Chapter Thirty
Zadie
Hospitals had never bothered me. I’d always thought of them as places of healing and comfort. But as Caleb held my hand through the cold, sterile hallway of Copper Ridge Regional, all I could feel was anxiety and grief.
Anxiety because I didn’t know what I’d be walking into with Sean. And grief because it felt like I’d already lost my best friend.
Caleb had called ahead for Sean’s room number. He’d tried Chantel, but Dylan had answered. Just another reminder of how little I truly knew about the woman I’d trusted with everything. She’d had a secret man this entire time, and I’d been completely blind.
When we reached the waiting area, Dylan was reclined in a plastic chair with his head against the wall and his eyes closed. The hard edges of his personality seemed permanently fixed to his face, even in sleep. For someone so intense, he had a remarkable ability to relax under pressure.
Then again, this situation wasn’t nearly as stressful for him. He was in the loop. Unlike me, he had the full story.
“Do you want me to wait here?” Caleb asked, his hand warm in mine.
“No. Come with me. I’ll need you to hold me back in case I get the urge to strangle her.”
He squeezed my hand, and the steadiness of his grip was the only thing keeping me from unraveling.
I glanced back at Dylan. “What about him?”
“He’s staying right here,” Dylan said flatly, his eyes still closed. “But he’d like to remind you that as an officer of the law, he’s obligated to detain and report anyone breaking it. Attempted murder’s a big one. I’d avoid it.”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes flew open and his gaze locked onto mine with a glare that constricted my lungs. “Caleb. You’re a lucky little bastard. Don’t forget it.”
Was that a smile? Hard to tell when no other part of his face moved. One corner of his mouth tilted upward, though. And he winked at me before closing his eyes again.
Cocky ass.
“Don’t worry,” Caleb murmured in my ear as we walked toward Sean’s room. “I already know how lucky I am, and it’s not contingent on you calling me sir.”
We stopped outside the door. I reached deep for courage and came up empty.
Caleb stepped in front of me and took both my hands. His eyes were steady, his voice low. “I’m right here. Whatever happens in there, I’m right here.”
When he looked at me—the way he looked at me—it felt like love. And I thought maybe I was starting to believe it.
Maybe hope wasn’t the enemy I’d thought. Maybe hope was all I’d ever needed.
“I know how lucky I am, too,” I whispered, rising on my toes to press a kiss to his jaw.
He let me lead the way, but we went in together. Because I could do this on my own. I just didn’t have to.
Nothing was what I expected.
Sean’s broad body lay battered and still. Cuts and bruises covered his face and neck. They’d shaved a section of his copper hair away and taped a wide white bandage over it. He looked nothing like the man I’d lived with.
But maybe I’d never really known Sean Brennan at all. Only a shell of the man he could have been.
Beside him, with tears tracking down her face, sat Chantel. She looked like one harsh word could shatter her completely.
“Zadie,” she cried.
I moved past her to Sean’s bedside, not sparing her a glance.
Despite the damage, he looked healthy. His copper beard was neatly trimmed. The muscles he’d previously let go to fat had returned with a vengeance. This might have been the best I’d ever seen him. Unconscious and battered, and still in better shape than when we’d lived together.
Chantel’s quiet sobs finally broke through my assessment. I looked up to find Caleb sitting beside her on the far side of the bed.
When had he left my side? And why?
He murmured something to her I couldn’t make out. Her shoulders dropped and she nodded, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
When he looked up and caught my gaze, all I could see was an apology.
“What happened?” I asked, meaning the accident.
“Which part?” Chantel’s voice was raw. “The part that brought you here now, or the part that led up to this?”
“Start from the beginning.”
She looked to Caleb for reassurance, but his eyes were fixed on me.
“Leave Cal out of it,” I said. “This is between you and me.”
“Cal?” She snorted. “You call him Cal?”
“Stop deflecting,” Caleb said quietly. “Start explaining.”
“Fuck d’ostie. Okay.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Zadie, when I met you, I told you I’d just ended a bad relationship. That was true. And it wasn’t.” She clasped her hands in her lap, knuckles white. “I’d ended things with Sean—”
“Wait.” Something cold spilled through my chest. “The day we met. Did you know who I was?”
“Yes. I approached you on purpose. I wanted to meet you. To see what kind of woman you were…and how much damage he’d done.”
What kind of woman I was? “So you’ve been lying to me from the start.”
“Not lying. Not exactly. Sean and I never had a real relationship. More like an arrangement.”
“Stop talking in riddles.” I pressed my fingers to the throbbing spot above my brow.
“We were fucking.” The word landed like a slap. “But not just each other.”
“So you weren’t exclusive.” I kept my voice flat. “That’s hardly surprising, given Sean.”
“No, you don’t understand. We were exclusive. Very exclusive. But it wasn’t just the two of us.” She met my gaze. “It was three of us.”
“Dylan,” I said, the pieces slamming into place. “The three of you were in a relationship. Together.”
“Oui. Now you’re catching on.”
“I’m not sure I am.” I wasn’t. “How did that work? I don’t need the details—I don’t care who was on top or bottom or whatever. I just want to understand why two men, these two men specifically, would agree to share you.”
Chantel closed her eyes. For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer.
I turned to Caleb. He didn’t look surprised.
“You knew?” The betrayal widened.
“I knew something was going on between the three of them. Years ago.” His voice was careful. “I didn’t know the details. And I didn’t know about you.”
“They weren’t sharing me,” Chantel whispered. When she opened her eyes, the mask was gone. “Sean and I were sharing Dylan.”
She paused, letting the words settle.
“Sean and Dylan had a thing. Dylan and I had a thing. So the three of us decided to have a thing together. Alone, Sean and I had nothing. But we acted as a couple to cover up what the three of us really were.”
My head throbbed harder. “That’s not what I was expecting. But it’s not a big deal, Chantel. I wouldn’t judge you. Any of you. Why were you keeping this from me?”
“I’m the reason he left you, Zadie. Both times.”
“Were you still sleeping with him?” I didn’t want to know. But I needed to.
“No.” The word was immediate and fierce. “God, no. It wasn’t like that. I ended it, just like I told you. Other than running into each other occasionally, we couldn’t be bothered.”
“Then I don’t understand. How were you the cause?”
Her fingers worked the hem of her sleeve. The room went silent. Just the hum of fluorescent lights, the faint beeping of Sean’s monitor, and my own ragged breathing.
Caleb shifted in his chair, stretching to look at Sean. I followed his gaze.
Sean’s eyes were open. Staring at me.
I cried out before I could stop myself, a wounded, startled sound that had Caleb on his feet.
“Sean?” Chantel moved to the other side of his bed. She took his bruised and swollen hand, hovering over him, murmuring his name.
But his unfocused gaze never left me. “What the hell happened?” he croaked.
“I don’t know yet,” I told him. “Chantel hasn’t gotten to that part of her confession.”
He tried to move his head and winced. Chantel pressed his shoulder down with one hand and hit the nurse call button with the other.
“Don’t move,” she ordered, full doctor mode. “You’ve had a major blow to the head. Your doctor will want to see you now that you’re awake.”
“Fuck.” He groaned. “Feels like I got run over.”
“That’s because you did,” she said without humor. “Some idiot in a stolen Camaro ran a red and T-boned you. Dylan saw the aftermath. He thinks you’re lucky to be alive.”
“Don’t feel lucky.”
A nurse hurried in, followed by a doctor. The already tight room became suffocating.
Caleb’s hand found my arm, and he pulled me into the hallway.
“Can you believe it?” My back hit the wall and I leaned into it, needing something solid.
“Yeah, actually.” His voice was calm. “It all makes a lot of sense.”
“Really? You obviously know them better than I do.” Had I ever actually known either of them? “How have I been so na?ve? Or was I just too focused on my own mess to notice what was going on around me?”
His hands found my waist and pulled me off the cold wall, into his arms. I gave in, resting my head against his chest.
“Merde. Why do I keep walking in on this?” Chantel appeared in the hallway, her arms crossed, mascara streaked to her chin. “You two should get a room.”
Caleb turned on her. “Watch your mouth. Not everything’s about sex.”
“Things between me and Cal are none of your business,” I added without looking at her.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was strained. “I’m deflecting again.”
I made myself turn to face her. “I need to know why, Chantel. Why did you make him leave?”
Her brow furrowed. “He’s an addict, Zadie. You must know this. You lived with him. He was drunk or high, or both, practically every day.”
“He wasn’t that bad.” Even as I said it, I knew it was a lie.
“Yes, he was. You know he was.”
She was right. I’d known all along and chosen to look away. Like every other mistake, it had been easier to ignore the problem than confront it.
“I sent him to rehab,” she continued. “He left treatment early the first time, thought he could handle it. He relapsed. So I sent him back.”
“Is that why he’s been ignoring me?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him. I’ve told you everything I know.”
“I think you did the right thing, sending him to get help. I just don’t understand why you’d lie about it,” Caleb said, his body close to mine.
“I do.” The clarity arrived like a wave breaking. “Chantel thought she was protecting me.”
“Protecting you how?” Caleb’s tone was skeptical.
“Because,” I cut in before Chantel got the chance, “sometimes it’s easier to be disappointed and move on than to hold out hope that things can be better. He doesn’t love me. He never did. And no amount of rehab was going to change that.”
“Oui.” Chantel gave me a sad, watery smile. “And I knew you would have waited for him, even though you deserved so much better.”
I held her gaze, searching for the truth in her flooded eyes. “I forgive you.”
“You do?”
“Yes. But I’m still really fucking mad at you. You’ve been a complete bitch.”
“I’m always a bitch.” She wiped her cheeks.
“True. But you usually reserve it for other people. It hurt having it aimed at me.”
Her composure cracked again, more tears escaping. “I promise I’ll do better.”
“Dr. Cotê?” Sean’s doctor appeared in the hallway. “I’d like to update you on Mr. Brennan’s condition.”
“It’s fine, Ed.” She waved him closer. “This is my family. Speak freely.”
“As we suspected, he’s got a mild concussion. But he’s not nearly as bad as we’d feared. He’s responding well to the medications, and we’ve been cautious, given his history. All in all, he’s doing remarkably well.” He shrugged with a reassuring smile.
Relief swept through me. I was angry. I was hurt. But I’d never wished harm on Sean.
Doctor Ed nudged Chantel’s arm. “I think your husband was right. Mr. Brennan seems to have a horseshoe lodged somewhere anatomically improbable.”
My mouth dropped open.
Husband?
“Please don’t let him hear you say that.” Chantel was still mopping tears but smiling now. “If there’s anything my husband loves, it’s being right.”
Husband?
“Oh, I don’t know,” Doctor Ed chuckled. “I think he’s quite in love with you, too. You can see Mr. Brennan now but keep it brief and low-key. Standard protocol for head trauma. But I’m telling you things you already know.”
“Thanks, Ed.”
He left, and Chantel turned back to us with a bright grin. “Are we doing this?”
“Is now really the best time?” I glanced toward Sean’s room.
“Really?” Caleb said. “We’re going to pretend that didn’t just happen?”
Chantel’s smile shifted to something considerably less innocent.
“I’m willing to let it go,” I said, cutting them off before war broke out. “For now. I assume you plan to tell us the full story at some point. Preferably over a very large amount of ice cream.”
When she didn’t answer, I propped my hands on my hips. “Unless you’d rather I go ask your husband about it. I’m guessing I’ll find him in the waiting room.”
“It’s a really long story,” she sighed.
“Lucky for you, we’ve got time,” Caleb said. “Zadie’s not due until May.”
“Shut it, Cal.”
“Enough.” I stepped between them. “Let’s go see Sean before it’s too late. Please.”
“Absolutely.” Caleb took my hand. “Chantel?”
“Yeah. Okay.” She drew herself up, squaring her shoulders. “You’ve got this, cocotte.”
“You know you’ve got this,” Caleb echoed beside me, his blue eyes steady on mine. “But we’re right here. Just in case.”
I turned to him, cupping his jaw, running my thumb over the hard line of his cheekbone. “Just in case,” I murmured.
His mouth found mine—soft, sure, and grounding. A kiss that didn’t demand anything. Just reminded me who I had standing beside me.
“For fuck’s sake,” Chantel groaned. “Unwanted audience over here.”
I smiled against Caleb’s lips and ignored her.
I let myself have one more second. Let his mouth hold me steady.
Then I pulled back. “Let’s do this.”