Chapter 18 Nova #2
“There’s no but. You are not a half, Nova.
You’re grieving and sad, and you’re right, this wasn’t fair.
None of it was. But it happened, and you have only two options right now.
You can keep fighting. Keep standing. Keep living, knowing you have a whole life ahead of you and a brother who would want you to live it. Even when it’s hard.”
I crush my eyes closed, fat tears squeezing through my lashes and onto my cheeks.
“Or you can lie down and give up.” He presses his lips to my forehead and bathes my skin with the warmth of his breath.
“I know the latter is tempting. When the world is heavy, and life is hard, when you’re all alone and the person you love the most is gone, I know giving up sounds like the easiest, comfiest option.
” Pulling back, he rests his forehead on mine.
“But I’m not ready to let you go, Nova. I’m not ready to give up on you yet. ”
My lungs spasm and ache. “Lincoln—”
“We are that serious.” He searches my eyes, his long fingers stretching around to the nape of my neck. “We’re not supposed to be. And fuck knows, your brother would light my ass on fire if he found out. But we’re here anyway, and I’m not ready to let you quit.”
“What if I don’t want to open the box?” My chest shudders with a deep, blinding anguish that hasn’t left since the day my life changed. “What if we take it home and I ignore it? Or if I give it back to the lawyers and don’t open it?”
“Then that’s what you do.”
His breath taps my lips, tickling until I slide my tongue out and touch where it prickles.
“If you don’t want to open it, then don’t,” he croons. “I support whatever choice you make.”
“But aren’t you curious?” I swipe fresh, hot tears from my cheeks. “I called you in here with the promise of a secret box, and now I’ll just walk away?”
His eyes dance with a mixture of affection and sadness. Hope. Despair. “If you want to ignore the box, then ignore it. If you wanna set it on fire, I’ll hand you the fucking match.”
“Really?” I rest my shaking hands on his sides. “Without even looking?”
“Without even looking. If it’s a stack of magazines, you’ll want to step back and cover your nose. Ya know, toxic vapors and printer ink.”
I cough out a cathartic, ridiculous laugh. “Gross.”
“If it’s a pile of rocks, they’ll still be there once the box burns, which will kind of ruin your big, dramatic, burn-the-box plans.”
“Well, actually… the burning was your plan. I said to give it back to the lawyers.”
“Do whatever makes you breathe easier.” He slides the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, his gaze flickering between mine. “If we never know what he left for you, then that’s the way it’ll go. You might be curious someday. You may not. But no matter what you decide, I support you, Nova.”
Even if he wants to know what’s inside?
Even if I know for a fact his curiosity burns?
Swallowing, I stare down at his lips and nod. “Alright.”
“Alright, what?” He inches back and searches my face. “Are we leaving?”
“Alright, we’ll look. Put me out of my misery. Then it’s basically the end of the workday.” Sniffling, I reach up and swipe my nose. “Do you wanna hang out? Keep me from curling into a ball and trying out that giving up thing?”
He strokes my jaw with his thumb. “We could go to my place. I can cook a meal and seduce you out of your Spanx.”
“Heathen.” I tearfully giggle. “You think I’m easy like that?”
“I think I’m fucked no matter how this goes down.” He leans closer and presses one last kiss to my lips. Pulling back, he releases my face and slides his hands along my arms. “You ready?”
I look at the box and stare down at the single, thin strip of tape holding it together. “Are you?”
“I’m ready to help you through.” His heart is a steady, heavy beat in the air. His selflessness, palpable. “But…” He exhales. “I think helping you means I should step out and allow you to look alone.”
“What?” I startle and swing my eyes up to his. “Really?”
“I think the right thing to do… the honorable thing would be to mind my business and not know what’s in the box.”
“But what if I want you to stay?” My heart pounds in my chest. Heavy, thunderous thuds that steal the air from my lungs and leave my knees trembling. “What if I don’t want you to leave?”
He drags his tongue over his lips, searching my eyes while a million thoughts race behind his. He’s conflicted. Worried. Sad. Solemn. His hands on my arms are supportive, but his suggestion to leave is akin to abandonment.
“Lincoln…?”
“I’ll be wherever you want me to be.” He shakes his head with jerky, barely there movements of his hardened jaw.
“If you need me here, holding you, then that’s what I’ll do.
Or standing in the fucking corner with my eyes to the wall, then that’s where I’ll be.
This is your show, Nova, and for the first time in a long time, I want you to be in control. ”
“Please don’t leave.” Tears itch the backs of my eyes and form a lump in my throat.
But this is me taking control. This is what I want.
I turn to the table, close enough to Linc that my shoulder still touches his chest. With trembling hands and a jaw that refuses to still, I pick at the tape and slowly peel it off the box until the top flaps pop open an inch. “You ready?”
“The anticipation is killing me,” he coughs out a chuckle. “Haven’t felt this nervous since a woman took her shirt off in front of me for the first time.”
I stab my elbow into his stomach, a desperate, weak snicker rolling along my throat as his breath escapes on a surprised gasp. “We don’t talk about that. I don’t want to hear about your past conquests.”
He rubs his belly, a teasing smirk curling his lips. “Just micro-dick Justin, then?”
“Exactly.” Tears settle on my lashes, irritating me until I swipe them away. “I swear to God, if he left me a box of rocks, I will riot. Full protest mode. You don’t know that version of me. The one who burns buildings and screams for justice.”
Stop procrastinating. Stop procrastinating. Stop procrastinating.
I close my eyes and hold my breath, then, tearing the box flaps open, I exhale again and find… “A letter?” I reach into the wildly oversized box and snatch out the single flat envelope lying against the bottom. “That was anticlimactic as hell.”
“This could have been an email,” Lincoln growls, massaging the back of my neck and digging his thumb into the tense muscle. “Why does everyone insist on a whole-ass meeting when it could’ve been an email?”
“Shush.” I turn the envelope over and break the seal. Pulling the single sheet of paper free, I swallow the sob desperately clawing along my throat. “I should sit down.”
“You definitely should sit down.” He guides me into my chair and crouches with his arms resting beside mine.
“You don’t have to read it out loud if you don’t want to.
” He drops his head, so I know he’s not looking at the words Ryan penned.
“I respect your privacy, Nova. I respect whatever you want from this point forward.”
Tears fill my eyes, a constant stream I lost control of almost exactly two weeks ago on the side of the road. Drawing a deep breath, I stretch my lungs until I feel the strain.
“Dear Nova,”
I exhale again, my voice breaking on those two words.
“If you’re reading this, then you’ve disobeyed a direct order.
You’re a massive pain in my ass and bring me stress, even in death.
God.” I slam the page onto the table and crush my palms against my eyes.
“I’m done. I can’t!” I shake my head. “He could have just said he loves me, and the secret combination to our trillion-dollar inheritance is one-two-three-four.” I draw a heaving, shuddering, chest-aching breath and scrub the tears from my face. “I don’t wanna keep reading.”
“You want me to put it back in the box?” Lincoln strokes my thigh with the side of his thumb. So gentle. So undemanding. “I’ve got the matches.”
“You read it.” I slide it across the table, my chest shuddering with emotion. “Read it out loud.”
“A-are you sure?” He places his hand over mine, but he doesn’t take Ry’s letter. He doesn’t turn it over or sneak a look. “Nova, are you sure—”
“Yes.” Sniffling, I tug my hand free and sit back to swipe my face. “Just get me through it. Then I want to leave and drink wine and put on a pair of Spanx.”
He coughs out a laugh that verges on painful desperation.
Then, drawing the paper closer, he scans the page for a moment before swallowing and dropping his chin in a subtle nod.
“Dear Nova, if you’re reading this, then you’ve disobeyed a direct order.
You’re a massive pain in my ass and bring me stress, even in death.
Why am I not surprised?” Lincoln pauses and brings his eyes up, his stare a warm prickling on the side of my face.
“I’m okay. Wherever I am, whatever is happening, and no matter if it hurt, I’m okay now. ”
It hurt. I cry, my chest heaving from its viciousness. It definitely hurt.
“You better not be dating a douchebag. I’ll know if you are, and if that’s the case, I’m coming down there to whoop your ass. Wait.” Lincoln’s tone changes. “That makes me the douchebag, right?”
“Yeah.” I slide my fingers through the hair at the back of his head and draw a shuddering breath. “You’re definitely the douchebag. What else does it say?”
He glances down again. “Do you remember that vacation house we used to go to when we were younger? The one on the river. I always loved going there, Nov. I especially loved it because it was always just the four of us. We made s’mores and threw rocks at each other.”
I snicker and swipe my eyes.
“We rode bikes by the trailhead, and stressed Mom and Dad out, because we never fucking listened, even when they told us what was right and what was safe. We never took our friends there. You didn’t get to bring boys, and I didn’t bring girls.
It was just for us. Safe and private and untouched by anyone who lacked an invitation. I miss that place…”
Lincoln pauses and brings his eyes up. “He did the three dots there. Like, I miss that place dot-dot-dot.”
“Okay.” I cough out a teary laugh and scratch the back of his head. “Thanks for that clarification.”
He chuckles.
“Sitting by the river at night and staring up at the stars was one of my favorite things to do. If I could, I would take you there right now. Pack your bags, Nova. Get in the truck and drive to the house by the river. I love you. I’ll be watching over you. Don’t do stupid shit.”
My jaw trembles, but I’m smiling, too. My brother is less subtle than a hammer to the face.
“That’s it,” Lincoln concludes, his voice thick and raspy. “It’s done.”
“Really?” I snatch the letter and turn it around. “It really says don’t do stupid shit?” I scan the page and pout when I get to the bottom. “Those were his last words for me?”
“Solid advice, really.” Amused, he grabs the box and turns it to the side, peeking into the dark interior. “He didn’t even leave you his rock collection. What a douchebag.”
“Such a jerk.” I shove up from my chair, fold the page and tuck it into the envelope it came in, then I circle toward the door and slip the letter inside my purse. “I’m ready to go, and I recall you offering to cook me a meal.”
“I did mention something along those lines, huh?” He straightens and pats his pockets, an old habit I’ve noticed in the short time I’ve known him.
Leaving the box behind, he wanders my way and opens the door.
“Can we order in, though? I know I mentioned cooking, but that was a lie. I need to buy groceries.”
I wipe my face and move into the hall, my brother’s last words nestled in my purse. Slowing at the reception desk, I wait for the bubbly Tegan’s eyes to come to mine. “We’re done here. Do I have to sign anything to confirm I took my items?”
“No, you’re fine.” She points toward the camera nestled against the ceiling. “Time stamps document everything we need. You’re good to leave.”
“Come on.” Lincoln drapes his arm over my shoulders and spins us toward the doors. “Then I think we should talk about the house on the river.”
Curious, I narrow my eyes and look up. “Why?”
“Because it sounds like you should go there. It’ll be good for your soul.”