21. Maureen
Chapter twenty-one
Maureen
I left Will on his own after our talk. I needed to be alone with my thoughts. He came out of the bedroom to grab a snack and use the bathroom, but other than that, he gave me space.
In the quiet house, I heard the scratch of his pencil moving against sketch paper throughout the day.
Forgiving him wasn’t a question anymore. Even before he’d explained, I’d made my peace with our history. Now that I’d heard the whole story, I felt even more sure. Until this week, I’d only been able to picture my pain, the result of his actions on my life. But he’d suffered too.
What I didn’t know was how I wanted to move forward.
Did we simply forget about the past? Give in to our attraction? After everything we’d been through, did I want to start going on dates with Will, pretend we were in the getting to know you phase of our relationship?
I didn’t know his favorite color or his middle name. He’d never had the chance to tell me how he liked his eggs cooked or whether he was a good swimmer.
You know me better than anyone.
But I knew some things. Big things. Little things. From our night together, our hours of conversation. How many favorite bands we had in common. That we were both night owls. I knew he’d almost gotten a dragon tattoo on his twenty-first birthday, and that he had a touch aversion to packaging peanuts. That he put a ton of hot sauce on his fries.
Five years ago, we’d been so comfortable, as though we’d started in the middle. Now, he’d given me his secrets. His trust. I’d never forget the way he teared up over how I caressed his scarred fingers.
Immediate intensity between us would be a given. What did I want from Will?
Marley and James returned home from work just as I popped a pan of enchiladas into the oven. Bambi and Oscar sat nearby, ready to catch anything that might fall on the floor.
“How’s Will been?” Marley asked me after peeking into his room to find him napping.
“Much better. I haven’t needed to help him with much. He used the bathroom on his own and has been drawing. Very limited screens, though, and he’ll probably need another few days staying mostly in bed.”
James hummed. “Has he been sleeping all day?”
“No. That’s improved a lot. Pretty sure this is the first nap he’s taken. Unless he cat-napped and I missed it.”
“Fingers crossed, that means good news for his CT scan,” Marley said. “He’ll hopefully be back to himself by then.”
“True. But I still doubt he’ll feel up to driving a ton this weekend.” James gave Oscar and Bambi candy cane dog treats. “And I know he wants to get home. We’ll need to figure something out.”
“I’m sure we will,” I said. “Now, why don’t you guys go amuse yourselves and let me keep working on dinner.” James waggled his brows at Marley, and I made a face at him. “Sheesh, brother-in-law. Get your mind out of the gutter. I meant, like, amuse yourself playing Scrabble or something.”
Half an hour later, James was downstairs in the rec room working on a jigsaw puzzle. Marley brought in the mail. She lovingly opened the many holiday cards before attaching each one to the fridge with a Christmas tree magnet.
“You’re sure Will was okay today?” she asked, placing a picture of Katy and her kids in Santa hats on the freezer.
“Uh-huh.”
“And did you two…talk?”
“That’s a loaded question, but yeah.” She gave me a curious look, so I added, “And it was way overdue.”
“I figured.” She pushed off the fridge to stand next to me near the counter. “You want to tell me what’s going on there? Or are we still acting like Will is just a friend of your future brother-in-law who you barely know?”
I sighed. It would be nice to have someone else’s opinion, and there was no one I trusted more than Marley.
Leaving out some details— ahem, our little scene in the shower —I spent twenty minutes giving her the story, starting with what happened five years ago and ending with the basics of what Will told me earlier today.
“Wow,” Marley said once I’d finished. “I knew there was something, but I had no idea you were going to tell me you met him five years ago. That’s wild.”
Out of curiosity, I asked, “What did you think I would say?”
“I don’t know. Maybe that he made a move on you last Christmas or that you’d run into him in Seattle. But that you’ve known him for that long never occurred to me.” She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You really almost died?”
“It’s why I don’t drink very often.”
“Other than last year…when you ran into Will.”
“Yes, but that was an anomaly, and if we’re being fair, it wasn’t even that bad—like, a minor hangover doesn’t exactly compare to hospitalization.”
“I can’t believe you were in the hospital, and I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know because I didn’t want you to. It was Christmas, and Mom was really sick. You had enough on your plate. Plus, I was embarrassed.”
“I don’t understand what you thought you had to be embarrassed about. I mean, he’s the one who lied about being involved with someone. You did nothing wrong.”
“I appreciate the defense, Marls, but think about it. You know me. I pride myself on being independent. Not to mention highly capable.” I nudged her with my elbow as I pointed at myself. “Major older child syndrome, right here.”
“On an intellectual level, I get it. But on a personal level, it’s tough knowing you hid something so important from me.”
“You know I’ve had boyfriends. It’s not like I’ve been a nun. But Will was an exception. He’s the only person I ever cared about enough to get hurt by. All my usual plays went out the window—including telling you everything.”
Marley paused. “But it’s good that you fell for someone, right? To know it’s possible. Even if it ended badly. It’s not like you were planning on being alone forever?”
“Honestly, I can’t say.” I tugged on the oversized sleeves of my sweater. “Recently, I’ve wondered if watching what happened with Mom messed me up.”
“Mom? What?”
“You and Miranda were too young to remember, but I was six when Dad died, so I have memories of them together. For you two, it’s all theoretical, a story—they had this great love, and Mom lived happily on her memories for the rest of her days. But I remember the other side.”
Marley threw down the dish towel she’d been twisting and turned to face me, her expression solemn. “You never talk about this.”
There was a reason I didn’t speak about that time. The last thing I wanted to do was taint my sister’s memories. But I owed it to her to be honest.
“I remember Mom crying herself to sleep at night. She had to pick up the pieces and move on while still raising us. I was too little to understand it, but looking back, I can see she was afraid. It took her a long time to rejoin the land of the living. I can remember being seven, eight, nine years old, and helping her with dinner, laundry, or putting Miranda to bed at night.
“She was a wonderful mom, but those first years after Dad died were awful. She seemed committed to making sure you two were okay, but with me, it was almost like she knew she couldn’t fully hide it, so she just gave in and let me help her. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining. I think any sane person would have been as hurt and nonfunctional as Mom was. But now, as a thirty-one-year-old, I can see the effects of it on my life. Seeing her staring out the window for hours, barely moving, never laughing, and smiling the way I remembered from when Dad was alive. It stuck with me.”
Marley scrubbed a hand over her face. “I honestly don’t remember Dad at all. There are fragments, flashes of memory, but that’s it.”
“He was an amazing guy. And he loved Mom to pieces. I’m glad I have the memories I do. But in a way, I lost something different than you guys did. And it made me a very protective big sister.” I shoved her playfully on the shoulder.
Marley pursed her lips thoughtfully. “That's why you went to college close and took your time to graduate.”
“I didn’t want to be a burden financially, and I wanted to be within driving distance, in case you needed me. But I was so ready to get out of here. And Mom supported me. She never pressured me to stay or do anything other than live my life.”
“You put that on yourself.”
“Helping take care of you guys was something I could do. Something practical, handling logistics. It helped me deal. Getting emotional—that was Mom’s thing.”
Marley scoffed. “Big sis, just because you’re brilliant at shoving all those pesky feelings down doesn’t mean they’re not there. I know you’re more closed off than me or Miranda, but you’ll never convince me you don’t have a big heart.”
“Thanks.” I smiled. “I’m glad Mom lived long enough to see me get my degree and move to Seattle, to start working at Kolya’s.”
“She was proud.”
“I know. She never stopped telling me.” I exhaled a weighted breath. “On Thanksgiving five years ago, a few days before I met Will, Mom pulled me into her bedroom to talk. I think she knew her decline was escalating. She wanted to make sure I knew how sorry she was that she’d relied on me so much when I was young. I’m glad I got the chance to tell her I didn’t resent her for any of it. As much as it might have made me gun-shy when it comes to relationships, it also made me resilient and confident in myself. I told her she had nothing to be sorry for, and I’ll never forget the look of relief on her face.”
“It’s a good thing you had that conversation when you did. No way would she have been able to have it the next year. She was too far gone.”
I fingered the ring on my index finger, one of the many I’d inherited from my mom. Marley got our mom’s extensive holiday sweater collection, but she and Miranda were happy to let me have the contents of Mom’s jewelry case.
Marley eyed me as I fidgeted. “You really think that’s why you’ve never had a real boyfriend? Because of watching Mom lose Dad?”
“She was never the same after he died, even though she was still young. But she didn’t date. Kept her same job at the factory. Her entire identity was raising us and being a model citizen of Coleman Creek.”
“What’s so wrong about that?”
“Absolutely nothing. I just knew I didn’t want it. I figured to avoid Mom’s pain, I needed to be the opposite of her. Be on my own. Live in a big city. Have a fancy job. Like, if I lived my life differently, I could have a happier outcome.”
Marley slumped back against the counter, her frown deep. “You don’t think Mom was happy?”
“I think she had pockets of happiness. She loved being our mom. But she wasn’t the same person after Dad died. The mother I remembered from before never came back. She died with him.”
My sister flinched, like my words were a physical blow. “God, that’s so sad. I never thought of it that way. Never felt that.”
“Good. I think Mom would be glad to hear you say that. Because she dedicated every day of her life after Dad died to making sure we never did.”
“I miss her so much.”
“Me too.” I slung an arm over Marley’s shoulders and kissed the side of her head.
“I’m pretty sure if she was here, she’d remind you that you’re not her. You can have a relationship and love Coleman Creek and still not be her.”
“I wouldn’t mind being the best parts of her.”
“Do you remember last year when you told me I needed to give James a chance?” Marley side-eyed me.
“Of course.”
“How come you want that for me but not for yourself?”
I’d been thinking about that all day. “I’m not sure that’s the case anymore,” I stammered.
“I won’t tell you to give Will a chance, or that he’s the one, or anything like that. Truthfully, I’m sort of inclined to pinch him for what he did to you back then. But you should give yourself a shot to find love. With Will or someone else. Don’t assume you’re better off alone. That’s dumb.”
Marley dropped an imaginary mic and strode out of the kitchen. She headed downstairs—I assumed to relay our conversation to James.
I pulled the enchiladas from the oven, almost dropping the casserole dish when the thin potholders couldn’t take the heat. Speaking with Marley about our mom and dad was unexpected. It had been so long since I’d thought about any of that.
Will stirred in the third bedroom. I’d talk to him soon but still wasn’t quite ready. I needed some more time alone with my thoughts, and at least two enchiladas first.
James assumed sickbed duty the rest of the night. He and Will played cards in Will’s room after dinner while Marley graded papers and I sat at the dining room table putting the finishing touches on the video I’d made of Katy. I’d included a lot of the more serious material about her divorce and starting over because I knew viewers would connect with it. I just hoped she’d give me the green light to post.
Marley and James went to bed earlier than usual. We were all tired after three days of worrying about Will. After emailing Katy a link to the video, I tried falling asleep as well. But after an hour of tossing and turning, I gave up and decided to watch TV in the living room.
I saw light from underneath Will’s closed door as I walked past. The bluish hue told me he was watching something on his computer since the room didn’t have a TV. He’d been able to start looking at screens again although he still needed to take frequent breaks.
What if he’d fallen asleep with the computer on? That wouldn’t be good for his recovery.
I knocked softly on the door. “Will?”
No answer. Shoot. I didn’t want to wake him if he’d drifted off. He still had a low-grade headache and needed a lot of rest. But leaving the laptop on seemed like a bad idea, too.
I rapped on the door with slightly more force. Again, no reply. Okay, I could just go in quickly and close his screen. No bigs. I turned the knob and cracked the door.
“…I’m gonna give it a shot because I always want to keep an open mind about the latest trends— ” Was that…? Yep. It was me, my voice. Or rather, Francesca’s. “Alright, I’m going to do a light application. I’m pretty sure this won’t work for me, but you never know, right? And besides, it’s fun to play.” A moment passed where only the background music could be heard. I recognized the clip and knew exactly what was happening on screen. I was staring into the camera, trying on the dark shade of burgundy lipstick that was popular a few years ago. “No, um, just no.” The me on Will’s computer screen broke into hysterical laughter. “This looks terrible.” More giggles, and I remembered wiping away the lipstick enthusiastically. “ Alright, maybe this will work on some folks, but I thought I looked like a vampire who just had a snack. But remember—if you love it, wear it. Absolutely. Personally, I’ll stick to my pale pink and nude shades, maybe a berry stain if I’m feeling frisky. What do you think of the dark burgundy lip trend? Tell me in the comments below.”
I listened to myself laughing through the computer speakers. Finally daring to peek my head around, I found Will staring at the screen with a big, goofy grin on his face. At the sound of the door opening, he looked up. Totally nonplussed at being caught, he pointed at the screen and said, “This is one of my favorites.”
Venturing farther into the room, I shut the door behind me. Marley and James might be heavy sleepers, but Oscar and Bambi would come begging for midnight treats if they heard us. I sat on the mattress next to Will. He appeared to have changed into a fresh white tee, the thin cotton doing little to hide the definition of his torso and the impression of taut nipples beneath the material. Absently, I wondered if he wore sweats or just boxers. I couldn’t tell with the bedspread rucked up to his waist.
He scooted against the wall to give me extra room. I leaned back on one of his gold pillows, sitting on top of the blanket.
“You’ve really watched all my videos?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
He snapped the laptop closed and reached across me to place it on the nightstand. The sound echoed, reminding me how alone we were. “I already told you. At first, it was curiosity, but then it was just good to…see you like that. Laughing.” He shifted, sitting up so we rested next to one another, legs flush. “You avoided me today. After our talk.”
With the computer closed, only silvery moonlight lit the room. I relaxed against Will’s shoulder.
A flash of memory assailed me. I’d felt this way with him before. A sense of perfect gravity, the night protecting us. Like we were the only two people in the world.
It hadn’t been true then. It wasn’t true now.
“I needed time to think.” I paused before sighing. “Being around you and all that floppy dark hair and pretty eyes is too distracting.”
He laughed softly, hesitating momentarily before throwing his right arm around my shoulders. “This okay?”
“Yeah.” I breathed into his neck.
“I’m just reveling in the fact that you’re not actively angry with me anymore,” he said. “Having you near me like this, it’s…” His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“It’s good.” I ran my fingers along his scars, and he emitted a low groan.
“I love that it doesn’t bother you.” He sucked in his bottom lip, letting me trace the raised lines on his palm for a few loaded seconds before asking, “Did it help you? Having time to think?”
“Yeah. I also talked to my sister and gave her the basic rundown of what’s up with us.”
“All of it?”
“Just the bullet points, but yes.”
“Does she hate me now?” He attempted a light tone, but there was genuine fear behind it.
“I mean, she reserves the right to stab you if you ever hurt me like that again, but I think she’s taking her cues from me. And she can see I’ve moved on from it.”
He considered my words as our hands continued to caress. “That’s a relief. I’d like to stay on Marley’s good side. And not just because of James.”
I nodded. “She’s a solid one to have in your corner, that’s for sure. Hashing it out with her helped, but that doesn’t mean I have it all figured out yet.”
“You’re here now. I’ll take the W.”
I exhaled into the darkened room. “Honestly, Will, in a way, it would have been easier if you had told me you’d had temporary amnesia, or that there’d been an accident that kept you from texting me after our night together. Or that maybe some nefarious character blackmailed you into lying to me. Something other than normal human fallibility.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I thought of how hurt I’d been in that hotel lobby. “Tell me—in those weeks after we met at Musicbox and before you ran into me again, were you trying to figure out a way to get out of your engagement, or were you trying to make yourself come around to the idea of marrying Rosalyn?”
His lips flattened. “It’s hard to say. But when it comes down to it, I truly believe I would have ended the engagement eventually. One thing I know for sure is that, from the moment I saw you in the lobby, it became a hundred percent certain I’d never marry Roz.”
“That’s what I’m still processing. I believe you. We both got hurt by your actions. I’ve known for a while you’re not some slimy fuckboy who set out intending to harm me.”
After talking with Marley, I realized most of the pain I carried from five years ago had to do with feeling embarrassed over the idea I’d been played, that I’d allowed myself to give in to my emotions and promptly gotten burned. But the truth was, I hadn’t been the weak one. That had been Will. He’d been weak, not standing up for himself and what he wanted. Now that I saw the truth, I could let go of the unfounded shame.
It finally felt as though the past was in the past, thoroughly examined and given a proper burial.
In the here and now, I was left with my connection to Will, my desire for him. While knowing he felt the same.
What was stopping us from jumping into something?
I touched the side of my forehead to his. “I need you to keep being direct and honest, Will.”
“Of course.”
He shivered as my mouth whispered against his ear. “What exactly do you want from me?”
A low sound left his throat.
“That’s like a thousand questions in one,” he began. “But I think you know.” He placed his warm palm on my thigh. “I want you. I think—no, I know—something is there. Something amazing.”
Even though I’d known that was what he would say, the force of his words still hit me hard. My pulse drummed rapidly as he turned to gaze at me in the moonlight. The gold flecks in his gray eyes shimmered as his pupils blew wide. His lips were an inch away. I stared, mesmerized, as the tip of his tongue darted out to wet them. It would be so easy to lean forward and—
The buzzing of Will’s phone on the nightstand saved me from…whatever was about to happen. I pulled my head back.
Wait. It was past midnight. Who was texting him in the middle of the night?
He removed his arm from my shoulders, flipped his phone over, and frowned.
“Everything okay?”
Will exhaled loudly. “Yeah. It’s just Rosalyn. She needs my help with something.”
I tensed and pushed his hand off my leg. Rosalyn, as in former fiancée Rosalyn? They still texted? In all our talking today, Will had left that little nugget of information out.
He clued in to my reaction. “Oh shit! I promise I wasn’t keeping it from you or anything. She still works at Wallingford Capital. She wants me to help with one of my old accounts. Her text is just a link to a shared drive with some files. And she’s a workaholic. I doubt she even realizes she’s texting so late.”
I felt that knowledge in the pit of my stomach. Rosalyn worked for his family’s company. I wondered how often they spoke. How often they saw one another. “Does she know where you are?” I asked.
“No. My parents knew I was coming to James’s party over the weekend, but no one knows I’m still here. Like I said, I don’t want them to find out about this new concussion.”
My brain recalled the annoyed look on Rosalyn’s face five years ago when she’d stuck out her manicured hand and introduced herself to me. It brought another question to mind.
“That day, what did you tell her—your fiancée—about me?”
Will had the good grace to look abashed. “After you left the hotel lobby, she asked me who you were, and I told her you were an acquaintance I’d known in college.”
“Did you ever tell her the truth, later on?”
“No. I thought about it. But when I finally broke it off, the first question she asked was if there was someone else. I didn’t want to tell her about our night because my breaking up with her wasn’t about that. But she wouldn’t have seen it that way.”
“That makes sense,” I concluded carefully.
But understanding his decision-making helped me gain clarity about my earlier reluctance.
It was obvious the aftereffects of Will’s accident were ongoing, even if they’d improved over the past few years. Him feeling uncomfortable telling his parents about this new concussion—the result of a legitimate accident and not carelessness—proved that. Not to mention Rosalyn still had a significant foothold in his world, working for Wallingford. And even though he said he hadn’t kept that information from me intentionally, it felt like something he should have mentioned earlier.
Will and I had already proven we had the power to hurt one another deeply. And so many of the same pain-causers from five years ago were still part of his life.
This. This was what made me hesitate to jump into something with him.
He wanted to explore something between us. But neither of us could afford to behave recklessly.
Yet I couldn’t imagine denying ourselves forever. I felt the heat of him pressed next to my side on the bed, responding to every little touch between us. Each breath an invitation. It would be so easy to let that instinct carry me, to reach over and straddle him, to move my hips back and forth over him until he’d been coaxed to full hardness, to tug down his sweatpants and wrap my hand around his cock. I squeezed my thighs together, wanting it.
Luckily, his concussion recovery protocol kept the urge at bay. But that wouldn’t always be the case. My body wanted to taste, to cash the check Will wrote five years ago.
I needed to get ahold of myself. To think rationally. I needed to be somewhere other than cuddled in bed next to him.
“It’s late, and I’m finally feeling sleepy.” I pulled myself up hastily and stood on the floor, leaning down to kiss Will on the head. “Good night.”
A look of confusion passed over his features, but he didn’t try to stop me. Just as I was closing the door, he called out, “Maureen?”
“Hmm?”
“I meant what I said. We could have something amazing.”
I looked at the hopeful raise of his eyebrows, his face glowing in the moonlight reflecting off his tee. But I couldn’t give him the words he wanted.
Dipping my chin in a quick nod, I shut the door behind me.
Maybe we could have something amazing.
Or, maybe, my heart would break all over again—and this time, I wouldn’t be coming back from it.