by Leddy Harper
I raced back there and found him in my old room, taking apart the furniture. He already had the dresser broken down, the mirror leaning against the wall, and the bed mostly dismantled by the time I walked in. He sat on the floor with a screwdriver in his hand, his tongue peeking out, and his hair in even more disarray than usual.
“Does this mean I’m officially staying in your room now?” I started to squat, to join him on the floor, but his eyes stopped me. The anger darkening the green and lining his brow kept me from sitting down. In fact, it kept me from breathing, as well. “What’s going on?”
“Your clothes are in bags. I’ve already put them in your car for you. I’m not sure how you plan on getting all this out of here, but I figured I’d save time and go ahead and break it all down for you. It should make moving it out easier. The patio table will have to come out of the gazebo, and the chairs are still in the garage. I can’t really do much with the couch in the other room, so it can stay there until you arrange for a U-Haul or whatever you plan on using to take this all with you. Just don’t take too long, because I want it out.”
“I-I don’t understand. W-what happened, Holden?” I had to fight back the tears, but that didn’t stop them from filling my voice and breaking my words. “Last time I saw you, you were fucking me in your bathroom, then you left the house and now you’re…now you’re kicking me out? Is this because of Connor’s text message?”
His eyes snapped to mine, and the heated anger I saw reflecting in them shattered my heart. “I was a fool to think you’d actually choose me. To assume you’d give this an honest shot. Silly me…here I was believing you were putting forth the effort in seeking a long-term relationship with me. But I was wrong. Because the whole time, you were talking to that asshole, ‘planning’ things behind my back. And you know what? I had an idea you were still talking to him. I guess I just trusted that you wouldn’t stab me in the back.”
“I didn’t—”
“No…you’re absolutely right, Janelle. You didn’t stab me in the back. You faced me, looked me right in the eye, and stuck your knife straight through my chest while I watched. I just want to know why. Was it the money?”
I had no clue what he was talking about, but I refused to give up without a fight. “I didn’t stab you anywhere. Not in the back or the chest. And I did give it a fair shot—I’m still giving it one. I want you, Holden. Don’t let one stupid text change anything. Clearly, you saw that I haven’t been responding to him.”
“Yeah. And I also noticed that you hadn’t told him the change of plans.”
“What is there to tell him?” I raised my voice, partly out of fear, but also from frustration. I couldn’t fathom losing him, especially over something silly like this, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say his refusal to calm down and talk about this rationally pissed me off. “You wanted to remove the six-month deadline and just let things happen and see where they’d go. So what was I supposed to tell him?”
“Exactly that.”
“Why when I could just wait until either January, when he was already expecting this to be over with, or until I had a definitive answer? That made more sense to me, and I’m sorry for not explaining that to you, but I knew how much you hated talking about him.”
“Just tell me, Janelle…was it about the money?”
I fought against rolling my eyes and decided to pause for a full inhalation instead. “Yes, Holden. It’s always been about the money. You knew that from the beginning. If you chose to ignore it and not see it for what it was, then I’m not sure what else to tell you.”
I had never kept it from him. He understood there was nothing between me and Connor, and that marrying him wouldn’t ever be a real thing, only a way to get the money. Hell, he’d been informed of that from day one, yet he still offered to move me in with him as part of his deal. Not to mention, when we talked about exploring what we had between us, and again when he surprised me with the lease on the storefront, I was very open and honest with him regarding my fear over giving up the money and still losing him. I hadn’t kept any of that a secret, yet now, he acted as if I’d never told him any of it.
“That’s what I thought,” he practically said to himself, as if his words weren’t meant for me. But I heard them all the same, and they hurt more than I’m sure he intended. “Listen, Janelle…this isn’t gonna work out. I should’ve never believed it would. I guess I got wrapped up in having someone with me. I didn’t stop and look at the bigger picture. In the end, I got what I wanted, and you got what you wanted, so I guess we’re even.”
“I got what I wanted? What did I want, Holden? Huh? And what did I get?”
He stood from the floor and grabbed an envelope off the top of the empty dresser. I hadn’t seen it in two months, but I knew exactly what it held. “Signed. Sealed. And delivered. Here’s your divorce. Just like you asked for, except four months early. Our part of the deal is done. Completed. Feel free to move on and go after what you want.”
I wanted to scream at him, slap him until he stopped listening to his own thoughts and heard the words I told him—the words proclaiming that he was what I wanted. But there was something in his eyes that prevented me from continuing. The severe coldness displayed left me unable to speak. The hope I’d held onto from the beginning started to float away and it became painfully obvious that nothing I said would change his stance.
“As far as the storefront goes…you haven’t technically started your business yet. I was thinking I could sublease it out, but if you’d like, I could sublease it to you. But don’t feel pressured to take it; I know how expensive it is and how much you never wanted it in the first place. I figured since you haven’t done anything with the space yet, I’m not causing you any irreparable damage.”
I clenched my teeth and balled my hands into fists, holding myself back from either wrapping my arms around him and pleading with him to listen and give me a chance, or physically attacking him. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to love him or hate him, and that war only made things worse.
I nodded, acknowledging him without words, because I didn’t trust myself to speak.
“There are still some clothes of yours in my room and in the laundry room. Feel free to finish getting ready—take a shower if you need to, use the bathroom, eat breakfast. I’ll be in here finishing this. And I guess just keep me in the loop of what you plan to do with all this.”
“I don’t want any of this. Throw it all away for all I care.” I swallowed down my need to cry. Although this time, my tears were made of more than anger. They were mixed with pain. Pure agony. An absolute broken heart, unlike I’d ever experienced before. If I thought flying home after Vegas alone was bad, nothing compared to walking back to his room alone.
After almost twenty minutes of sitting on the edge of his bed with my head in my hands, crying unlike I’d ever cried before, I finally managed to pull myself together enough to get ready and leave. As pathetic as it was to cry in his room by myself, it proved to be therapeutic, because it reminded me how I was the only one I could depend on to wipe away my tears.
And as I drove away with my clothes in bags in the back seat, I was reminded that superheroes don’t exist. Not even the ones who didn’t have powers from other planets. In fact, it was the first time I believed that I had a better chance of running into a man who could fly than I did finding a man who wore a mask at night to fight the bad guys. I learned I needed to start believing in the ones who’d been bitten by an insect and suddenly had superhuman powers, or the ones created in a lab.
Because real heroes didn’t exist.
No one would come rescue me.
As I drove away from Holden York, I learned just how alone I was.
“I must say, Janelle, your call surprised us all.” Samantha Verdurmen, one of the producers on the show, sat across from me at a large mahogany desk in New York City. “Last time we spoke to Connor, he said you two were planning a wedding for next summer.”
“Well, things
happened unexpectedly.” Even though I sat here with a smile on my face, it didn’t mean my heart had stopped hurting. It remained shattered in my chest, but I chose to ignore it, doing what I did best—moving on and turning my back to the past. “As you’re aware, I had to get divorced, so that took some time.”
“And I see you’ve gotten the papers signed?” She picked up the envelope and pulled out the papers with Holden’s signature scratched along the bottom. I hadn’t even looked at it, unable to see his name in ink, dried, dissolving the marriage I had just barely gotten to enjoy.
After leaving Holden’s house, I didn’t know where else to go, so I stayed at a hotel for a couple of days while Connor helped me sort it all out. He’d called the show and found out the next steps we needed to take. We’d planned this meeting so they could guide us in how to proceed. They’d even set us up in a fancy two-bedroom suite.
“I won’t lie, Miss Brewer, I didn’t expect you’d get these signed. We were thinking you had changed your mind.”
I glanced at the other people in the room—none of whom I recognized. They were all suits, leaning back in their leather chairs, executives in every sense of the word, regarding me silently. Samantha was the only one who spoke, and even she remained vague most of the time.
“Well, if I’m being honest, I almost did change my mind. By the time those papers were signed, I wasn’t the one who asked for it.” I couldn’t keep the pain from my voice any longer. It may have been a week since I walked out of his house with the envelope in my hand, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, if anything, it only made it worse. Because I hadn’t heard one word from him.
I’d spoken to my family—each of them—at least once since I left, telling them I had gone to New York with friends for a girls’ trip I completely made up, and not one of them even mentioned his name. It hurt. A lot. But I had to forge on. I couldn’t dwell on his decision, because in the end, he’d made it based on my actions. On my inability to communicate to Connor regarding my feelings and desires for Holden. I was the only one to blame.
But the thing that hurt most, even though I hadn’t truly expected it, is that he hadn’t come after me. He’d dropped me just like he had after Vegas.
“So what happened? Why the change of heart on his part?” she asked, sounding more like a reporter than the producer of a lame reality show.
“It doesn’t matter.” I sat up straighter, hoping my body language conveyed that this topic was off limits. “What’s important is that I did my part, got the papers signed, and now all that’s left is to marry Connor and then collect our money.”
“Well, you still have to file for the divorce. This is only step one.” She held up the folder. “If you’d like, we have an attorney on staff who could represent you and have this taken care of on your behalf.”
I hesitated, really thought about her offer. It sounded like a dream, not having to deal with the reality of the dissolution of a marriage I’d only recently started to accept. It would mean I could move on and lick my wounds, while working toward collecting the check—the whole reason I was even in this position to begin with.
We spoke a bit more. I asked her questions about the attorney and how filing the papers worked, about how long it would all take and when I would be able to legally marry Connor. She asked me some questions about my views on marriage and if I thought Connor and I would be able to make a real go of things. I almost laughed at her when she asked me that. Our prize money wasn’t contingent on our relationship, so I didn’t have to be in love with him or even pretend we were getting married for the right reasons. Certain I had nothing to lose—and no one else to talk to—I chose to be honest with her and everyone in the room. I opened up about Holden and where things stood before I woke up that fateful morning. I explained how I’d felt before and after he chose to kick me out of his bed, his house, and his life, all within fifteen minutes.
It seemed that was enough to get Samantha to finally cut the act. Her hard exterior began to soften as we spoke, and she offered me insight and even a few unsought words of advice. I replayed them in my head over and over on the way back to the hotel. On the way back to Connor. In all honesty, I felt lost. Her words helped more than they hurt, but that still didn’t mean I had all the answers. At least I knew the game plan and what I wanted to do. I’d decided where I wanted to go after here and how I planned to get there. If only I could find out what I’d had to drink that night in Vegas that made me black out, because I’d get an IV of it this minute if it would erase all memory of this heartache.
When I opened the door to the suite, I found Connor in the living room, bending some blonde over the back of the couch. I groaned—he wasn’t supposed to hear me, but this wasn’t the first time I’d walked in on Connor fucking some random woman in our communal space, and we’d only been here two days.
“This is the reason I prefer to stay in my own room.”
“If you spent more time with me, I wouldn’t need to find company.”
I opened the door to my bedroom and slammed it behind me, unable to deal with him any longer. I was just happy this process was almost over, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about putting up with him ever again. I tossed my purse to the side and threw myself onto the bed, succumbing to the exhaustion I’d been living with since being kicked in the chest a week ago.
Even though I dreaded sleep—because I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing his face, without hearing his voice or feeling his touch—I couldn’t fight it. My body was spent, probably because I’d expended so much energy due to my broken heart.
As I gave in to the blackness, I released one final sob.
20
Holden
“You have got to be the biggest idiot in the world.” Ronnie stood in my office with her arms crossed over her chest, staring at me like I was a moron who’d just tried to tell her two plus two equaled seventeen. “It’s obvious you miss her, so why the hell are you here and she’s there?”
“Have you not heard a word I’ve said?”
“Yes, Captain Asshat, I’ve heard them all. You went through her phone—without permission, might I point out—read text messages that weren’t meant for you, and then spent almost the entire night sulking in your own rendition of what had happened. Because let’s be real, you didn’t ask her what he meant when he sent her those texts. You didn’t ask her why she said those things to him. You looked at the dates, assumed you knew when everything took place—regardless of the fact you’re a guy and guys are the most horrible timekeepers—and then you jumped to conclusions. Then you spent hours and hours drowning yourself in those assumptions, and not once did you bother to ask her about any of it.”
“That’s not true. I did ask her.”
“Yeah. The next morning as you ripped apart her furniture. After you packed all her clothes and belongings. You kicked her out of your house, Holden. Not just your room, not just your life…the house you arranged for her to live in until at least January. Where did you think she would go?”
“She has family here.” My words tasted like soured milk.
“Way to be a heartless asshole.” She rolled her head and groaned before looking at me once more. “Stop being mad. Stop living in this bubble where she’s the bad guy who did something wrong. You don’t know what she’s done because you never bothered to ask. Pack your sack and move to the land of benefit of the doubt, and we’ll talk more then.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Ronnie. It’s over. She didn’t even fight me on the way out. She took her stuff and left, and then went straight to New York. Why? Gee, maybe to follow through with the original deal and marry the loser for a check.”
She stalked toward me, grabbed the back of one of the chairs in front of my desk, and leaned forward. “What did you expect her to do?” Ronnie asked with sincerity. “Really, Holden…you kicked her out, months before she expected to be on her own, after taking back the office space you had just gifted to her. Aside from a new
relationship with her family and your signature on the divorce papers, what more does she have now than she did two months ago when she first arrived?”
“Why are you making me out to be the bad guy?” She was right, she always was, and she wouldn’t stop until I recognized it, but that didn’t keep me from arguing. I’d deny her for as long as I could, because I wasn’t ready to accept that maybe I had jumped the gun.
“She’s been gone for a week, and you haven’t gone after her. You haven’t called, you haven’t chased her down. You just let her walk out, taking your future with her, and you haven’t done a damn thing to stop it. That makes you the bad guy. Not only for yourself, but for her, as well.”
“Again, Veronica…” I only ever used her full name when either introducing her to someone, or when I was angry with her. She knew that, too. “I’m not the only player in this game. She had a part in it, too, so why am I the only one who’s in the wrong?”
“You’re not. She should’ve been upfront with that guy about where it all stood. But not because of you. Because this guy has a right to the facts—if there’s a chance he won’t get any of that money. She was in the wrong for that, and I’d tell her the same thing if she were here. Except she’s not, because you pushed her away. So I can’t divvy up the blame between the two of you because you’re the only one here.”
I dropped my head into my hands and suppressed a growl, frustrated at her inability to take my side. She was supposed to be my friend, but whenever Janelle was brought up, she often chose to defend her. “You won’t get it. You weren’t there. I appreciate your help, but it’s useless because you don’t and won’t see my side of things.” I slid my hands down my jaw and raised my eyes to meet hers. “You’re ignoring the fact that I was hurt. That she hurt me, and instead, all you’re worried about is her.”
