Chapter 21
Liam
“So, how did it go with Alexander? I tried calling you last night. Sorry, it was later than I planned.” I hated not talking to her yesterday. It felt like a preview of our future. Me in Sonoma, her in Virginia, and I fucking hated it.
“I know. Sorry I missed it, but I was already asleep, actually. I think I was just exhausted from the day.”
“At 9? You feel okay?” She looks kind of pale now that I see her inside. I mean, more pale than usual. She’s in our bed, reading while I unpack. God, I love coming home to her in our house.
“Yeah, I was fine today, though. But, um, the spreading of the ashes was good. I didn’t think I’d actually feel any sort of way, but it actually felt good. Like putting that piece of my life to rest, you know?”
“That’s good.” I smile at her, glad it wasn’t super hard for her. She puts her book down, giving me a slightly nervous look.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you about this for a long time, but I want to know…is the reason you don’t talk about work with me because of…you know?” It’s like taking a knife to the chest, her bringing this up. I knew it would happen eventually, but I always hoped some day was just that, someday. Not today.
I blow out a breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh, yeah. It is.” She gives me a silent nod.
“Well, I wish you would talk to me about work stuff. I want to hear about it, all of it. I don’t need you to tiptoe around anything on my behalf…” She pauses, bracing herself. “Does he know…about us?” Fuck.
“Yes.” No. He knows about us, he doesn’t know it’s her. I can see the surprise on her face.
“Oh, okay. That’s um, good. I’m glad that that’s not like weird or anything for you.” She’s holding something back, but I’d rather talk about anything else than this right now. Not after she just blew my fucking mind on the deck, or how my heart felt like it was going to explode when I heard her talking to the girls about me. I’m going to tell him about her, but not until she goes back to Virginia. I just can’t do it before then.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been more open with you about work. If you’re okay with it, I’ll put it all out there from now on. You’re gonna get so tired of hearing about permits, and inspections, and which rock species will patina the best based on the humidity level of the site.” She laughs, thank god.
“I already take it back…kidding,” and she smiles. “I can’t wait.” It’s so hard not to say “I love you” after she gives me that smile. I’ve been holding it in for weeks now. It’s been torture, but I’m telling her soon, before she leaves. I grab my shaving kit and head to the bathroom, pulling out the small velvet box her ring is in, slipping it into my bottom drawer.
The timing of the foundation going in at Sonoma lined up perfectly with me needing to pick up her ring from Lambert’s Estate Jewelry in San Francisco. I knew whatever I got her had to be different, just like her, and they had it. It’s a piece from 1923, an asscher diamond surrounded by emeralds, the same color as her eyes. I’m planning to give it to her the night before she leaves in five days. I don’t want her to have any doubts about how I see her, us, and our life moving forward.
And, if she says no, then she leaves the next day and I don’t have to live with her, knowing it wasn’t the same for her as it was for me. I shudder at the thought. It’s going to annihilate me if that happens. I’ve never even thought about doing this with anyone else. I’m not lying when I tell her this is just for her. It is. This version of me doesn’t exist without her.
I head to the closet to put away my shoes and I see my MS Group swag hanging up, giving me pause. There’s going to be fallout to deal with once she’s gone. I’m just hoping that it’s not the end of everything I know here. It might be, but a life with her is worth it. I wish I could go with her, but I’ve got some stuff to take care of before I can do that.
“Babe,” she calls to me from our room, “are you ever coming to bed? I wanna finish Deathly Hallows.”
I laugh. “Yep, be right there.” She’s fucking perfect.
The sound of Britain retching in the bathroom wakes me up. Fuck. She isn’t feeling well. I walk into the bathroom, but the water closet door is shut, so I knock softly.
“Babe, are you okay?” She coughs into the toilet. Baby…
“Ugh. yeah. Just a migraine, one second.” I hear the sound of the toilet flushing and she opens the door. Her eyes are puffy and watery, her face pale. Crap, my heart lurches, I’ve never been worried about someone else’s health like this before. I’ve never had a partner where I wish I could take every pain and hurt away from her.
“Want me to get you water? Tylenol?” She heads straight for the sink, splashing water on her face and rinsing with mouthwash before responding.
“Do you have a big t-shirt I could just throw on? Other than that, just a dark room and quiet. At breakfast, I’ll eat some crackers with ginger ale so I can take my migraine medicine. I get these once a month. There’s not much to do but try and sleep it off until the medicine kicks in. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Baby, don’t be sorry.” I grab a MS Group t-shirt from the stack and help slip it on over her head. She heads back to bed, lying down and curling into the fetal position. It hurts me to see her hurting. I look at my phone, 5:30. No use going back to sleep. I slip on a pair of sweatpants and grab my phone off the charger before going around to her side of the bed.
“I’m going downstairs. Call or text if you need anything, and I’ll go pick up ginger ale once the gas station opens, okay?” She just nods, eyes pinched closed. I kiss the top of her head, moving the golden hair off her face.
I make a coffee before heading into my office on the main level. Damn, if she’s not feeling well, this puts a damper on my plans for the weekend. Sandy and I were hoping to surprise her with some line dancing at Colton’s tonight as a little farewell from Rick, and my mom, and Jim.
Sandy should be up. She opens the coffee shop at 6:00 A.M., may as well let her know now.
Liam
Britain has a migraine, I don’t think she’s going to be able to make it tonight.
Sandy
Poor babe. She need anything? I can send Jim.
Pretty sure my mom wasn’t lying when she said she’d disown me for Britain. She’s the new favorite child.
I think we’re good. I’m going to get some ginger ale from the 76 once they open.
Okay, stop by here when you do. Need to talk to you.
Great. I grab my keys, throw on a sweatshirt, and text Britain I’m going to go get her ginger ale.
“Hey, Bubba.” Sandy walks around from the back counter, handing me a box.
“What’s this?”
“Fresh croissants, for Britain. Jim’s testing out a new recipe.” I nod, of course.
“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” I hold up the box in question, but she just shakes her head and motions for me to sit down at a table.
“You’ll never guess who called me yesterday, Julie Scala.” I cringe at the name. Matt’s mom, Constantine’s wife.
“You’re right, would’ve never guessed that. What’d she want?” I ask, suspicious.
“Well, essentially a place to stay. Said she’s finally leaving Constantine.” If I was drinking coffee right now, I would have spit it out.
“Uh, I’m surprised to hear that. Not that she’s leaving, but that she’s actually doing it.” Their marriage has been on the rocks from the day they said ‘I do.’
“Same,” Sandy says, shaking her head in disbelief.
“So, why did you need to talk to me about this?”
“Well, she wanted me to ask you if your garage apartment was going to be available anytime soon.” Not for her, no.
“Not before Britain leaves, but even then, she has four adult sons. Why can’t she stay with them? Or, I don’t know, in a hotel?” I’m shaking my head. Julie is like the original Tori, a deranged manipulator.
“I know. I told her I’d ask, but that you already have a tenant and I don’t know when they’re vacating.” She pauses, “Is Britain really leaving on the sixth?”
“Yeah, she has to. The girls’ semester ends.” I shrug, hating that she’s leaving, but knowing she has to. Sandy just nods her head.
“Did you tell him about her?” No. Damn.
“He knows I’m with someone and it’s serious.”
“But not that it’s Britain?”
“Correct,” I answer, and she just drops her head, shaking it. The disapproval radiating off her.
“Bubba, you gotta say something. Julie said he’s gonna be here this weekend. What then, huh?” What?! My whole body goes stiff with something like fear.
“I just saw him in Sonoma. He didn’t say anything about coming down.”
“He told Julie he was going to come visit you this weekend, meet your new girl.”
“Fuck.” I drop my head, rubbing my throbbing forehead.
“Probably worth a phone call if you don’t want this to all blow up in your face.”
“Right.” Fuck my life. I should have done this a long time ago. Jim walks in through the back, carrying a case of ginger ale. He calls out to us, “Sandy, where do you want this?” She gets up to go talk with him while I’m sitting here trying to figure out how I’m going to work this all out. Do I tell Matt that Britain is my soon-to-be wife? I know that’s not gonna go over well. I can already envision a black eye, maybe a broken jaw.
Sandy walks back over, carrying a bag with four cans of ginger ale inside. “Tell our girl we hope she feels better, k?”
“Yeah, will do.” I get up to leave, stuck in my own head over what to do. I just needed three more days without Matt knowing. Just three fucking days.
“Honesty is the best policy, baby. It’ll be okay. Britain loves you. You don’t need to worry about that, okay?”
“You sure about that?” I’ve never felt so insecure about a relationship. They’ve always wanted to be with me more than I wanted to be with them. This is new for me.
“Yeah baby, I’m sure.” She pats me on the back and nudges me out the door.
“Hey, Bambi.” Britain’s still sleeping, but I want her to take her meds if it’ll help. I rub her shoulder, setting down a ginger ale and a plate of crackers and croissants on her nightstand. She stirs, slowly opening her eyes. I’m glad she was able to fall back asleep. “Do you want me to get your migraine medicine?”
She moves to sit up slowly, groggily. “No, it’s okay. I need to eat first anyways. I’ll grab it when I go to the bathroom.”
“Okay, I uh, need to go make some phone calls, but I’ll work from home today in case you need anything, okay?” I push stray locks of hair out of her face, soaking her up. Even when she’s sick, she’s fucking gorgeous.
“You definitely don’t have to do that. You already cut your trip short. I’m really fine. I’ll just be laying here or sleeping until some of the nausea and pain dies down.”
“Really, you’re sure?” I’d prefer to call Matt when she’s not around.
“Yeah, thanks for bringing all this stuff up. Are you sure you want me eating crackers and croissants in your bed?” She laughs gently, then winces from the pain.
“Our bed,” I correct her, “and I don’t care what you do as long as you start feeling better, okay?” I kiss her forehead as her cheeks go pink. “I’m gonna shower. I can go to the guest room if the noise will bother you, though.” She just shakes her head.
“No, I uh, already feel slightly better after getting some more sleep.” She gives me that half smile of hers, and as I bend forward to place a kiss on her temple, “I love you, Bambi,” slips right out of my mouth. Shit. She startles a little bit from the words and I freeze. Whatever look is on her face, whatever she says next is going to make me or break me. I feel like I might be sick to my stomach, too, as I lean back and see that her eyes are wide, but unreadable.
“I didn’t mean to just blurt that out,” rushes out of me quickly.
“You didn’t mean it?” she asks quietly, cautiously.
“No, I did mean it. I do mean it. I just didn’t mean to put that out there right now, I’m sorry. I had a whole plan to tell you, but please, please don’t feel like you need to say anything back, okay?”
“I love you too, Liam.” She laughs, her face lighting up, the vice on my chest squeezes tighter. “If I didn’t just vomit a couple hours ago, I’d kiss you. Sorry.” Damn, this might be the best moment of my entire fucking life. Even if Britain is sick, she’s still in our bed, wearing my clothes, in our house, telling me she loves me, too. I cup her face with my hand and stroke her with my thumb, smiling at her like she hung the fucking stars. My chest feels like it might rupture. I love her so much it hurts.
“I love you, baby. I need you to feel better, okay?” She just nods in response and I drop another kiss on the top of her head. I really don’t want to go into work after, well, this. But I have to, especially now that I know she loves me back. I have to tell Matt. Fuck.
As soon as I have decent service on my way into the office, I call Matt. I have no clue what his reaction is going to be over the phone. I know if this was in person, he’d probably punch me in the face. Probably try to beat the shit out of me. I fucked up all those years ago, but he eventually forgave me. I just don’t know if he’s going to forgive this.
“Hey, man,” he answers.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Uh, good, just driving. What’s up?” Yeah, I don’t normally call just to shoot the shit on a Friday morning.
“I heard that you might be paying me a visit this weekend?”
“There goes the surprise,” he says and laughs.
“I actually have something planned for this weekend already. I was going to wait to tell you, but I’m going to propose.”
“No shit?” He sounds astonished. Me too, man.
“Yeah.”
“To Bambi?”
“Well, that’s the thing, Bambi is just a nickname. I’ve been needing to tell you this, but-”
“You’re gay?” What?
“No, man. Uh, no. Bambi’s real name is Britain…Palomino-Scott.” He goes dead silent. I give him a couple seconds. “Matt, you there?”
“Is this a fucking joke?” He sounds stunned, and fucking pissed.
“No. It’s not a joke. I’m planning to ask Britain to marry me…this weekend.”
He scoffs, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, I’m not.”
“So she came back and you not only didn’t tell me, you started dating her and now you want to marry her? That’s, uh, yep, pretty fucked up.”
“I didn’t know I was going to fall in love with her, okay? She happened to be my tenant, and I asked her to dinner, and it just happened. I didn’t plan it, okay? It just happened.”
“You’re in love with her?” He laughs. “That’s fucking rich, man. You’re like my fucking brother. You know how many years it took me to stop being angry with you over what you made me do?!” he shouts through the line.
“I do love her. I’m sorry, man, I can’t help it.”
“You’ve taken her away from me twice now. You fucking robbed me of the life I wanted, AGAIN!”
“Listen, I didn’t make you break up with her. I gave you an option, and you chose what you chose, okay? I was in just as tight a spot as you were. We all had decisions to make and you chose to hurt her. You could have done it differently. Or not done it at all!”
“She doesn’t know you made me do it. Did you tell her…what you did? What your part in all of it was?” She doesn’t know?
“You never told her why you broke up with her?” How could she not know?
“Nope.” There’s satisfaction in his tone. Fuck, I thought she knew. I thought that’s why she was so pissed at me when she got here. No, no, no, no. “You fucking wrecked her life, my life, and she doesn’t know it was you. Wonder what she’ll think when she finds out? I mean, if she finds out, right? It’s not like you’re gonna tell her. Pretty hard to incorporate something like that into a marriage proposal, huh?” This is my worst fucking nightmare.
He’s not done, though. “You know, I can really sympathize with your situation. Finding someone you want more than anything in the world, but having an outsider force your hand for their own motives. See the parallels?” His tone bites. I had no clue he still felt this strongly towards her.
“Yeah, I fucking see it, alright? I’m sorry, I fucked up back then. I know it. I’ve spent a lot of fucking years trying to make up for it. Trying to do right by you, and your family. Working myself to death to keep everyone and everything above water. Britain is the one thing I’ve done that’s for me. She’s the one good thing I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Same, man. Britain was the one good thing I had in my life, too.”
“Matt, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” he laughs ironically. “Me too, man. Listen, don’t fucking call me again, okay? I can’t, can’t even fucking think about this with out wanting to slam my fist into your face.”
“Yeah…got it.” I don’t even finish my last word before he ends the call. That couldn’t have gone worse. I know I should be worried about what this means for work, or for Matt and me, but I can’t. I only care about Britain right now, and FUCK! The thought that I have to tell her what I did is making me sick. I don’t know if she’ll forgive me. Fuck.