Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
FYNN
"IT'S JUST COMING out." I wedge the phone between my shoulder and ear as I carefully remove the baking dish from the oven, carrying it to the island. I settle it onto the surface and assess my handywork. "It looks right."
"I'm sure it's absolutely perfect." My mother has complete faith in my ability to re-create one of my most beloved childhood dishes, though I'm not sure it’s well-founded. "You'll have to call me later and tell me what she thought of it." Her voice sounds a little weaker today than normal, and it has me worried she's overdoing it.
Again.
"I'll be sure to do that, if you promise to go rest."
By all accounts she's doing well, but she's in a position where the treatment can be just as dangerous as the illness itself, and while I understand her workaholic tendencies—I share them—I would prefer she do whatever it takes to ensure she remains earth side quite a bit longer .
And I'm not above playing dirty to ensure that happens.
"You should get as much rest as you can now, because once Valerie and I decide to have children, we plan on sending them to your house every day."
My mother's laugh is gleeful even if it is also a little hoarse. "Is this your way of trying to tell me something?"
"It's my way of trying to tell you that you need to get your rest because you have too much on your plate to allow yourself to get run down." I'm certainly not narrowing my threat down with a timeline. Not without discussing that timeline with my wife first.
Over the few weeks she’s been my wife, I've become rather fond of getting Valerie’s opinions and thoughts on things. And considering she would be the one doing the bulk of the work in that situation, her thoughts and feelings carry a significant amount more weight than my own.
"But you and Valerie have discussed children?" I don't miss the hope edging my mother's voice. I know she's longed to be a grandmother as much as she longed to have more children of her own.
"We plan to do everything within our power to one day give you a pack of screaming monsters to ruin all your things.” I make no promises, because they are impossible to make in this situation. I was old enough to remember my parents’ struggle and sadness when they were unable to conceive a sibling for me, so I have witnessed firsthand how difficult conceiving can be. Medicine has come a long way since then, but there are still limits .
"That's all you can do. Sometimes it's meant to be and sometimes it's simply not." Her voice wavers and she pauses to clear her throat before continuing. "What's meant to be, will be."
My eyes roam around my apartment, skimming over the handbag on the counter and set of pumps discarded just inside the door. "Very true."
When all of this madness began, I never would have expected where it would lead. That the slandering of my reputation, the loss of money and connections, the social ostracization would lead me to my match.
And Valerie is my match. She doesn't quite believe it yet, and I understand why. She spent a lifetime with people who never saw any of the goodness she brings and it left her focusing only on her own mistakes and shortcomings.
But those same mistakes are what brought her to my doorstep, so I would argue they might not qualify as mistakes at all.
After saying goodbye to my mother and once again reminding her to rest, I slide my phone onto the counter, leaning to take one more look at the dinner I've put together while my wife works in the home office we now share. Like me, she’s seen that my mother is trying to do too much, but instead of chastising her and luring her into better behavior with promises of grandchildren, Val simply takes the burden away, and shoulders it herself. I know she does it not only for my mother, but for me. And it’s one of so many reasons why I will never be mad that she may have omitted a few bits of information at the beginning of our relationship.
I'm wiping off my hands, intending to go collect Valerie so I can force her to take a break of her own, when there's a knock at my door. I sling the towel over one shoulder and move to the entryway. I peek through the hole to find my neighbor on my doorstep. After opening the door I lift a brow. "Did you just knock on my door?"
Gavin shrugs his huge shoulders. "Not a bachelor pad here anymore. Last thing I want to do is walk in on you and your wife engaging in a marital pastime in the middle of the living room floor."
I step back, motioning for him to come inside. "For the record, I would never participate in marital activities with my wife on the floor." I shut the door and follow behind him. "At the very least I prop her up on the counter."
Gavin pauses beside the kitchen island, looking at it before looking at me. "Is that your way of telling me I shouldn’t touch the counters?"
I round the island, going to the fridge to pull a couple bottles of beer free, passing one off to my friend. "I've seen the revolving door you installed on your apartment and I still sit on your sofa, so I don't think you have any room to judge."
Gavin takes the beer but doesn't drink. He drops onto one of the stools, dwarfing the seat as he leans both elbows onto the counter. "I think I somehow accidentally uninstalled that door a few months ago. "
He sounds oddly melancholy. As long as I've known him Gavin has been upbeat and easy-going. Laid-back and unbothered by just about everything. The man in front of me now looks... Fucking forlorn.
"What made you do something like that?" I never anticipated Gavin to be the kind to want to settle down. I'm sure it stems back to attachment issues founded in his childhood, but that's not my business. However, since he's parked his mournful self in my kitchen, the lack of extracurricular activity his dick has been participating in would appear to be my business.
He rakes one huge hand through his long, dark hair before scratching at the beard on his face. “I don't know what happened. It just came out of nowhere." He finally takes a sip of his beer before beginning to pick at the label. “Last night I was talking to this woman at a bar. She was beautiful and funny and ready to come home with me." He shakes his head, attention on the bottle in front of him. "But I couldn't do it."
I feel bad for him, genuinely I do. Especially since what I'm about to say next is likely going to cause him to have a full-on meltdown. "It sounds to me like you've grown tired of superficial connections and have reached a point in your life where you crave more."
Gavin's shaking his head before I’ve even finished. "That's not it." He finally looks up at me, as if pleading his case. "I'm not interested in anything permanent. I'm not the relationship type."
It's not easy for me to understand because I am—and have always been—the relationship type. But that's because I grew up wanting the kind of love my parents had. Chasing it. Trying to force every round peg of a relationship into a square hole, just like I did with Jessica. Luckily, I’d always known deep down things weren’t right, and saved myself from turning something wrong into something permanent. That's also why, when I did find something right, I didn't balk at making it permanent right out of the gate.
Were there things that happened with Val that some people would've seen as red flags? Yes.
Not me. I looked through Valerie's problematic shell the same way she looked through mine. I was able to see what was underneath all the bits that were forced upon her. I could see that she was the sort of woman who would enjoy my mother’s influence and involvement in my life instead of resenting it. That she was the type of woman who would find my work exciting and challenging instead of complaining over how much time it requires of me.
I also saw that, in spite of her sweet softness, Valerie possesses a backbone of steel and is fiercely defensive of the people she cares about. Which means I'll have to keep an eye on her if and when we have children. Make sure she doesn't try to assault anyone who attempts to bully our child.
Turning back to my neighbor, I sigh, feeling bad over the truth I have to offer. "Then I suppose you are on your way to a lifetime of celibacy. If you are no longer interested in meaningless hookups, and establishing a true connection with someone isn't any more appealing, you should probably get pretty comfortable taking matters into your own hands."
Gavin shoots me a scowl. “Real fucking funny.” He downs another few swallows of his beer. “You were supposed to tell me how to fix this shit.”
“I am, you just don’t want to listen.” I lean against the counter, giving him my most serious look, hoping he might actually listen. “You want something real, mate. Something more than just a warm and willing body.” I shrug. “Take it or leave it, but I can tell you it’s worth whatever it takes to get it.”
His brows lift. “Are you going to try to tell me what you and Val have is real?” He leans back in the seat, the chair creaking under his substantial weight. “Because I remember you telling me that whole thing was more of a business deal.”
I know he’s trying to bait me, but it won’t work. I know what Val and I have and he won’t make me question it. So instead of getting pissed like he wants, I shoot him a smile. “What can I say? I’m a hell of a businessman.”
I'm still grinning like the lovesick fool I am when Valerie comes out of the office. I turn to her, ready to show off my culinary handiwork, but stop short at the expression on her face. It's one I don't see often, and I've never had directed at me. "What's wrong, Darling?"
Her hands clench into fists at her sides as she glares my way, chin lifted high. "Why did you take a million dollars out of the bank the day after my father called me?"
All my smugness over the business prowess I claimed to have is gone in a flash, replaced by something akin to panic. "I take money out of the bank all the time." It’s a lie, but I need to buy myself some time. An opportunity to come up with an explanation for why I didn’t share the truth of what happened.
I was caught between a rock and a hard place. I didn’t want to keep the deal I made from Valerie, but I also didn't want my wife to feel as if I bought her. Or even worse, I didn’t want her to once again know she’d been used as a bargaining chip. And I certainly didn't want her to come anywhere near putting me in the same category as her father and ex-fiancé.
She shakes her head at me, chin quivering the tiniest bit as she calls out my lie. "No, you don't." She stands a little taller, and I'm so proud of her for facing me down like this. For calling me on my bullshit. "I looked."
"Welp. I'm going to head out." Gavin stands, looking less morose than he did when he first came in. He shoots me a wink as he moves to the door. "I'll leave you to handle your business, since you're so skilled at it."
It's a dig, and I’ll give him hell for later, but there's only one thing that matters. Only one thing I care about.
And right now she’s looking at me like I broke her bloody heart.
I hold Val’s glare as Gavin leaves, waiting until the door’s closed behind him before I lay out the truth of the matter. "I paid your father to go away, Val." I step toward her, hoping she won't back away, letting out a little of the air burning my chest when she doesn’t. "And I would do it a million times over to keep you safe. You are worth every penny."
Valerie's chin wobbles and her confidence waivers, sending her shoulders slumping. "I can't believe you did that." The words are soft, but the punch they carry hits me almost as hard as the look of defeat on her face.
I know she's held plenty of information back from me, but I also recognize this is different. That's why I held it back in the first place.
But I won’t take what I did back and I would do it a million times over. I will suffer her wrath, whatever it may be. As long as she's safe.
"You are my wife, Val." I say the words carefully, because I need her to remember them. "I will always do whatever it takes to protect you. Always." That is what makes me different from them.
Did I allow her to be used as a pawn? Yes.
Did I indulge in the greed of an awful man? Yes.
Did I put a price on her head? Again, yes.
But my motives weren't self-serving.
Weren’t only self-serving.
Valerie blinks hard a few times, eyes shimmering as she shakes her head. "I—" She sniffs. She's a heartbeat away from crying, and I'm not sure how either of us will handle that. She pulls in a deep, loud breath, lifting her face to the ceiling before squaring her shoulders. When her eyes come back to mine, the anger from earlier is back. And I let out a sigh of relief.
Anger, I can deal with.
"I need to go." She strides past me, grabbing her handbag from the counter and her shoes from the entry. She doesn't even take the time to put them on, just hooks them over her fingers before hurrying out into the hall, leaving me alone in my apartment.
I’d gotten used to it at some point, but the silence is more deafening than I remember. Probably because for weeks now it's been filled with the sweet sounds of my wife's voice and laughter. Now that it's gone, it's easy to see I wasn't nearly as lonely as I thought I was before.
Because this is real loneliness. Knowing the woman I love is choosing not to be at my side. All I can hope is that this round of loneliness won't be nearly as long as the one that came before. I don’t think I’ll survive it.
Raking one hand through my hair, I go to the island. I pick my mobile up and redial the last call I made, waiting for it to be answered before blurting out a guilty admission. "I believe you'll be seeing my wife shortly." I hang up before any questions can be asked. I've already faced my wife's wrath, I don't necessarily want to receive my mother's at the moment.
After sliding my phone back to the marble, I dig a fork from the drawer. Standing at the counter, I dig into the Lancashire hot pot I so painstakingly made, hoping to share one of my most beloved comfort foods with my wife. She may not be here, but I’m still glad I made it.
I have a feeling I'm going to be needing all the comfort I can get.