Chapter Two
MEADOW
He’s perfectly wrong for me
~Meadow, journal entry
To the outside world, I knew my job was possibly the most tedious one ever. To me, though? I loved it. It wasn’t monotonous or tedious. No, I got to play with words, math, and science. And, somehow, fit them all together in a textbook so someone else could learn from it.
Okay, it did sound a little boring. But I couldn’t help it, it was what I was good at. Other people might get to work with their hands or bake things or create fiction with words and TV and whatnot. They used their bodies, they created.
I sort of made things. I took facts and known entities and blended them all together. And I edited others.
People in school needed those textbooks.
They required the information to learn. Some things you needed a teacher for, but others demanded a base.
So, yes, while it may sound lackluster to some, I helped people learn.
That way, they could go out into the world and be exactly who they needed to be.
Not that anybody really knew I was the one behind the work.
I wasn’t who came to mind when they thought about their classes.
I just wrote and edited the expensive thing they had to buy before they started school.
The book they occasionally opened if they wanted to actually learn in class.
I was the person who wrote all the words in that giant paperweight, the thing that sometimes got lost in the trunk of your car or at the bottom of your backpack because you forgot it was there.
I loved my job.
Even though my friends didn’t really understand it.
But that was fine with me. I could work in my own little bubble. I didn’t need to leave the house, and I could focus on what was important: helping others. And I somehow made a living while doing it.
It wasn’t always easy, though I was figuring it out. And I didn’t do it alone. There was always a handful of people who worked on this type of project, and we supported one another.
My job was to handle the middle ground. To take what someone wanted to write and make it work. And then edit it before it went to the next phase of editing, or the people went through all of the science problems and tried them out to make sure they actually worked.
I mostly helped with the grammar. And some of the science. My degrees were still useful, even though I didn’t leave the house much.
I wasn’t a complete agoraphobe, but some days, I sure felt like one.
Working from home had made it easier for me to make the friends I currently had, though.
Not that I had many, but I did have a couple of good ones now.
Violet was my neighbor. I think we initially met while I was taking out the trash. She had been all smiles, even though her eyes had been covered by dark sunglasses, and she kept rubbing her temples.
I found out later that she got terrible migraines.
So, over the months of us getting to know each other, I’d helped her get through them.
They were so debilitating, she needed someone to come over and make sure she took her meds and had enough water and food for when she felt better. I had quickly become that person.
She had an amazing family, and they were there for her, too, but I lived the closest.
Through Violet, I had met my other friends.
We’d lost one a bit ago now, even though it felt much more recent. I hadn’t known Alison well, but she’d been kind to me, and I missed her. I knew the others missed her even more. She had been such a huge part of their lives.
But Violet, Sienna, and Harmony were my friends now. And they forced me out of my comfort zone sometimes. And out of my house.
Something I honestly needed.
I wouldn’t have been able to do any of that before. Couldn’t have walked into a bar to smile and laugh and get to know people. I wouldn’t have been able to be around their men, large guys with even bigger personalities.
The Connolly brothers were all broad and tall and tattooed and bearded. Even the one that wore suits all the time, Brendon, tended to be a little bit ragged by the time he finished his day and ended up at the brewery with the rest of us.
It still surprised me that I could even see them and not shrink away in fear. Though, in retrospect, I’d probably cowered a bit when I first met them. But, thankfully, no one had commented on it.
Although there was one person that I should probably still keep away from.
And he had just kissed me a few nights ago.
Beckham.
What was wrong with me?
I couldn’t believe I had let him kiss me, that I had kissed him back. I shouldn’t have even danced with him that night.
It had been a horrible mistake. And I couldn’t let it happen again.
I knew exactly what happened when you gave in to your base desires, or when you leaned on someone and let them get close like that.
I rubbed my wrists and looked down, still seeing the bruises that were no longer there. They had faded a few years ago, and they would never be back.
No. I wouldn’t let myself be that vulnerable again.
Though the marks on my skin had faded, they were still on my soul and in my heart.
I could feel them beneath my flesh as if each ache from the blows had touched my very being.
The scars were still there, evidence of my mistakes, of the person I had been and who I’d trusted when I shouldn’t have.
I wouldn’t—couldn’t—let Beckham kiss me again.
Actually, I would do everything in my power to never be alone with him again.
I’d already made one mistake.
I didn’t know if I could afford another.
I pushed those thoughts from my mind and went back to work.
I had a few more hours of data to look over, and then I could spend my afternoon doing whatever I wanted.
Reading, doing some Google searches. Maybe I’d take a walk.
Although I didn’t really know if I wanted to do that enough to leave the house.
The four walls and roof that surrounded me seemed like my only salvation some days.
I could remember when the wind had blown in my hair.
When I smiled, and it was as if nothing was wrong in the world.
It didn’t matter that everything would eventually come crashing down around me, or that my soul would become tainted by the decisions I made—or those made for me by people who said they cared about me.
But I didn’t need the breeze in my hair anymore. I didn’t need the sun on my face. I only needed these walls. They were my safe space, the things protecting me.
I couldn’t afford to risk anything else.
I sighed, once again pushing those thoughts away as I went back to work.
I had just closed my laptop and was stretching my back when the doorbell rang.
I froze, tension crawling up my spine and making my stomach turn sour. I tried not to let my pulse race, but I couldn’t help it.
It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be them.
It had to be someone else. Maybe it was the UPS driver.
Yes. That was it. It must be a delivery.
I looked down at my phone, bringing up the doorbell video app I had, and let out a sigh of relief.
It wasn’t my past at my door.
It was Violet and the girls.
I could deal with them. They were good for me.
A visit from my friends wouldn’t hurt.
At least, I hoped not.
I quickly ran my damp palms down the legs of my jeans before patting my cheeks, hoping they weren’t too pale or too red. I needed to look normal.
Normal people didn’t stress out or try to flee at the idea of someone being at their door.
They didn’t want to vomit at the thought of not knowing who could be visiting.
I was fine. Everything would be fine.
My hands shook as I unlocked the deadbolt and then the second deadbolt, and then the handle lock itself.
When I opened the door, the girls each smiled at me. Sienna held cupcakes. Harmony had a bottle of sparkling juice. And Violet held out a charcuterie board.
I snorted, shaking my head.
“Ah, I see you’ve come prepared,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound as if I’d just had a minor heart attack.
They couldn’t know. They couldn’t find out who I had been in my past, the choices I’d made. I didn’t want them to know why I screamed myself awake every night.
All they needed to know was that I was Meadow. I was normal. Safe.
As far as they were concerned, I didn’t have a past—at least not one worth mentioning.
I took a step back, raising my brows as the girls walked in, chattering to one another even as they said hello.
“Well, we wanted to bring in a bit of a party before we forced you out of the house.”
I closed the door behind me, doing my best to act nonchalant as I locked both deadbolts and the regular lock.
The girls didn’t even notice. They had been here a couple of times before and were likely used to my antics. For all they knew, I was a single woman alone who wanted the extra security.
I pressed the keypad to make sure the security system was armed and then turned back to the others, a smile on my face. I hoped it reached my eyes.
“You guys didn’t call or anything. A little weird. And shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon now, Harmony?” I asked.
Harmony shook her head, tossing her gorgeous hair behind her shoulder. “Not for a bit. It’s been three days since the wedding. I’m allowed to get out for some oxygen.” Her cheeks turned red, and I shook my head, smiling as Sienna and Violet laughed.
“I’m surprised you can even walk,” Sienna said. “I mean, with the way Brendon was all over you at the wedding? Yeah. Are you sure you haven’t just escaped from being locked in the basement or something?”
I froze, the smile still on my face but no longer authentic. I was grateful that the others weren’t looking at me.
I wasn’t going to think about that night. Or any night from before. I was fine. Just fine.
“I’m allowed to leave. Brendon’s at the bar with the guys, and I wanted to see my girls. So I showed up with cupcakes because I wanted to bake.”
“And after Aiden stole one and said that they were ‘okay, even though you aren’t a chef,’ we brought them over,” Sienna said, laughing.