CHAPTER 20
Learning to Be Better
Josh
Josh turned around slowly. Afraid that if he moved too fast, she would disappear.
Helen stood up from the bench. She was crying. Not sobbing — just silent tears tracking down her cheeks.
"I'm so angry at you," she said.
"I know."
"I'm angry at you for lying. For pretending. For almost destroying everything my father built."
Josh nodded. "I know."
"And I'm angry at you," her voice broke, "for making me miss him."
She walked toward him. Stopped when she was close enough to touch.
"I don't forgive you yet," she said.
"I know."
"But I'm tired of being angry."
She reached out and took his hand. Her fingers were warm. Soft. Trembling slightly.
"Come inside," she said quietly. "Before you catch pneumonia. You're soaked."
Josh nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak.
She led him through the garden, past the fountain, past the bench. The rain was falling harder now. Neither of them hurried. Neither of them let go.
They walked through the back entrance of the hotel. Helen punched in a code, and the door clicked open. She led him to the elevator, pressed the button for the penthouse floor.
The elevator doors opened. Helen's penthouse was exactly as he remembered it. Warm. Personal.
"Go take a shower," she said, letting go of his hand. "You're freezing."
"I'm okay."
"You're not okay. You're blue. Go."
He went.
The bathroom was smaller than the one in his suite at the hotel. But it was clean and warm, and there were candles on the counter and a bottle of expensive shampoo that smelled like her.
He stood under the hot water for a long time. When he got out, there was a stack of clothes on the counter. Sweatpants. A t-shirt. A hoodie. All men's clothes, all new, tags still attached.
She'd bought these for him. She'd planned for him to be here.
He put the clothes on. They fit perfectly.
When he walked back into the living room, Helen was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, a cup of tea in her hands. She'd changed into dry clothes too. She looked up at him.
"The clothes fit," she said.
"You bought them for me."
"I guessed your size." A small smile. "Looks like I guessed right."
Josh sat down on the other end of the couch. Not too close. Not yet.
"Why?" he asked. "Why did you buy me clothes? Why did you let me in? Why are you being nice to me after everything I did?"
Helen set down her tea.
"Because I'm trying to understand," she said.
"The man I met in the garden — the one who said he appreciated beautiful things before they disappeared.
The one who stood in the ballroom and didn't tell me to sell the chandeliers.
The one who held my hand and said he wanted to build something instead of destroy it. "
She looked at him.
"Was that man real? Or was that just another lie?"
Josh held her gaze.
"He was real. He's the most real I've ever been."
"Then let's find out who he is together."
She held out her hand.
Josh took it.
And for the first time in twenty years, he didn't feel alone.