Chapter 19 #2
“Well… I’ll use the money to support my art.
Obviously. I’ll find a real studio at some point.
Maybe travel around, see some places I’ve had on my list forever for inspiration.
Baja California, I’ve always wanted to go there.
Maybe figure something out to help my dad that won’t just be drinking money.
” I wrinkle my nose. Helping him depends on whether he still has it in him to be a decent human being. “No guarantees there.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Some place to dry him out, you think?”
“If he’s willing. Rehab, therapy, whatever direction he’d like to go. But he has to want to get sober first. That’s the hard part.”
“Worth a try. You can’t give up on family, especially while he’s still got time.” His words are encouraging.
But his face darkens in the shadows. His jaw tenses, just for a split second, and he glances away.
The chasm in my stomach widens. That heavy dread deepens, like everything is slowly sinking into a bottomless hole and I’m powerless to stop it.
“What?” I ask. “What did I say?”
“Nothing at all,” he says blankly.
“Yeah, right. You’re upset.”
“It is nothing, Clee. No lie.” There’s an edge in his voice that feels cold. “It’s your choice. Your life. Your career. I don’t get a say.”
He won’t lay it out there. I sigh.
“Okay, fine. While we’re talking, what will you do with the money you get from all this? You must have a plan. You don’t wing anything.”
“Me? Nothing I haven’t told you before.” He blows out a breath, but he doesn’t relax. “Kit and my parents come first. Pay their bills, save some cash for the care they’ll need when they’re older. Then Kit’s college fund.”
I knew most of that already, but I nod, playing along.
This is good. Talking about the future, new dreams, the things we have in common.
We both want to save our small, imperfect families.
“But what about you-you?” I whisper, caressing his cheek.
He smiles.
“Don’t give a damn what happens to me as long as my little girl has her best shot in life,” he says, more animated now, the way he always gets with Kit on his mind.
“With you as her father, she will,” I whisper. “But there must be something. Come on, be selfish for a second.”
Another long pause.
I wonder how much thought he’s ever given to what he wants.
“I’ll probably take a step back from the private security game. I’d like to get into consulting,” he says.
“Consulting. Cool.”
“Surprised?”
“I thought you’d… I don’t know.” I laugh. I’m not even sure how much money he’s getting from this, but Gramps was generous. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever give up the bodyguard stuff. Unless you just retire.”
“Fuck that,” he says sharply. “I’m pushing forty, not seventy. Far too early to jerk off on pretty beaches or take my checks to Vegas casinos to die.”
I giggle. “Oh, come on. There are a million more things you can do in retirement than crank the hog.”
He snorts and shakes his head.
“If I get there, I’ll figure it out,” he says gruffly.
“You don’t think you can? Even after this?”
He hesitates.
“Depends. This old house keeps me paying out the ass for repairs sometimes. And moving out of Maine… No, I can’t imagine it.
Certainly not before Kit’s grown and off to college.
” He waves a hand. “Then I’ve got to think about whether I’ll hang around if she leaves Portland.
Wouldn’t mind more time somewhere warmer, but I’m a Maine boy at heart, born and raised. ”
I smile. It’s weird thinking about Kit grown up and thrown into the same scene I was in just a couple years ago. Where will she be in eight years?
Who will she be?
Then I wonder where I’ll be, too.
I’ll be in my thirties. It seems so far away, like I’ll magically transform into a real grown-up then, instead of some girl who’s just pretending to have her shit together.
Some girl who won’t have unprofessional relationships with older men who can’t possibly keep my heart intact.
“Is that what you want? A change of pace?” I ask softly, moving to safer ground. I take his hand and his fingers curl around mine. “To strike out on your own with the consulting work?”
“It’s an option.” His voice is firm, guarded.
I remember the way he limped inside after chasing after those men, his knee torn up. The fury in his voice at failing to catch them.
I put my hand on his thigh. “You’re worried about your knees.”
“No need to remind me,” he growls.
“But it’s true, right?”
“True enough,” he admits. “Shit gets worse every year. Hereditary problems.”
There’s pain in those words, knowing he’s stuck with a destiny he can’t control. The worst fate for a man who’s used to being in control.
I pause, waiting for him to give me his full truth.
That’s not the end of it, I know.
“I’ve talked about this before. No point in dwelling on it,” he grumbles.
“And we can talk about it again. Sorry, I just like to know what you’re thinking.”
He huffs. “Fine. I can’t do my old job much longer.
I’m keeping up today, barely, but in a few more years?
Fuck, I can’t protect the people I care about, Clee.
If I can’t keep clients safe, I can’t keep earning money that way.
And if I can’t, if I ever have the slightest doubt, I won’t put them in danger. ”
I watch the dark flicker in his face.
“Hey, I know that. Don’t stress. You can’t beat yourself up. You’re still strong and spry. Whatever happens isn’t your fault,” I whisper.
“That’s why I have to look after them without relying on just my body. I have experience, yeah, so I can figure it out. With the payout from your granddad, I can build my own business. I can keep going and provide.”
“For your family.”
“Exactly. Taking care of my people and living the quiet life. That’s the dream.” His eyes shine. “Hell, someday when you’re rich and famous, I’ll bring Kit around to your shows in New York or LA. She’ll love bragging about how she knew you before you got big.”
It’s a joke, I know, but it feels so bittersweet.
My fault, I suppose.
I brought this on by urging him to live in the moment, and I know what he’s doing.
In his own gruff stony-hearted way, he’s telling me we’re too different. He’s telling me that when the time comes, it’s okay to let go.
A sensible decision from a man who’s wall-to-wall sense.
Fantastic sex aside, we’re still complete opposites. Different ages, different lives, different passions.
I want travel. Adventure. Grinding through a career that can get stupidly messy.
Holden, he wants his quiet. Peace dollars rather than fame to support the people he loves.
Kit will be off to college and he’ll be established in a new field. In eight years, I won’t even be the age Holden is now.
My heart stings.
And my eyes burn as I lean over him, draping my body across his.
“She’ll tell her friends she still knows me. She’ll brag,” I say firmly, my voice thick. “If you think I’m walking out on you guys and ghosting after all this, think again.”
He smiles, refusing to read deeper into those loaded words.
The palm of his hand flattens against the small of my back as he kisses me ferociously. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to.
The seeds are planted.
Whatever I want, whatever I think might be worth exploring, he doesn’t feel the same way.
The irrational, dreamy part of me that’s open to an impossible love rages.
I hate that he’s given up so easily when I’m asking him without asking to just keep an open mind.
But he doesn’t see a future.
He just sees a happy now we keep slipping into. A fling with a young woman who could change her mind tomorrow.
And how could I ever blame him?
He has a kid. He has aging parents.
In the end, Holden’s resistance to wild fantasies is just the bitter truth.
We’re living two different seasons. A decade-plus age gap might not be a problem in twenty years, in ten, but right now, it’s the void between stars.
I close my eyes, turning away and hiding the disappointment as I rest my face on his chest.
My hands are shaking, so I press them against his cheeks, holding him close.
“Cleo,” he whispers.
“I mean it. You can hate me all you want, I’m not going anywhere,” I say, but the conviction fades from my voice.
“I could never hate you.”
Ugh! Why isn’t that enough?
Because I want stupid, pretty promises.
Like somehow, we’ll agree to just try after the egg is gone. Somehow, we can be a happy family and this little bubble we’re living in can float us off to dreamland.
I want to promise him a future I’m not sure of.
I want to promise if he never gives up on me, I’ll prove him wrong about what’s possible.
But I don’t dare say more. I’m not sure what’s true anymore.
Even with Holden right here, tucked safely in his arms, it feels like he’s drifting away.
His hand skims down my side until he finds my hip.
I tilt my head up and kiss him hard, biting his bottom lip, digging my nails into his skin with a desperation that scares me.
Please don’t treat me like I’m fragile, I plead silently. Don’t think I’m so breakable.
But the truth is I am.
He’s older and wiser and I’m young and stupid.
And if I’m not careful, I’ll walk away in pieces.
I might leave so wrecked I break my own promise to stay friends with Kit because I won’t be able to lay eyes on Holden Verity and his ugly doubts again.