Losing Love (What Will Be Book Series)

by Laura Ashley Gallagher

  “Alex,” I shout, surprised I have words. I push against him, granting us both some space, and my head falls between my shoulders.

  I watch as tears drop from my eyes and splash at my feet.

  His palms go back to either side of my head, and gently, he moves my face until I’m looking up at him. He’s softer now, and behind the coldness flickers a brief moment of warmth. He steps closer, and his body presses against mine. His fingers move the wild strands of hair away from my face. I shut my eyes as I feel his thumb move from my hair to wipe my tears from my cheeks.

  “Tell me to leave, Mandy. Tell me you don’t want this, and I will walk out the door right now.”

  It isn’t fair, and he knows it. He knows I can’t tell him to leave because I need him as much as he needs me right now.

  With my eyes still closed, I shake my head, knowing I can’t stand to watch him walk away again.

  And then his hands are everywhere. All over my body, moving so fast and feverishly, I don’t know which parts are burning from his touch. His mouth feels like it is kissing every inch of visible skin.

  Before I catch another breath, we are moving again into my bedroom. Our clothes are quickly discarded and thrown aside, removing the only barrier between us.

  And when I stand there naked, he steps back, his eyes wildly wandering over my body. He can look. Any shyness I once felt left when he walked through my door. I have nothing to hide anymore. There are no more secrets.

  But I know it’s already too late. The damage is done.

  When he lays me on the bed with his hand behind my head, he does so gently, and with a total contrast to the look in his eyes.

  He stills over me, granting himself a moment to look, and the growl that comes from the back of his throat is tainted with regret and mistakes we both wish were never made.

  This isn’t the way we were. This is pain and confusion. One of us is begging for forgiveness. The other is fighting to accept what he can’t.

  I see it. He’s fighting to forgive me while fighting to let go. He’s fighting to love me.

  And when at first, he moves slowly, my hips motion with his, and like a switch, there he is.

  My Alex.

  The warmth, heat, and passion come pouring out of him with every kiss he places on my skin, over my lips, across my breasts, and down my body. He nips, sucks, teases, and brands every inch of me until I buck against him.

  But somewhere along the way, I lose him, and he loses in the fight to forgive me.

  He laces his fingers in mine, raises my hand above my head, and holds me there while he tucks his other hand under my knee, raising it higher, angling himself deeper and my leg wraps around his bicep. His hips push faster, harder, relentless, and unforgiving until my back arches beneath him.

  “Alex,” I cry out in a tortured gasp, and I’m unsure how much longer my body can hold on.

  He releases his grip on my leg, lifting his head to look down at me, and the moment our eyes lock, I know neither of us can take any more. My body quivers violently as his shoulders tense. His muscles are taut and like stone.

  “Fuck. Mandy,” he groans against my lips.

  And as our bodies tense together, my fingers digging into the muscles of his back, I realize something.

  This isn’t mending.

  This isn’t about fixing fractured pieces of each other.

  This isn’t love.

  This is the end.

  This is goodbye.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I’m staring at my phone on Monday morning when it buzzes in my hand. I take a second to realize it’s ringing because my body is numb. Alex left last night without a word, and as I laid on the bed, in the same position he left me in, I could feel his body on mine long after he was gone. When I heard the front door slam shut, something inside me froze over so much it shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, each of them sharp shards slicing through me from the inside out. I’m not sure if I was grasping at tiny rays of hope before last night, but they’re not there anymore. I’m reaching out and coming back empty.

  Alex is gone. And he made sure I knew it last night.

  I can’t remember what it felt like to have him inside me when he loved me because last night was so powerful, and very little of what he gave me was love.

  I called in sick to work because I hadn’t slept, and my eyes are wandering around in search of something that isn’t there.

  My attention averts back to the vibrating annoyance in my hand. I sigh and push away the uneaten toast on the table.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, is this Mandy Parker?” a female voice that is far too cheerful chimes.

  I roll my eyes because if this is a telemarketer, I could do with the place to vent my anger.

  “Yes,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “I am calling on behalf of solicitor Ryan Hanley. He would like to know if you can make an appointment to come and see him?”

  Why the hell is a solicitor calling me?

  “For what reason?”

  “Mr. Hanley is the family solicitor acting on behalf of Alex Hale.”

  My mouth goes dry, and I can hear my breathing escape in heavy pants.

  “Okay,” I trail off because that tells me nothing.

  “Can you come in today and Mr. Hanley will go over all the details with you?”

  My mind races, but I come up empty. “Sure,” I say when all other words fail me. I’m pretty sure this lady won’t be able to share much with me anyway.

  “How does 2 p.m. sound?”

  That’s four hours away. I’m going to go out of my mind.

  “Have you got anything earlier?” I ask.

  “Mr. Hale said he can come in at 11 a.m. or 2 p.m.”

  Alex is going to be there. Now I think I’m having a panic attack.

  “Miss Parker, are you okay?”

  I shake my head and take a gulp from my glass of water. My hands are shaking.

  “I can be there for eleven.”

  She makes the appointment and hangs up. Saliva pools in my mouth and bile rises to my throat.

  “Shit,” I groan, dashing to the bathroom to stick my head in the toilet. When I’ve stopped heaving, I pat my clammy forehead, switch on the shower, and undress. The hot water does little to relax my tense muscles, and my back is so tight I think it might spasm.

  I hate not knowing what’s going on, and I thought I would have more time to process last night before running into Alex again. I assumed he would pass the dropping off of Ava over the next few weeks to his father or brother.

  I dress quickly into a pinstripe wrap dress, black tights, and boots. My hair dries into its natural waves as I apply my makeup. Not too much because I’m going to sweat it off. I can’t calm my pulse, and now I’m pacing in the kitchen. I’ve never dressed so fast.

  I search for the address of the solicitor’s office, slip my arms into my coat, and grab my bag before rushing to the car. I’ll be early but I can’t handle staying in the house any longer.

  My phone rings over the Bluetooth speaker of the car, and the caller ID shows me it’s Garry.

  “Hey,” I answer with a shaky breath.

  “Everything okay? I noticed there’s a substitute in your class today.”

  “Shit. I don’t know Garry. I’ll tell you why I’m not in. I promise. I just don’t have the time right now. I’m on my way to meet Alex at a solicitor’s office.”

  I say it because he might be my friend, but he’s also Alex’s, and I hold on to small hope he might know something.

  “What?” he blurts.

  Well, that theory goes up in smoke. I should know better. Garry would never keep something from me.

  “I’m as clueless as you are. I got the call thirty minutes ago.”

  “Sorry you’re going through this. Let me know how it goes,” he finishes before we say goodbye.

  I don’t remember the drive to the swanky offices on Main Street. I don’t remember parking the
car, and how I got to the fourth floor. But I’m here now, standing in front of a glass panel desk with my clammy palms. I wipe them along my coat and look for somewhere I can get water. Don’t these places always have water dispensers?

  “Can I help you?” A young woman with jet black hair sleeked back in a bun moves her eyes away from her computer screen.

  “Give me a sec.” I wave my hand at her when my eyes see the water. I fill a plastic cup and gulp it back. I go back to her, fidgeting with the business cards on the counter. I fix them. “Mandy Parker,” I tell her and try my best at a smile, but I look like a need to vomit because I do.

  “You’re early.” I think she is about to tell me to take a seat, but she doesn’t. Instead, she says, “They’re in there now. I will bring you in.”

  They are in there.

  Sweet baby Jesus, I am going to die.

  I slip off my coat, throw it over my arm, and smooth down the imaginary wrinkles on my dress. The young woman smiles at me sympathetically, and I regret not asking her what this is about because she looks like she knows.

  She opens the large door and into a spacious office. Everything is mahogany and brown leather, and Alex.

  Not any Alex.

  It’s Alex in a suit.

  And my body is having a reaction to him I don’t want to have because even when I walk on the plush carpet of the office, he doesn’t turn to look at me.

  “Mandy.” The tall man gets up from his desk to greet me. Dark hair greying at the temples, and a broad smile. “Ryan Hanley. It’s nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand and I take it.

  “Mandy Parker,” I stutter. I’m an idiot. He already knows my name. “Nice to meet you too.”

  “Please, take a seat.” He gestures to the brown leather chair in front of his desk.

  To my surprise, Alex pulls it out from the desk so I can sit, and I hate when my stomach does a somersault. He sits in the chair next to me.

  My gaze darts between the two men. Ryan is tossing through papers on his desk, and Alex is lost in thought somewhere.

  Hello, I am dying here.

  I can’t help it when I open my mouth and blurt, “Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

  Ryan’s head bobs up from his papers, and his brows narrow almost painfully. He looks at Alex and back at me again. He appears confused, like I should already know the answer to my question. He shakes off his expression and plasters a smile on his mouth.

  “Apologies Mandy. I’ll get started.” He finds the sheets he is looking for. “You are here today because Lydia Hale mentioned you in her will.”

  My mouth gapes open, and I gasp, making my already dry tongue feel like sandpaper.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I will just read what I have here.”

  Poor guy looks awkward as hell. I’m obviously not the only one who can feel the tension between me and Alex.

  He pushes his glasses onto the bridge of his nose and begins, “I, Lydia Hale, grant full guardianship of my daughter, Ava Hale, to my brother Alex Hale.”

  No surprise. She told me this.

  Ryan looks up at me again and his eyes go all soft. “Mandy, Lydia put a clause in her will.” He goes back to the piece of paper. “Should my brother agree and grant permission to the following terms, I wish for Mandy Parker, birth mother of my daughter, to share guardianship with my brother.” He arches an eyebrow with a grin when his eyes meet mine again. “Mr. Hale has agreed to these terms.”

  The world has begun to move in slow motion, and the rest of what Ryan says goes by in a blur. Moisture stings at my eyes, and it’s only when I’m finding it difficult to catch my breath, I realize I’m sobbing with my hand pressed against my mouth.

  Every emotion I’ve felt for over seven years comes pouring out of me and fills the entire office. The emptiness I’m harbouring, the regrets that have nested themselves in my brain, and the longing that has occupied my heart, collide together and explode out of my body with every sob and shudder of my shoulders. But most of all, waves of relief and joy wash over me in their place.

  “Miss Parker.” Ryan pulls my attention back to him and I wipe at my wet face. “There are some legal documents I will need you to sign. Mr. Hale has already signed what he needs to.”

  I nod because if he said I had to walk through fire at this second, I would do it.

  “Ryan, can you give us a minute?” It’s the first time I’ve heard Alex speak.

  “Of course.” Ryan gathers his papers, filing them away in his large folder, and leaves the office.

  When we’re alone, Alex reaches over for a box of tissues and offers them to me. I pull at the paper and wipe the mascara-soaked tears from my cheeks.

  “Thank you,” I whisper through a broken voice.

  He leans back, throwing his ankle across his other thigh. He looks relaxed, but his posture tells me a different story, and when he runs a finger roughly across his chin, I know he’s trying to keep it together long enough so he doesn’t explode. And I can’t tell which emotion will win in his battle. His walls are up, and I’m shut out by impenetrable barriers.

  “Do you have to go back to work?” he asks gruffly.

  I shake my head. I’m too embarrassed to admit I took the day off because of last night.

  “We need to talk through some things.” I can feel his eyes burning through the side of my face. “About Ava,” he quickly corrects because God forbid, I would grasp on to one shred of hope for us. “Can you come to my house after we leave?”

  I meet his gaze now because I’m shocked he has asked. I’m petrified of walking through the doors of his beach house and what emotions it will conjure up. But he’s right. We need to go through arrangements for Ava.

  This is what we are now. We are scheduled meetings, drop-offs, and collections.

  It’s agonizing. But I can’t dwell on anything else when I’ve been given the most amazing gift. Not even when he’s two feet away and making the hair on the back of my neck stand with anticipation.

  Exactly what I’m anticipating, I don’t know.

  “I can meet you there,” I agree, sitting up so straight I think my back might crack.

  He stands, buttoning his suit jacket at his waist like he has finished a business deal.

  I’m business now.

  Something to negotiate with.

  I’m pretty sure I’m disoriented from shock, and I’m sure I imagine it when he wipes a tear away from my cheek with his thumb before he leaves.

  I always had an active imagination when grasping at hope.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Alex?”

  His front door is open, so I knock and call out, not wanting to waltz in. I’m no longer a familiar guest in his home and I haven’t been for some time. Bandit greets me, wagging his tail until I pet him.

  “I’m in the kitchen.”

  My chest tightens as I step inside.

  His smell. His presence. Everything here is him.

  Except it isn’t just him anymore, and I can see how Ava has already made her stamp on the place. They’ve packed the smaller room to my left with toys, and a pink hairbrush and hair clips are on the table in the hallway. I tried to show him once how to do her hair. He’s getting better at it.

  I lean against the kitchen door frame and cross my arms over my chest as if it can protect me somehow. I know we need to have this conversation, but I’m not prepared for what he will say.

  The large window gives me a view of the ocean and washes over my nerves like a warm blanket. I inhale a breath to calm my erratic pulse.

  When he turns around, he doesn’t raise his eyes to look at me. I’m used to it.

  He feels as tense as I do. His back is rigid against his white shirt. He has rid himself of the tie and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. And dammit, if it doesn’t make heat go all the way to my toes. He places the coffee cups on the table and pulls out a chair for me before sitting on the other side of the table.

  “Sit down, M
andy.” He still hasn’t looked at me, but I sit anyway.

  I take a minute to look around, trying to focus my eyes on something other than him. But memories I don’t want come flooding back. All the times I pottered around barefoot in this kitchen with nothing but his t-shirt. Or the time we couldn’t make it to the bedroom, so he sat me on the counter and took me there. When he made me dinner and set this exact table with candles and filled the room with low music. When I fell asleep on the sofa after we stayed up most of the night talking, and I woke in his arms as he carried me to bed. This house isn’t just Alex and Ava. I’m here too. Or at least I was. Those memories evaporate in a cloud of smoke the moment I remember them.

  I don’t want to look at him because I’m afraid of what I’ll see when he looks back. I don’t want to see what was in his eyes when he came to my house last night. It killed me once. I don’t think I can do it again.

  But when I finally find the courage to look his way, he is staring at me. And although I can see the coldness that has become part of how he looks at me now, something else flickers across his face. Something raw and tormented. He rubs his hand roughly over the stubble across his jaw, his shoulders slouching as he lets out a long breath.

  I want to reach out and ease the tension across his chest. I want to soothe him. But I think better of it. That part of him said what he needed to when he took me to bed last night.

  “I think it’s best if we give Ava some structure,” he starts. “Half of the week with me, and half with you. But I also don’t want to force her into anything she isn’t ready for. In the beginning, until she gets used to the arrangement, we let her stay with you like she always does, for a night or two, and if she wants to stay longer, she can. I can come and get her from your house in the mornings for school because I know you need to get to work too.”

  I can’t argue with that. It’s whatever Ava is comfortable with. “Of course. That sounds good,” I say before taking a sip of coffee.

  That was easier than I expected.

  I still can’t believe I’m sitting here discussing living arrangements for my daughter. I have yet to process I have her back in my life in this way.