Chapter 10
Water slid down my back as I pressed my forehead to the cool tile, trying to wake up after a long night of dreams, dreams that hadn’t let me go.
I could not believe Aurora and I had had sex in my office. There had been no discussion, just need. Perhaps that’s what we both needed. That hadn’t been the first time we kissed, nor had it been the first time we looked at one another and seemed as if maybe we wanted more. And yet, it had been so different from anything I would have thought possible from the sweet and honest and innocent Aurora.
I thought perhaps I tainted it, had forced the situation, but she had been willing as well.
I couldn’t believe what just happened, nor was I sure what I was supposed to do next.
After we had righted our clothes and I kissed her again, we went right back to work. There were weddings and parties to prepare for, and I had to keep the place safe.
And yet, how was I supposed to do that when my mind was on her?
The way she tasted, the way she felt. The way I had no idea what we were going to do when we saw each other next.
What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t two people just have sex and be with each other without all this thinking and this wanting and this guilt? Maybe it was because she was the first person I slept with after losing Heather. And I think I was the first person she had slept with after losing her husband.
It was just two people having survived loss coming together. In whatever way we needed. I couldn’t say we were two widows, because I wasn’t even a widower. Losing your girlfriend and unborn child didn’t give you a label. It just left you with nothing. I still wasn’t sure what I was supposed to call myself. But I moved away from the place where people still remembered me. Remembered us. Who knew what I lost.
I didn’t know what I was going to say to Aurora when I saw her next. I’d have to come up with something. I didn’t want it to be awkward. We were two consenting adults who had held on to each other. She was further along in processing her grief than I was. Everybody seemed to know hers, while I still hid mine. Maybe that was a problem. Something I would deal with. But for now, I was going to get out of the shower, get to work, and see Aurora again.
I didn’t want to talk about my feelings or anything like that, but there was an odd sense in my gut that told me that something was changing here. That this was important. I wasn’t the kind of man who hurt women. So, I wasn’t going to hurt Aurora. Only, I didn’t want to get hurt in the process either.
That would be on me. I knew that. But did she?
I finished showering and headed to the kitchen to get some coffee and get ready for my day.
All I wanted was to figure out what the fuck I was supposed to do next and get through my day. It wasn’t going to be easy, not when I couldn’t keep my mind off Aurora, but I’d get through it.
It wasn’t like I had another fucking option.
Once my travel cup was filled with coffee, I quickly made up a bagel with cream cheese and headed towards the rest of the day.
It was a beautiful morning, for which I was grateful. It had been dark and gloomy the past couple of days, and I had a feeling that some of the recent weddings probably weren’t happy with the lack of light for photos, though a light overcast light is generally nice for photos due to fewer shadows.
I smiled at myself, wondering why that had been the first thing that came to mind when I thought about the weather—the weddings, and this place of business.
I was damn lucky to do what I do. Not everyone was as fortunate to have a career that they loved, got to work with family, and mostly set their own hours. I worked with Trace, but if there were certain projects I’d rather work on, I had the option to. I owned part of the business, after all, even though I tried not to think about that. My life seemed so different than what I’d planned. Much like everything else.
There was a cool breeze coming in, and I was happy to be wearing my long charcoal-gray Henley and jeans, rather than a short sleeve shirt like I usually did.
People were milling about, coffees in hand, as they laughed with one another. Some families were out, kids laughing and screaming and running around, and I ignored the punch in the gut at that, because I wasn’t going to think about them. They ran off to see the baby goats and chickens, which a staff member took care of so I didn’t have to be anywhere nearby. I was all for trying to be sustainable, but I didn’t like to deal with animals.
“Why are you up so early?”
I turned to see Gabriel walking towards me, Wyatt at his side. Wyatt had dark circles under his eyes and looked as if he hadn’t slept much, while Gabriel, in all his rockstar glory, looked well put together, if a little unkempt with messy hair.
“You guys are up early, too, so why are you asking me?” I asked.
Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Slutboy over here wanted pancakes.”
“Stop calling me slutboy,” Gabriel muttered, his cheeks reddening as he looked around to see if anyone was listening. Thankfully it didn’t seem to be the case, but I still glared at Wyatt since we were at our place of business.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“What? It’s his new hashtag online. It’s quite cute. What was that last model’s name?”
“Miss Never Going to Get Her so stop thinking about that,” Gabriel answered. “Although, I didn’t sleep with her either. You know the media. Hell, you should definitely know the media with what Lark has to deal with.”
I just shook my head and sipped my coffee. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re up so early. Or have you not gone to bed yet?” I asked, brow raised.
Gabriel smiled like a cat in cream, and I sighed, wondering what the hell this kid was doing. Not that he was a kid anymore, but seriously. One day he was going to fuck up, and then we were going to have to deal with it. But for now, he seemed to be on the right course.
Wyatt, on the other hand, chuckled. “I was sleeping after not going to bed until after three because I closed last night, and now I’m exhausted because this asshole wanted me to wake up.”
“You’re the one who said I could sleep in your guest room. It’s not my fault you’re a light sleeper.” Gabriel beamed and reached out for my coffee.
I smacked his hand away and glared. “My coffee. No touchy.”
“You haven’t seen that movie in how long, and you still quote it all?” Gabriel asked, his eyes dancing.
“It wasn’t supposed to be a llama,” I said deadpan as my brothers rolled their eyes, and we headed towards the hotel restaurant, the bagel I had eaten not enough after hearing about pancakes.
I was on paperwork duty today, so I ate pancakes with my brothers, nodded and talked to the rest of the Wilders as they came in and out, then headed to my office.
The scene of the crime, as it were.
Because even though this place had been cleaned the night before, and we had tidied up and made sure there was no evidence of what happened, I could still smell her.
Damn it. This was going to be a fucking problem.
I ignored that though, because I had work to do. And while Aurora was going to be on my mind after what happened, I had to focus on something else if I was going to survive this with my sanity intact. At least part of my sanity.
I had my door open, since I wasn’t working on anything high priority or with sensitive information, so I could hear people walking back and forth, some of my family members heading to their offices, some bigwigs here for a retreat and renting out the conference room.
A knock at the door pulled my attention, and I blinked in surprise at who stood in the doorway, the bottom of my stomach falling.
I swallowed, my pen falling from my hand as I stood up, staring at Heather’s parents. I couldn’t believe they were here. Why were they here?
Justin White stood with a frown on his face, as his wife Laura White stood next to him, both of them looking as if they’d seen a ghost, but maybe they had. After all, I hadn’t seen them since the funeral. The same funeral where they had shouted at me to leave because I was no longer welcome in their presence.
The Whites had never liked me. I hadn’t married their daughter when they thought I should, and then I’d gotten her pregnant. Neither one of us thought that a piece of paper was going to change how we felt about one another. I worked in weddings day in and day out now, but I still felt like it was up to the couple or triad if they wanted to make it legal. If they wanted the big bash where they declared their love for each other in front of friends and family. If they wanted to go to the courthouse, or have a small picnic, I didn’t fucking care. Heather and I wanted to do everything on our own terms, in our own time. And because of that, I hadn’t been able to be there. I hadn’t been able to go behind the closed doors of the hospital. I wasn’t next of kin.
I was just the person left behind for her parents to blame.
“We heard that you had moved here, but I hadn’t realized you worked here, too,” Laura White said into the quiet. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say to that. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to say anything.
“I own this place with my family. It’s a Wilder company.” My voice sounded dull.
Heather’s father narrowed his gaze. “Then you’ve landed on your feet. What do you do here? Run the business?”
“I help run security.”
That was the worst thing I could have said, because Heather’s father scoffed and looked over my head, as if he couldn’t even bear the sight of me.
I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t stand the sight of me either sometimes.
“You protect people, but you couldn’t protect her? It should have been you. Our baby girl’s gone, and you couldn’t protect her. You let all of this happen, and we’ll never forgive you. You left town because you couldn’t stand the guilt, and now you’re here, thriving? How could you?”
“We should go. I can’t even look at him,” Justin grumbled.
“It should have been you! It should have been you!” Heather’s mother wailed, and I couldn’t say anything. I just let her scream.
I didn’t even see Trace come in and pull her back.
“Ma’am. You’re going to have to restrain yourself.”
“Get your hands off my wife!”
I stepped forward, my hands outstretched. “Trace, you can let her go as long as they agree to leave.”
“Are you sure, Ridge?”
“Don’t you dare touch me. I’ll sue you. I’ll have this whole business in my hands,” Laura spat.
“Come on, honey. We’ll just leave, we don’t need to stay here for the wedding.”
Wedding? So they were here for someone’s wedding. They hadn’t realized it was at a place that had my last name? That was on them. But the bile rising up my throat, that was on me.
Trace gave me a look, letting me know that I would have to have answers later. The problem was I didn’t have any.
Trace and two others of my team came and escorted them out, while I stood there, palms damp, hands shaking.
But then I realized I wasn’t alone. Aurora was there, her face pale as she looked at me.
I didn’t have any words for her. What the hell was I supposed to say that would make sense?
“Just go.”
Aurora shook her head as she moved forward and closed the door behind her. It made a soft click that sounded like it was echoing in my head. I sat down in the visitor chair in front of the desk and moaned.
“Ridge. Who were they?” she asked softly, her hand tentatively touching my shoulder. I jerked away, not because it was her touch, just because it was any touch, and I looked up to see the hurt on her gaze before she blinked it away. Cursing, I reached out and gripped her hand.
“I’m sorry. You’re not doing anything wrong. I just, I wasn’t expecting to ever see them again. Let alone in my fucking office.”
“Who were they, Ridge?”
“Nobody. Just people from my past.”
“I’ve told you everything that happened with me. My past, and how it keeps coming up. For me, it helps to talk about it, but if it doesn’t help you, I’ll go. But I’m here if you need a shoulder. Or just someone to rant at.”
I looked up at her, at the determination in her face, and I was just so tired.
“They are the parents of my dead girlfriend.” She flinched at my flat tone, but I kept going.
“Heather and I had been dating for a couple of years, and her parents didn’t like me because I wasn’t a doctor or a lawyer or anything that made good money. I did okay for myself, didn’t have any debt, and we were saving for a house. We lived together, loved each other. I was twenty minutes late to the homecoming parade.”
Her eyes widened, and I realized that South Texas wasn’t as big as people thought. Geographically it was fucking huge, but something like what I was about to say? That made the news. And people remembered.
“Oh, Ridge.”
“She was waiting for me, annoyed, but it was fine. I kissed her as soon as I got there, said I was sorry, then the first shot rang out. The three men shot into the crowd because they hated people, or just wanted to make the news and go out in a blaze of glory, killed seven people. Eight in reality, though they don’t count that in some numbers. One of the people they killed had been driving, and that car ran into the crowd. I pulled Heather out of the way of the car, afraid she was going to get hit, but I was too slow to stop the bullet. Or the second one. One slammed right into her chest, the other into her stomach. Where our unborn child was growing.”
Tears were freely falling down her cheeks and I stood up, reaching to wipe them away.
“Her parents wouldn’t even let me say goodbye. I couldn’t go to her bedside, couldn’t hear anything from the doctors because I wasn’t family. I wasn’t next of kin. It wasn’t until they realized Heather had been pregnant that they actually let me hear anything because I was the father. I was barely allowed at the funeral, and I couldn’t even stay in town to find out what they wanted to do to me next.”
“How could they blame you for that act of hate? That wasn’t you.”
“For some reason they felt like if I had been there on time, we would have moved and not been in that position. Or if I would’ve used my skills and training to move her out of the way and not protect myself, their daughter would be alive. They need someone to hate, and it had to be me.”
“And they can’t hate the men who did that?”
“They can. But they only caught two of the guys. The third one ran off on foot, and they never found him. We don’t even know what he did, how he was part of it, or who fired the shots that killed Heather. But they hate me, and I don’t blame them. Sometimes I hate myself.” I swallowed, the guilt hitting me hard. “It’s been two and a half years. Two and a half years since the shooting, since my life changed. And I still think about her every day, just like you think of your William. But her parents? They hate me more and more. I can’t change that. I don’t even know if I should try.” I sat down, my hands over my face as the tears came, and Aurora held me.
I didn’t even realize that’s what I wanted, what I needed, until her arms were around me, whispering sweet words I could barely understand. But she kept telling me it wasn’t my fault. And while a part of me believed that, it was hard for all of me to.
I pulled her into my lap, needing to hold her a bit closer. She curled into me, and I held her close as I let it all out.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know,” I whispered. We were silent for long enough my chest ached more, but finally I let out another breath. “But sometimes it feels like it.”
“I know about guilt. We both know that. But you’re not alone. And I have a feeling your family doesn’t know?”
I shook my head, my forehead against hers.
“Tell them, Ridge. They deserve to know.”
“I know. I need to. I will. Once I figure out what to do.”
“Well, with what just happened, I don’t think you’re going to have a choice soon.” I just held her after that; we didn’t kiss, didn’t do anything beyond holding each other.
Because that was the first time I’d ever laid it all out. Ever let myself do so.
And the fact that it was with Aurora? The fact that I felt safe enough to do that? That meant something.
What? I didn’t know. But I had a feeling I was going to find out.