Chapter 35
Brian
A light rain drizzled gently on my head as I turned to lock my front door. The weather hadn’t been great today, with rain clouds coming and going and a lingering wind that carried a biting chill. It wasn’t advisable to go out. Certainly not recommended to go for a run.
Although, the way I’d been feeling lately, it might as well be shitting rainbows and unicorns. Not even the weather gods could bring my mood down. Harry had even caught me whistling along to Waterloo by ABBA when it came on the radio we kept on site. They’d started speculating—or gossiping, in my opinion—whether I’d started dating someone. I was annoyed but not surprised by their nosiness. After all, they’d never seen me act this way, even when I’d been sleeping around regularly.
Two of my men called in sick this past week. There’d been a delay with the delivery of roof tiles, and I’d had to wade through bureaucratic red tape by the town council. I handled it all without my usual gruffness, even telling our roof supplier not to worry about it and that we all made mistakes. There’d been a prolonged silence on the line; I’d thought he’d hung up.
Maria was the only thing that got me through a week that normally would’ve had me tearing my hair out. That, and reliving the taste and feel of her lips. As far as kisses went, it was chaste as fuck; but going by the boner that had been punching my jeans on the drive home, it was practically pornographic.
I couldn’t wait to see her again. To listen to her and watch her small hands as they gestured around while she told me about her day. The way she stared at me with a tiny smile as I relayed mine. The feel of her small body against mine when we hugged.
Unfortunately, it would be a while before I saw her again. Next week, Maria, Charli, and Toni were heading to New York for a couple of days for a hair seminar. Who knew they had those? She’d been working extra hours lately to get on top of paperwork since they’d be understaffed, briefly, during that time. I understood the pressure of running your own business and the worry and strain she was under. Still, I hoped to see her before she left—even if it was for a few minutes.
I bent over to tuck my key in my sock, but when I straightened, a figure at the end of the drive had me almost jumping a foot in the air.
“Sarah.”
My sister-in-law had a tentative smile straining her face as she watched me quietly. I hadn’t heard from her since she’d sent me that ranting text, and discomfort at the memory started to crowd me. It felt unnatural not to see Diane and Sarah regularly, so I was happy to see her despite our tensions. But I still had no idea what to say to her.
“Hi,” she greeted, shifting on one foot to another.
“Sarah. Hey, how are you?”
She lifted a slim shoulder, her mouth turning down. “I’m doing okay.” She sounded so forlorn, and I felt guilty for not reaching out sooner.
“I haven’t heard from you in a while.” She slowly shuffled up the driveway, her movements unsure.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s been a weird few weeks.” By weird, I meant terrific. But I wasn’t ready to share Maria yet with her. Sarah wasn’t ready for me to share Maria with her.
Another small smile covered a face wreathed in regret. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
Tenderness washed over me as she rubbed her elbow. “Of course.” I covered the distance between us before folding her small, tense frame in our usual hug. She sniffled as her arms wrapped around my waist, burying her face in my shoulder. I closed my eyes as I held her, and a wave of heavy emotion cloaked our embrace.
Fat drops started to fall faster on my nose and head. I quickly pulled back just as the skies began to open. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”
Her head nodded against my shoulder as I wrapped my arm around her and guided her into the house.
“Were you about to head out?”
“I was about to go for a run, but I’ll have to wait until the heavy rain clears.“ I squeezed her shoulder. “You came just in time to stop me.”
She didn’t smile at my joke. Instead, her eyes roamed around the house as her arm quickly dropped from my waist. I’d forgotten that I’d done a semi-redecoration of my home, clearing out a few decors that Hannah had chosen that weren’t to my taste. A fresh change was needed in my journey to starting over post-Hannah. It was obvious to anyone who’d previously been in my home that a woman’s touch sang out in the decor and coloring. I didn’t want Maria to feel uncomfortable or feel that she was competing with my late wife. Far from it.
I tried to see my place from Sarah’s point of view. The changes I made weren’t huge. A few photos of Hannah and I had been taken down; the white ceramic doves she kept on the mantel were also missing. I’d replaced the clock she bought with one more suited to my tastes. The many throw pillows I had to constantly take off the couch were gone, and I downsized the coffee table. I’d made it myself and only finished the sanding and varnishing last week.
Sarah’s nose flared, and her lips flattened as she peered at me. Her eyes flashed a look of betrayal before it suddenly cleared. I allowed a sliver of guilt to immobilize me before I pushed those feelings aside. I was allowed to move on. I was allowed to make changes to my own space. For the first time in years, I felt hopeful. Happy.
“I thought I was going to help you sort out Hannah’s things.”
I folded my arms against her accusatory tone. If Sarah was going to cause another scene, I had no problem letting her know my boundaries. “It was best that I did it. I already gave you and Diane some of Hannah’s things, and I’ll pass on a few more when I see Diane next. The rest I donated or put in storage.”
Her chest compressed rapidly and she gestured widely around. “You’ve changed the whole vibe of the place.”
“Sarah, the vibe of the place was Hannah and I as a married couple.” I shook my head. “With her gone, it’s just things.”
Her eyes flashed as she turned to face me. “So, what, now you’re just going to move on?”
“I don’t want to start an argument, Sarah.”
Her brow pulled down, and her mouth tightened. I braced myself for another verbal attack. If she was going to start in on me again, I had no problem kicking her out.
To my surprise, her expression cleared. She took a deep breath before fixing me with an overly bright smile. “Okay. I’ll drop it,” she conceded. She crossed into my kitchen and grabbed my kettle. “Tea?”
I wanted something a little stronger if I had to deal with Sarah’s moods. The sooner she had her tea and left, the better. She wasn’t making me feel comfortable in my own home, especially when she shook her head in disapproval as she realized that I’d moved the tea jar.
Hannah and Sarah were big tea drinkers. I never took to it, preferring plain black coffee. I kept the tea jar full these days for Sarah and Diane when they came around. But I moved the jar to a top cupboard during my mini clean-out to give me more counter space.
With my hot tea in hand, we moved to the living room, and I took a seat in my armchair. I sipped the hot brew slowly, not knowing what to say. It had never been like this between us—this great divide of awkward silences and polite glances. I had an inkling that Sarah had a whole vitriol of shit she wanted to offload on me, but fear of disapproval from myself and her mom held her back. When she glanced at me, she leveled me with a caviling look; her mouth pursed as if forcing her mouth closed in case she let loose on me.
“Mom and I went out to dinner on Saturday. We missed you.”
I placed my tea on the floor since I moved the coffee table closer to her. “I’ll make the next one,” I promised. I didn’t mention that I wanted to speak with Diane first to clear the air.
“What about our weekly dinners?”
A pit of dread crumbled in my stomach. I planned on keeping Maria around for as long as she’d let me. I didn’t mind attending the odd dinner at Diane’s, but with my relationship with Maria growing, it would be weird for her to attend dinner at my in-law’s house every week. There was no way I wanted to go on my own, leaving her behind. I only had to put myself in Maria’s shoes to realize that I would not be overly pleased if she attended weekly dinners with a past partner’s family. With or without me.
I wanted to make new memories with her. One day, Sarah and Diane would meet Maria, but there needed to be a clear line between my old life and new, especially with Sarah chiming in and making snide remarks about my personal life. I didn’t want anything else to hurt Maria.
“I’ve mentioned this to Diane, and I’m not sure if she told you, too. I’m starting to dip back into dating.”
She peered at me over the rim of her mug before taking a slow sip. “Yeah, I heard.”
“I’ve started seeing someone.”
Her head jerked up. “Already?” Her voice rose an octave higher. She squinted at me. “You already had someone lined up when you spoke to Mom, didn’t you?”
“I liked someone, yes,” I calmly replied. “But I wasn’t sure if she wanted to date me.”
“Because you’re a widower?” she demanded to know. She placed her tea on the table and crossed her arms. “Does she not want you seeing us? Is that why you’re cutting us out?”
I sighed and rubbed the throb between my eyes. “No. She hasn’t said anything negative about either of you. And I haven’t cut you out.”
“You told her about us?” She glared at me as she lifted her chin. “I don’t like to be discussed.”
This time, I couldn’t hide my frustration. “Sarah, I told her briefly about Hannah. How we met, how she passed, and that she had a sister and mom whom I’m close to. I didn’t disclose anything personal about you or Diane.” Sarah opened her mouth, but I cut her off. “What I told her about my marriage to Hannah is my right and my business.”
Sarah surveyed me with glittering eyes and a raised chin that wasn’t quite steady. I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t want to fight with you, Sarah, but if you’re going to judge me because I’m dating four years after Hannah –”
“Dating,” she scoffed. “Don’t you mean sex?” Her brow raised as she dared me to deny her accusation.
A month ago, I would have cowered under her critical glare. I would’ve been so ashamed of myself, and I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a little bit of that shame still lingering. Seeing Dr. Grant showed me that grief and mourning came in different forms and were expressed in many ways.
Did I regret what I did with other women? Yes. But at the same time, I knew it was what I needed to survive during a heavy period where my sadness weighed me down to the pits of a depressive ocean. It was also a shit lot more common than I’d expected.
As gross as it may seem to Sarah and Diane or anyone else looking in, at the end of the day, I wasn’t hurting Diane or Sarah on purpose. My private life was also my business. I knew my heart, and it loved Hans completely. I loved her right and faithfully.
“I’m sorry if my actions hurt you, Sarah. But I won’t be discussing that part of my life. All you need to know is that I was faithful to Hannah. I didn’t look twice at another woman while she was in my life. I’m also dating someone. Someone I like very much and hope will turn into something more one day.”
A heavy silence filled the room as Sarah stared at me defiantly. My impassioned speech hadn’t seemed to move her. This wasn’t healthy. Her fixation on me and my love life was problematic.
So when she sighed and relaxed back on the couch, I knew I still couldn’t let my guard down. “Okay,” she relented. “I understand.”
She stood and snatched her handbag up, opening it. She dug inside until she produced a small, white envelope.
“What’s that?”
She read the front of the envelope before slowly extending it to me. “Hannah wrote me letters while she was sick. She wrote one for you, too. Here it is.” Her tone was so matter-of-fact, as if she were passing me a recipe I’d asked for.
My breath shallowed, and my heart climbed to my throat. I took it off her and stared at Hannah’s familiar curved script. I deftly opened the flap with a shaky hand and scanned the first sentence.
My Dear Husband,
This is the hardest letter I’ve ever had to write. Do you remember the first time we met?
I glanced up at Sarah just in time to see a look of satisfaction clear. I recalled Dr. Grant’s focus when I reminisced about the letters Sarah had given me a few months back. I knew what she’d been thinking, but I’d ignored the look because I didn’t think Sarah had deliberately shown them to me. But now I had to wonder.
“Why am I only seeing this now?”
“What?”
“This letter.” I shook it at her. “It’s over four years old, Sarah. Why am I only getting it now?”
She scratched her elbow and shrugged. “She asked me to give them to you when I knew you were ready.”
My brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”
“Ready. Maybe she meant dating.”
“Maybe dating, or she said when I started dating?”
She blew her breath out with an impatient snort. “What does it matter? She just told me to give it to you when you’re ready. I interpreted it how I wanted to. I knew my sister, and she trusted my judgment.”
I carefully folded the letter, wanting privacy when I read it. Given the fact the envelope was already open, it was easy to deduce that Sarah had likely read it. “You should’ve given it to me when you gave me the other letters you found.”
She shrugged again, her cheeks painting red. “I did what I thought was right. She trusted me with her words and I chose to give it when I saw fit.”
I couldn’t say anything. A hot fury was making its way up my stomach, and I knew if I tried to respond, I wouldn’t be able to restrain the hurtful words I wanted to growl at her.
She huffed her breath. “You can’t be mad at me, Brian. I honored her wishes.” She threw her bag over her shoulder and squinted at me. “You’re different now, Brian. You’ve changed. I’m not sure Hannah would’ve liked it.”
With that parting shot, she stormed out, leaving me alone with Hannah’s last words crushed in my hand.