Chapter 37 Madison
Madison
Well… my flabbers are gasted.
After I apologize profusely to Eleanor for “stealing”—her word, not mine—her car, I hole myself up in one of the guest bedrooms. There’s only one that has a full setup with a bed, and I vaguely remember Wesley telling me Dimitri slept on the same floor as him before Nicole.
I grab some blankets from the linen closet, lay on the bare mattress in the unfamiliar, empty room, and wrap myself up in a burrito of emotion.
I can barely comprehend the full brunt of the guilt he’s been dealing with—the sour, poisonous emotions that he’s kept carefully hidden away.
I can understand why he feels like it’s his fault—the General never would have existed without his work.
But he didn’t know what would happen. I’m sure he feels like he should have figured it out, but that’s hindsight.
All his overbearing tendencies make sense now—it makes sense why he’d feel like it was his fault that I was hurt. It makes sense that he’d react to potential threats by trying to shield me from them.
Frankly, I don’t even care about the software and all that. I’m stuck on the lies. I’m stuck on the fact that instead of taking my trust and giving me his, he shut me out. Secrets are part of who he is—it’s his instinct to close off instead of sharing.
Can I be with someone who’s so shaped by deceit?
If he’d done things differently, we might never have met. So now I’m feeling guilty because despite all the death and loss, I can’t bring myself to regret what happened or wish things had turned out differently.
Ugh, now I feel like a bad person.
I’m on a weird sleep schedule anyway, so when my brain finally shuts off and I fall asleep at the crisp hour of 7 PM, I’m not really surprised to wake up and find that it’s dark out.
My stomach growls, so I unwind, wipe away the crusted tears, and head downstairs. Poking my head into the hall, I see Wesley’s office door is closed. Good. I’m not sure I can face him quite yet.
I creep into the kitchen, almost afraid to make noise. I think… it’s empty. For the first time since I got here.
Fuck yeah. This means I get to search for Wesley’s junk food stash! Man, I could really go for some empty calories right now.
I’m about halfway through raiding the drawers in the pantry when I hear the French doors open. I freeze, hoping that whoever it is will leave me in peace, but I hear the fridge open and then the screech of chair legs against tile and I sigh, knowing someone is settling in for a midnight snack.
I suck another sigh back in when I see it’s Nicole.
She sees me too, and my heart flops over at the odd expression on her face. I remember the last thing she heard me say, and the shuttered look of hurt. She probably doesn’t want to see or speak to me right now.
“Um, I was just leaving—”
“Wait,” she says softly. “Please. Don’t go.”
Whoa. Please? Bitch, I’m rooted in this spot. They’d need a forklift to move me.
“I was hoping to talk to you, just the two of us.”
Her tone doesn’t give me pause for once—it’s entreating and gentle. Hope swells. I push away the self-doubt that tries to cut it down and head over to the island to take the seat next to her. “Because you do want to know how to do that move where you land on Dimitri’s face?”
She smiles, and it’s much more genuine and much less guarded than I can ever remember. “No. Well… maybe eventually. Not for a while, though. I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”
Whoa. My flabbers are gasted.
I was all ready to swallow my pride. I thought at most, she would tell me she was open to hearing my apology—and even that would have been cool. I thought I was going to have to explain myself and apologize for what I said… Never in a million years did I think those words would be coming from her!
“I’m sorry too, Nicole. I didn’t mean what I said—”
“I know,” she nods, then grimaces. “I heard enough of your fight to know what it was really about. It’s my fault you’ve been walking on eggshells, and probably why you were sensitive about it in the first place.
I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting. I’ve been cold to you, and you really didn’t deserve it. ”
“It’s okay,” I say easily. “You’re protective of this little family you guys have here, and I was an outsider.”
She nods, looking down at her hands. “That, and I was… jealous, I think.”
“Jealous?” I repeat, stunned out of my smart comments.
She looks uncomfortable. “Yeah. It’s horrible of me—again, so sorry—but I knew you’d been attacked and you… you saved yourself. It made me feel weak and so pathetic, especially because I’ve been having these panic attacks. And you’re… not weak or pathetic. At all. You’re just as smart as Wesley—”
“Smarter, actually,” I interject with a wink, making her smile.
“—and you can help them. You… picked at a scab you didn’t know was there.
Frankly, I’m just realizing it’s there.” She licks her lips, grappling with her final thought.
“The way Dimitri and I met was tumultuous. Passionate, but difficult. We had a hard time adjusting to each other, and part of it was because I never felt like I belonged in this world. Still don’t, really. ”
“Ah,” I say as the final puzzle piece clicks into place. No wonder she was so sensitive when I called out her profession and argued for my seat at the boy’s table. “And I waltzed in—the crazy hacker who can put a guy twice my size on his ass.”
“Yeah,” she agrees with a little self-deprecating smile. “And it didn’t help that you’re so cute and charismatic, frankly. But that’s my thing. That’s not about you and I really shouldn’t have made it your problem. I’m sorry about that, too.”
I sit back, eyeing her. Her body language is stiff, and her head is hung, like she’s truly contrite. I’m betting she’s harder on herself than anyone else would ever be. She seems like the type.
“Let me guess…” I say slowly, and Nicole presses her lips together in a grimace, expecting some kind of scathing indictment of her character that she thinks she deserves. I grin, since she’s confirming my theory. “September 12th.”
Her head comes up, and she frowns. “What?”
“Your birthday.”
There’s a second of silent confusion, then her lips tip up. “It’s the 16th, actually.”
I snap, making her jump a little at the sudden noise. I level my pointer finger at her. “I fucking knew you were a Virgo.”
At that, she laughs. “Why? Cause all Virgos are total bitches?”
“Yup!” I agree, laughing too. When we settle, and she seems more relaxed, I toss my hair over my shoulder and lean back in the chair.
“Of course you’re an earth sign. You hate having emotions at all, especially the unpleasant ones, because it’s harder to rationalize them and create distance.
Makes you lash out sometimes. Don’t sweat it; my abuela is a Capricorn. I’m used to it.”
She sits back and stares at me for a few seconds, her lips falling into a little O. “Whoa,” she says softly. “Do you and Eleanor read the same books or something?”
“Depends. Does she read the ones about dudes with giant dongs and bat wings?”
Nicole smiles. “I think so.”
“Cool.” Not exactly sure what fictional pickles have to do with the science of astrology, but I’ll take any opportunity to connect with one of my new housemates.
“But seriously, don’t sweat it. Honestly, all I heard was that you think I’m cute.
Because you are the most gorgeous, sexually intimidating person I’ve ever met, babe.
I’m super duper in love with Wesley, but 10/10 would let you ruin me and call you Mommy any day of the week. ”
Her cheeks flush a deep red color that makes her look even prettier, then her eyes widen. “You love him?” she asks, totally sidetracked from her own embarrassment at my compliment.
I… oops. Fuck.
Well, yeah, I love him. His confession earlier doesn’t really change how I feel. I think that’s what’s so confusing about it all, if I’m honest. I want to choose him. I want to let myself love him. Desperately. I’m just scared.
But I want to. And that’s what matters, right?
I grin, feeling impossibly freed by the truth. I love Wesley. I fucking love him!
Glancing back at Nicole, I see her expectant expression, and table my enthusiasm.
Oops. I probably should have told him first. “Um… I mean, yeah. Maybe don’t say anything to him?”
She nods, instantly serious, and I know that she’d take any secret I told her to the grave. Another thing I love about earth signs. They’re so stinkin’ loyal.
“Well, I’m glad. Wesley deserves happiness, and you guys are literally perfect for each other. And I’m sorry again about being so damn territorial. My emotions have been all over the place.”
“Why, are you pregnant?” I joke.
When her eyes widen instead of laughing along, the blood drains from my face. “Oh.. Uh…” I panic. Fuck! Not again!
When the hell will I learn? It’s supposed to be: think, then speak.
She licks her lips and looks around, like she’s expecting someone else to pop out from behind a doorway. “Maybe don’t say anything?” she repeats my words back to me in a hushed tone.
“I would never,” I assure her, feeling like we ought to seal the bond with a secret handshake or pinky promise or blood oath. Wait, that’s probably not good for pregnant people… “It explains even more why you reacted that way, though.”
She nods. “Yeah. This… bean,” she euphemizes, eyes dropping to the curve of her stomach under her flowy pajama shirt, “makes it hard to do anything other than worry about the future.”
“Okay, first of all, bean? That’s adorable. And second… You’re worried?” I ask.
“Yeah. I’ll… never fit into Dimitri’s life like you fit into Wesley’s.”
I study her. “Yeah, but you don’t want to fit into this life. And that’s what matters.”