Chapter 15
fifteen
AMANTHA
Val’s quiet office smelled of his familiar, masculine scent. Everything was still annoyingly clean and organized. Only the clicking on Val’s keyboard and the persistent squeak of the chair I was twisting side to side in disrupted the silence.
“Will you please stop doing that?”
“Sor–ry.” My voice sounded anything but.
Val had insisted on searching for the accession form himself, which left me with not a lot to do.
I rose and wandered the office. The sight of the stainless steel wastebasket brought back the day we met, though my resume was long gone by now. I decided to mess with him.
“You know, I’ll never forget the day we met…” I trailed off.
The clicking of Val’s keyboard quieted a bit.
“But, don’t worry. I’ll always keep trying to.”
The clicking resumed.
The bookshelves lining the wall behind Val were almost barren. Only three picture frames sat atop the cherry wood. I approached the first frame. It still held the prefabricated stock photo it had been sold with.
For crying out loud, Val.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Val didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body.
I picked up another frame and said, “Russo, I didn’t know you had kids.” A black-and-white Val crouched with his arms wrapped around two younger boys. The children were wearing football jerseys. Val looked younger in the photo. Less mean.
Definitely cuter when he’s not talking.
“I don’t,” Val said curtly, turning around to glance at the frame in my hand. “Those are my nephews.” He went back to his computer.
Placing the frame down, I continued exploring.
I trailed my fingers along the shelf until I came to the last frame.
The picture inside was of a gorgeous woman, presumably in her mid-twenties.
She was stunning. Like, old-Hollywood-movie-type stunning.
Wild almost white blonde hair fell to her shoulders in voluminous curls.
Her vibrant blue eyes twinkled at the photographer.
The picture seemed to crackle with energy.
“And who’s this?” I asked the back of his head.
Val’s body went rigid like I’d branded him with a hot poker.
A confused stone dropped into my stomach as regret flooded my cheeks.
Whoever this woman was, I wasn’t supposed to ask about her.
Silence stretched into minutes. I chewed my lip, not knowing how to ease the tension that I’d somehow brought on.
Wordlessly, I turned and set the frame back on the shelf.
“My late wife.”
It took a second for me to register Val’s hoarse whisper, but then my jaw went slack.
Val was a widower?
The pain in Val’s whispered response was palpable. It infiltrated me, resounding with my own wounds. My mind began to flood with thoughts of Dad. His flannel, his soft, quiet nature. Losing him had been one of the most difficult things I ever experienced.
But losing a spouse? An unexpected, wrenching wave of sympathy for Val threatened to drown me.
My thoughts suddenly shot off in a different direction before horror rose in my throat, recalling the words I had used on the plane less than a month ago.
“Any woman in her right mind would die to get away from you.”
The slapped look on Val’s face made complete sense now. Disgust joined the twist in my stomach at my own callousness. Val wasn’t a ray of sunshine by any means, but no one deserved a low blow like that. I wondered what Val’s perspective of me could have been all this time.
Had I been just as much a jerk to him as he was to me? How much additional pain had I caused him? I had justified each retort, each glare, each insult because I had thought he was an awful person. Wasn’t he?
Or was I?
I’d spurned him on the museum steps while he’d been working to save Rick’s job.
I had yelled at him during our interview.
I’d given him the cold shoulder for months, only to break it with snappy retorts.
And worst of all, I had crushed a widower’s heart for the sake of winning an argument on a stupid plane.
The complicated man wasn’t sadistic. He was grieving.
I knew how insidious a broken heart could be, leaching misery into all aspects of life. Even I had felt it over the last few years: the urge to harden against the world. The allure of shutting anyone out who could hurt me. Val had succumbed to it. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—judge him for that.
Without hesitation, I crossed the office and sat on the edge of the desk beside him.
His gaze was unfocused, glued to the computer screen.
Val’s hands sat frozen atop the keys, less than a foot away from mine.
My palms itched to cover his, if only for a comforting moment. The cowards rested in my lap instead.
“I’m sorry I asked,” I murmured. “We don’t need to talk about her.” I wrapped my arms around the guilty knot in my stomach. “Really, Val. You don’t need to say anything. I’m sorry.”
“It’s…” Val cleared his throat. His eyes shifted sideways to my sitting form, only inches away from where his arms rested on the keyboard. He examined me in that peculiar way that made me feel exposed and fluttery. He released another heavy breath.
“It’s okay.” Val stood and moved to the bookshelf. Cradling the picture in his hands, he returned to his seat. “Her name was Stella.” His voice was strained. “We were married for eight years. She passed away a few years ago.”
I couldn’t bear it anymore. Tentatively, I rested my hand on Val’s forearm. The light dusting of dark hair felt soft beneath my fingers. While he still seemed frozen elsewhere, he didn’t pull away.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I whispered.
“I can’t imagine that kind of loss.” I took a steadying breath.
“And I’m also sorry for the things I said to you forever ago on that plane.
I—I didn’t know about… I mean, I never would have insinuated that…
” I bit my lip, raising my eyes to the ceiling tiles as if they could forgive me.
“I regret all of it,” I told the ceiling. “How I’ve acted all these months. Even though I didn’t know the real you back then, you still didn’t deserve the awful way I treated you.”
I finally summoned enough courage to meet Val’s gaze, but it had moved. I followed it to my hand nervously stroking his arm while I spoke. I froze.
Val slowly lifted his eyes to meet mine.
My breath caught at the emotion in them. While they remained dry, the depth of pain in his chestnut irises spoke volumes. Of unfulfilled days and abandoned promises. Of a loneliness so deep I didn’t know how he had ever summoned the strength to go on living.
Ever so gently, Val lifted my hand away and set it back on the desk with a sad smile. He walked to one of the windows, cracking it open and taking a rattling breath.
A few heartbeats later, I joined him. I wanted nothing more than to assure him he wasn’t alone in this moment. Something told me he’d been bearing this burden alone for far too long.
So we stood, side by side, gazing out at the Chicago skyline. Rain splashed the sidewalks below, the sky finally relinquishing its heaviness.
“Thank you for your apology. And thank you for… Just, thank you.” He kept his eyes trained on the downpour, taking a few more shaky breaths from the cracked window.
“No, thank you for sharing. That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t.” He turned, offering a weary smile. “But thank you all the same.” His posture seemed to relax with every passing minute, his breathing becoming more even. Val swayed sideways and softly knocked his shoulder against mine. “Seems to me like you’re trouble.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Trouble?”
“Trouble.” Val chuckled, almost to himself. “I’m way too honest with you.”
A few silent minutes passed. I tried to absorb that information but wasn’t quite sure what he meant by it. A low growl in my stomach distracted me.
“Can I be honest for a minute?” I asked.
“By all means, Adams. Probably couldn’t stop you anyway.” Val seemed to have returned to his playful tone, though there was a new softness in his eyes when he looked at me.
I decided I liked that look. I hoped it was here to stay. This Val was someone I could be friends with. Easily respect.
“I’m starving.”
Val laughed.
“My stomach is eating me from the inside out. And since you haven’t said anything about food, nor have I seen you eat anything this entire day, I’m convinced you’re not human.”
His deep, rich laughter made me glow with pride. I tried to think of other stupid stuff to say, if only to make it last. If only to distract him from the pain still lingering in his eyes.
“I’m trying to decide between a robot, alien, or vampire.”
Val’s laughter continued, though he hitched a challenging eyebrow. “A vampire?”
“Yup,” I said. “Pretty sure that’s the one.”
“If I remember right, Adams, you were the one that rejected my dinner invitation yesterday.” Val’s cocky smirk was back, at least.
“I rejected your dinner invitation, Russo,” I said sweetly, “because no woman should ever, under any circumstance, accept one after being shoved into a closet.”
“Fair enough.” He laughed.
For the second time since I’d known him, Val’s mouth widened into that endearing, lopsided smile, eye crinkles and all.
I couldn’t look away.
“Come on, you weirdo,” he said with a chuckle. “The cafeteria is closed, but there’s vending machines on the first floor.” His hand encircled my wrist, pulling me behind him without a second thought.
Although I would never admit it, I kinda wished he was dragging me back to our closet instead.
“You are the most boring person I’ve ever met. Who likes bland, plain potato chips?” I sat cross-legged on the floor of Val’s office. He sat across from me, leaning his back against the rain-soaked window. Behind the steady curtain of rain, dusk was falling.
Val didn’t respond, instead gesturing to the fluffy chocolate bar in my hand. “You do know those are mostly air, right? They don’t even count as chocolate.”