would come in. There’s so much I didn’t know—didn’t understand.
Dusty snores quietly as she nuzzles her chin into me. I adjust the blanket over her and kiss her forehead. She sighs contentedly then continues her rhythmic breathing. There’s a scuffle at the door and I glance up to catch Key slipping out of the room.
“Key,” I whisper.
Nothing.
“Key?” I ask again.
Finally he steps into view, his hair a mess over his forehead and his face a picture of worry. “Oh, hey, you’re awake,” he whispers as he enters the room.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I know he’s been lurking around out there. “Yeah.”
“I . . . I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says sheepishly, glancing at Dusty.
“She’s asleep,” I say.
“Not for lack of trying,” he says, taking a step forward. “She hasn’t left your side for over twenty-four hours.”
My brow creases. Have I really been out that long? Looking back at Key, his eyes are glassy and his lip trembles. “Hey, man, you okay?”
“I thought—I thought you were gone,” he whispers. “I thought you were going to leave us and I’d forever know it was my fault.”
“Key, don’t?—”
“I just need to say,” he cuts in, “that I’m sorry. For everything.”
I try to offer a smile. “It’s already forgiven.”
His lips pull at the side and he nods. “Right.” We’re quiet for a long moment, then he takes a deep breath. “She has the songs.”
“What?”
“She kept them,” he admits. “After all this time. She kept my songs.”
My heart sinks. “Oh.”
“It’s great, right?” he asks. “She can testify on our behalf. Logan’s case will be thrown out and everything will go back to normal.”
“Normal,” I whisper. “Right.”
How can it go back to normal? I glance down at Dusty and frown. She kept his songs? Someone she never thought she’d see again and who— wait, what the fuck is this. I lift her left hand into the light and voice the question to my best friend.
Key’s face pales. “It’s—well . . . it’s a ring.”
My stomach ties itself into knots. “You mean it’s your ring.”
He treads into the room on uncertain feet, stopping only when he’s at the side of my hospital bed. “We had to. They wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t immediate family back to see you. It was my idea,” he admits, and I’m pleased to see he looks ashamed. “I told her to wear it. To say she was your wife so they’d let her be by your side.” He gestures around the room. “It clearly worked.”
I try to shake it away. The unpleasant feeling of seeing Key’s ring on her finger. My thumb brushes against it, feeling the individual grooves of the string wound around and around.
“You don’t have to worry, Joel,” he finally says. “You won.”
I clear my throat. “Won?”
“You won her,” he admits with a shrug. “She loves you. She told me herself. She hasn’t left your side since we got here. So, you don’t have to worry. She made her choice—and it’s you.”
I chew on my split bottom lip. “Key . . . it was never supposed to be a competition. I didn’t even know?—”
“I know,” he says. “I had so much time with her. Time that . . . while it was the happiest I’ve ever been, it was also the most difficult. But now she can have her perfect ending.”
A tear slips from the corner of his eye.
“She deserves that.”
He reaches forward to brush a stray curl away from her face, tucking it ever so gently behind her ear. Her breathing slows, a subtle sigh reverberating somewhere down deep. Key looks up at me and smiles, then turns to head for the door.
The knots tighten in my stomach. I don’t want him to leave. I only ever thought about how Key and my relationship might change with me being in a relationship. But being with the girl he’s still clearly in love with? And her with him? That scenario never crossed my mind, and now that it’s playing out, there’s a sudden peaceful clarity that takes over.
Why do I have to choose? The two most important people in my life are here. Will I just let one of them walk away? Besides, I know something Key doesn’t seem to be able to see.
“Key, wait.”
He stops and brushes at his cheeks before angling his body my way. “Yeah?”
“She loves you too.”
His lips part, and for a moment his eyes flick between Dusty and me. “No. No . . . she just—I realize what it looked like when we hugged at the house, but that’s because of?—”
“She loves you, idiot,” I say around a laugh. “She always has and, well, she probably always will.”
“She said that?”
“She doesn’t need to. I can see it. It’s in the way she looks at you. The way she touched you. Key, she kept your songs. How much more proof do you need?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he says, pressing his hand to his face. “She may still have feelings for me, but she made her choice.”
I take a deep breath. “What if she didn’t know there was another option?”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
I almost roll my eyes at how obtuse he’s being but restrain myself. “What I mean is, we hardly live a normal lifestyle.”
“What—”
“We could both have her. Share her. Love her, together.”
Something eases in my chest when comprehension dawns in his hazel eyes. He takes a few tentative steps toward us.
“You would—you’d be okay with that?”
I nod. “Yeah, I would.”
He sniffs, tension locking up his shoulders. “She might not want that,” he whispers.
“No, she might not. But maybe she feels the same way I do.”
He tilts his head. “And how’s that?”
I smile. “Like having to choose between either of you might kill me.”