Chapter 42
42
OPHELIA
M y body lands on my couch with a wumph and I scrub my face with my hands. I’d just gotten home from work and was going to change to head to the bar for a few hours to check in. I’d hired a bartender in his absence and between the new guy and Alice, they were handling the place well enough at this point without me. I know my friends wonder how I managed to work both my day job and keep Butcher and Block afloat, and honestly I’m starting to wonder the same thing. Having essentially two full time jobs is a lot and the level of exhaustion I feel is more and more apparent the longer I sit on the couch.
As if on cue, the ring that’s pressed into my skin under my work blouse starts to warm, reminding me of why I’m doing this in the first place.
Not a why but a who . And not just one who, but two.
My fingers reach between the top few buttons of my shirt and pull the ring out, turning it over and spinning it on the chain. I may not have known him as long or as well as Malcolm, but there was something about Marshall that made me fiercely loyal to him. Maybe it was how much he impacted Malcolm or maybe it was how clearly he saw me. He knew that I loved Malcolm before I knew it myself. He also seemed to know that Malcolm would struggle, that he would need me, and he made me promise to watch out for him. And that’s what I’m doing, in whatever way I can. Looking after the bar is like looking after Malcolm, and while I might be ready to pass the hell out at six o’clock, I’m still going to head in that direction to check on things anyway.
I’ve just mustered up enough energy to stand from the couch and I’m halfway to my bedroom to change when a knock comes from my front door. My head drops behind me and I groan, too tired to deal with people. I had planned on hiding in the office to do some work when I got to the bar to avoid having to talk to anyone else, so the stranger at the door is an uninvited annoyance. Before opening it, I push out a sharp breath, ready to be polite and cordial to whoever it is. When I open the door though, I feel my face fall and every muscle in my body freeze.
He’s standing outside my door wearing a pair of loosely fitted black jeans and an oversized T-shirt. His hair is damp as if he’s just washed it, and with it tied up his sharp cheekbones on full display. The tattoos that dance around his neck can easily be seen as well as the ones that traipse his arms. When he sees me, he stands up a little taller and pulls his shoulders back. His eyes lower to my chest and he stares for a moment before lifting them back to mine.
“I see you still have it.” When his eyes flit down again, I follow his glance and realize he’s not looking at my chest, he’s looking at Marshall’s ring which is openly hanging from my neck. I hadn’t tucked it away before opening the door and it had caught his attention. My hand absentmindedly wraps around the silver band and gives it a squeeze.
“I see you’re back.” I chew on the inside of my lip and close the door halfway, leaning into my arm that’s holding it open.
“Yeah,” he sighs awkwardly. “The guys picked me up earlier this afternoon.”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t heard anything from you.” His head falls forward and I know my words land squarely in his chest. I suck in a quick breath.
“How…how are you?” I ask. He looks better, brighter. But I thought he looked better once before and it turns out he was just doped up on drugs and putting on a good show.
“Thinking clearer. I definitely have more work to do, but I’m working on it.”
“How?”
His eyebrows furrowed in the center of his forehead. “ How ?”
“Yes, how. How are you working on it?”
He rubs the back of his neck and looks around me into my condo. “Can I come in?” I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should, but then open the door and wave my arm for him to enter.
“You can sit down, you know?” I offer slowly, unsure of what his next move will be. The air between us is thick and uncomfortable. I missed him like crazy while he was gone, but now that he’s standing right in front of me, it’s like I’m not sure if I want to grab his face and kiss him or run and hide under my covers until he leaves.
Instead of sitting on my couch, he opts to sit in one of the chairs at my dinette set that I used to share a morning coffee over with Bailey. I haven’t sat at the table for weeks, choosing to rot on my couch and eat there instead, but I sink into the chair across from him. When we’re both seated, I clear my throat and glance around, wishing with everything in me that this awkwardness between us would just disappear.
“Ophelia—”
“Malcolm—”
We both speak at the same time and let out uncomfortable laughs when we speak over one another.
“You go,” I say, nodding at him and he nods back with a tight smile.
“You asked me how I’m working on it. On things. On me,” he tumbles through his words. “Well for starters, I’m going to N.A. meetings three times a week and checking in with my sponsor daily, per his demands. The guy is a fucking drill sergeant compared to my last one.” I smile at the mention of his new sponsor, knowing good and well what Reese has planned for him. “I’m also continuing with out-patient therapy at the rehab center. I really connected with one of the therapists there and he offered to keep seeing me. Mondays are my new head-shrinking days.” He chuckles and I can’t help but smile a little wider.
“I’m also hiring a second manager for Butcher and Block. I can’t run it on my own and I realized while I was gone that I was trying to do something Marshall wasn’t even doing himself. I had convinced myself that he could run the place all on his own but forgot to account for the fact that I did a lot of his work for him. So, once I go back to work next week, I’ll be looking to hire a second pair of hands.”
“I think you should consider Alice. She’s been amazing the last few weeks and I think she would really enjoy the work. You’d have to hire a bartender but that might be easier than finding a manager.”
His chin drops as he looks at me with a knowing smirk. “And how would you know that?”
“Someone had to make sure the place didn’t go up in flames while you were gone.” I shrug, trying to dampen the true reason I looked after the bar. I avoid his gaze and flit my eyes around the room before succumbing to my need to look at him. When I finally bring my eyes to him, he’s leaning over the table and smirking at me.
“You took care of the bar for me?” he questions, his voice tipping up at the end.
“It didn’t mean anything,” I huff, rolling my eyes into the back of my head. Liar.
“Are you sure about that, princess?” A tingle runs across my skin as he hums out the nickname I used to hate. My eyes turn into slits as I glare at him from my seat.
“I’ll have you know, I did it for Marshall. He asked me to watch out for you and I didn’t want to let him down.” His body deflates just enough for me to see when I mention Marshall’s name but I continue anyway. “Besides, there’s good people who work there. If no one stepped up, they all would have been out of a job.” I try to justify to him. He’s nodding his head, annoyingly I might add, and I want to reach across the table and wipe his stupid smile off his face. Or kiss it. Or both.
Definitely both.
“I appreciate you doing that for us. I appreciate all the things you do.”
My arms are still crossed over my chest like a protective wall and when I wrap them tighter around me, I feel Marshall’s ring get warmer against my chest. Almost as if he can feel it too, Malcolm points to it.
“Can I see that for a second?”
“Of course, it’s your ring. You said you’d come back for it. You’re back, it makes sense that you’re here for it.” I undo the simple chain I’d worn the ring on and slip it off before handing it over to him. My heart quickens when our fingers brush over the top of the table and I snap my hand away from him, quickly putting up my defenses again.
He turns the ring over and seems to be studying it but I’m not sure why. Then, he spots something and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen him crack explodes across his face. Tears well up in his eyes—another first—as he spins the ring in a circle between his fingers.
“That son of a bitch,” he murmurs before looking at me through misty eyes. Sensing my confusion, he stands from his chair and comes to kneel next to me. Holding the ring at an angle, he reveals an inscription on the inside of the metal band.
Always in your corner.
“It’s something he always said to me as a way to remind me that I wasn’t alone. It was kind of our way of saying ‘I love you’ to each other.”
“He must have known you’d need the reminder,” I offer as tears threaten to run down my cheeks. “You’re not alone, Malcolm. Not ever. You have your friends, and everyone at the bar.”
“And what about you? Do I have you too?” He’s on one knee beside me as I sit in the chair at the table. I blink away the tears and turn to face him. He rests a hand on my thigh and I try to take a deep, steadying breath.
“Yeah, you have me too.” My fingers can’t be stopped any longer and I bring a hand to his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into my palm.
“I love you, Ophelia. I will never be able to apologize enough for what I did; just like I’ll never be able to tell you how much I love you.”
“I want to love you too.” My voice cracks. “But I need to know you’re not going to slip away again. I’ve loved a man who hurt me before and I won’t do it again. I can’t.” He reaches up and swipes his thumb across my cheek, drying the tears that are now freely falling.
“And I wouldn’t ever ask you to,” he whispers. Holding the ring in front of my face again, he straightens his spine and clears his throat. “I think this belongs to you.”
I wipe my cheeks with both hands and shake my head at him. “What are you talking about? Marshall left that to you.”
“And I told you before I left that I didn’t want it back until you thought I could be the man you needed me to be. Do you think I’m that man right now?”
I feel my face screw up as I try to figure out what he means. Unsure of what to say, I simply shake my head at him.
“Then I don’t want it back. Not until you know for certain that I can be the type of man you can love. And until that day, I’ll work my ass off to prove to you that I’ll do whatever it takes to be him. To be that man.”
“And what if I never give it back?”
“Then I’ll work everyday for the rest of my life to prove to you that I’m worthy of it.” He grabs one of my hands and kisses the back of it. “Because you are worth the work, Ophelia. And I’ll do whatever it takes to show you how much I mean that. To show you how much I love you.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” I cry, leaning over my lap and wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I hope you do.”