Chapter 20
Vee
Holding Ash’s sweet little boy in my arms has me in tears.
He is absolutely perfect. I always thought baby fever was a figure of speech.
I was so wrong. Holding Jacey in my arms makes me want a little one of my own.
I could see a beautiful little girl with Josh’s eyes.
Twin little boys, one with Hank’s tenderness and the other with Luke’s creativity.
Or any combination of the three. But that perfect image fades away.
The reality is, I’m a cancer to the club. I’ve pitted three brothers against each other. Maybe it would be best for everyone if I leave. Let my finger randomly pick a new town in a state far from here and start fresh. I’d miss Luca and my besties. But I could always keep in touch with them.
As much as I want to stay and visit with Ash at the hospital, I know this is precious time for her little family.
I can tell by the tired look on Ash’s face; that she is ready for some rest, and she definitely isn’t going to get that with a room full of people.
And I need to think about what I am going to do.
The drive to my apartment passes in a blur.
When I pull into my parking spot, I sit there for a minute and stare off into space.
Could I just up and leave? Build a life in a new state?
Arizona did and other than being held captive by her asshole father and the man she was sold to, it turned out okay for her.
“Maybe,” I whisper. Just maybe I’ll pack everything up and leave. Start fresh. I just need to know that things will go back to normal between Hank, Josh, and Luke before I disappear.
Opening my car door, I get out and open the back driver side door, grabbing my bags. I load up my arms, planning to take everything in one trip. But it doesn’t work out that way. I leave my bedding and head to my apartment.
I juggle my bags and open my apartment door, the familiar scent wrapping around my body, grounding me.
There’s no obnoxious smoke or alcohol scent.
No overwhelming smell of sex taunting me.
It’s home. And I’ve missed it. I inhale, taking a deep breath and my heart sinks as a tinge of Hank’s familiar woodsy cologne remains.
I drop my bags. I walk over to the window, pulling back the sheer curtains and open the window, then open the balcony doors. As much as I hate doing it, I need to rid my apartment of his smell.
When I leave my apartment, I opt for the stairs instead of the elevator, not wanting to risk running into anyone in the building and needing to fake polite conversation.
Stepping outside the building, I’m momentarily blinded by the sun, needing to hold up my hand to block it from my eyes.
Something on my windshield catches my attention.
When I get closer, I see it’s a rose. A lone red rose.
There’s no note. Just the flower, wrapped in pink tissue paper.
My head quickly swivels from left to right, looking for who put it there, but there’s no one.
The parking area is empty of anyone but me.
I carefully lift the wiper blade and remove the flower, then get the bag with my bedding out of the trunk. Making sure my doors are locked, I head back to the entrance of the building. A shiver runs down my spine and I glance over my shoulder. But there’s nothing there.
“You’re being silly,” I mutter under my breath.
It has to be Josh. A single rose isn’t something Luke or Hank would do.
I bet anything Josh saw me at the hospital and followed me.
Leaving the rose was his way of letting me know he was still there, while still giving me space.
Something I don’t think he’s going to give me for long, with his previous visits to both the clubhouse and the bar.
I should toss it. I even think about it when I get in my apartment.
But something keeps me from doing it. Instead, I open my cabinet and take down a glass, making a pseudo vase since I don’t have one.
Flowers aren’t something I’m used to getting.
Mind blowing orgasms. Yep, those I’ve gotten.
Candy and flowers and all that girly stuff. Never.
I drag myself to the bedroom and flop down on the bed, letting my body fall backward. My eyes are focused on the twirling blades of the ceiling fan, wishing it was a random wheel that would land on the answer to all my problems. Shocker. It isn’t.
Rolling over onto my side, I reach out, taking hold of a pillow and pulling it tight to my chest. Wrapping my arms around it, I lower my head, inhaling deeply.
Hank. It still smells like him. That’s when I let the tears flow.
I let out every emotion I’m feeling. My heart breaks again as I replay everything that’s happened.
The strain I put in their relationship. Especially Luke and Hank.
They were close. Why couldn’t I just be honest from the beginning?
I should’ve talked to Hank about my feelings before now.
If I’d known in the beginning, then I could’ve pulled away. Ended it before it ever really started.
I wake up feeling like I’ve just been on a drunken bender.
But I haven’t. Not even one drop of alcohol.
My throat burns, and my eyes feel heavy and swollen.
The pillow I’m gripping tightly under my head is damp, not from sweat or drool, but my tears.
There’s a dull ache in my chest, and I feel like the weight of the world is pressing down on me.
I don’t move at first. I just lay there, frozen, wishing myself back to sleep. But it doesn’t come. Instead, I stare off into space wondering what my life would be like if I had never offered to take care of Hank. If Ash was never taken and I wasn’t placed in close proximity with Josh.
But I can’t. Because those things did happen.
My body feels stiff as I roll over onto my back. My eyes focus on the ceiling, the tiny popcorn cracks of the paint as I swallow. It hurts, but it doesn’t match the pain in my heart. I place my hands on the bed, shifting slightly to my right as I swing my feet off the side of the bed and sit up.
My head throbs and my chest tightens. I sit there for a moment, my eyes not focused on anything as I chew on my bottom lip. The quiet is deafening.
I let out a sigh knowing what I need to do. But not wanting to do it because it’ll make it final.
Standing up, I walk to the bathroom and keep my head down. I don’t want to see my reflection in the mirror. Not yet. My hands grip the porcelain sink and I inhale deeply, calming myself. Only then do I lift a hand and flick the lights on, lifting my head at the same time.
If you ever want to know the truth, the mirror won’t hesitate to give it to you.
Red-rimmed eyes with puffy lids gaze back at me.
Black mascara in tear-dried tracks adorn my cheeks.
My hair hangs in a tangled mess around my shoulders.
I’m a fucking sight. Turning on the cold water, I place my hands under the stream, splashing it on my face.
The cold water shocks my system, helping me finally accept what I’ve only been playing at accepting.
“I have to let them go,” I tell my reflection, hoping that by doing so, the words will finally sink in.
Because if I don’t do it now, I won’t. Josh will for sure find a damn way to weasel himself back into my life.
Picking up the hand towel, I dry off my face, taking a little extra time to make sure to wipe away all my makeup.
When I’m done, I head back to my bedroom and open the closet.
Sitting in the bottom is a crate filled with old shoes I haven’t worn in years.
Ones that I’ve been debating taking to Goodwill, but couldn’t part with them yet.
Picking it up, I dump out the contents onto the floor.
It has a new purpose now. It’s going to hold all the items of Hank’s still in my apartment. I need to make a clean break. Holding on to his belongings will only keep me in the past where there’s still a chance of there being an us.
I decide to start with the bedroom. Stepping over to the dirty laundry basket, I take out the only things still left in it.
An old pair of grey sweatpants and a shirt.
Picking them up, I hold them to my nose, and inhale, taking in his scent for the last time, then drop them in the crate.
On the dresser he has some knives and a bottle of cologne, and they join the clothes.
I open the drawer I cleaned out for him in my dresser, and take out the clothing inside of it. There’s a couple pairs of jeans, some shirts, socks, and boxer briefs. Another pain rips through me when I stare down at the empty wooden rectangular object.
The hoodie draped over the chair. The one I told myself I’d give back weeks ago. It still smells faintly like him, or maybe that’s just my memory filling in the blanks. I press it to my face for one dangerous second before forcing myself to fold it. It goes into the crate.
I leave the crate on my dresser and go back to the bathroom, collecting all of his toiletries.
Then I take the crate with me to the living room.
By the door are a pair of sliders he would wear when he went on the balcony.
He hated them when I bought them for him, swearing he’d never wear them.
That lasted about a day. Now he loves them.
Finally, the mug he claimed from my stash for his coffee.
There’s no way I could use it again and not think of him.
Taking one final walk through my apartment, I’m confident I’ve gotten everything. Even the teddy bear he gave me to remind me of him. I take the crate and set it by the door so I can take it to him at the bar tonight.
My apartment has never felt as lonely as it does right now. I drop down on the couch, shifting my body to the side as I pull my legs up and cover up with a throw blanket. Picking up the remote, I turn on the television to watch The Traitors. Anything to keep my mind occupied with something else.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table and I ignore it at first. Then it buzzes again.
And I know I can’t. It could be Ash or Arizona and I promised to not go radio silent on them again.
Leaning forward, I stretch my arm out, my fingertips barely grasping the edges of it and pick it up. My thumb hovers over the screen.
Messages are waiting. Opening the app, I see it’s a new chat that includes Josh, Luke, Hank, and me.
What the fuck.
Josh: Veronica. You’re not going to get out of talking to me.
Luke: To us.
Then my heart gets another crush.
Hank left the group chat.
My stomach twists in knots and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Maybe it’s for the best. He’s setting his boundaries and making it clear. We are over and he doesn’t want or need any further communication.
I drop the phone on the couch and pull the blanket up tighter to my chest. I try to tune out everything except the idiots on the show who are being strung along by a traitor.