by S. L. Scott
~ This is from Chapter 13 ~
Valentine’s Day fell on a regular Thursday. Hazel showed up to the park a few minutes late. Jude wasn’t worried, but she hated they didn’t have more time. When she looked up from her book, he stood there with a pink rose in his hand, and she said, “I didn’t think we would do gifts.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “It reminded me of you. Anyway, it didn’t cost much so don’t worry about it.”
As she took it from him, he sat down. With the flower to her nose, she closed her eyes and smelled. “Thank you.”
“This reminded me of you, too.” He held out a small box.
She knew it was jewelry just from the square shape of it. “No, I can’t take that.” She bit her lip and glanced between the box and him.
“Yes, you can, Jude. I bought it. You take. You open it. You say how much you love it and then you wear it. See? It’s that easy.”
A smile finally surfaced. “I used to love surprises.”
“Maybe you’ll like this one then.”
Bumping him with her elbow, she laughed. “Maybe. Guess we’ll see,” she teased. She had no doubt she would love it. It was from him, so that was already guaranteed, but she also had no idea what it would be.
Taking the small box in hand, she lifted the top and pulled out the little velvet box. Her breath stopped when she lifted the hinged lid and saw a ring.
“I know it’s presumptuous to give you a ring, or maybe a terrible idea that I had one late night when I was lying in bed alone when all I wanted was to be lying there with you. But I liked it and …” His eyes met hers. “I hope you’ll keep it, even if you don’t wear it.”
She took the delicate band of diamonds from the case and held it between her fingers. “Hazel, I can’t keep this.”
“There’s a necklace. One you can wear it on so no one knows, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
A million thoughts ran through her head, pros and cons of a gift of this magnitude, of this sentiment. But looking at him and then at the ring, the answer was obvious. Her heart spoke through racing heartbeats straight to his, and she slipped it on her finger.
He admired it on her. “A perfect fit.”
Yes, you are, my love, she wanted to say, but didn’t. For now.
Turning to him, she placed her hands on his face and kissed him. As their lips came together, winter took its last walk around the park and spring had announced its arrival through a warm breeze. When she looked at him, the cold had returned, but her body stayed warm cloaked in his love.
Jude leaned her head on his shoulder, and stared out. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome.”
When she sat up again, she said, “Hazel?”
“Yes?”
“My family can’t know about us. They’d never let us be.”
“You’re twenty-two, Jude, not twelve. They can’t stop me from seeing you.”
“They can.” She stared down at the sparkling ring wrapped around her finger, much like he had her wrapped around his. He just didn’t know it yet. “They think I’m crazy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been in and out of an asylum they call a recovery center at least fourteen times over the last two years.”
He sat up, concerned. “Why?”
“Because they hold a court order that says the hospital can evaluate me at any time. My stepfather tells them when I do anything wrong and then they decide if they come take me away.”
“What are you talking about, Jude?” He sat up, needing the full story, trying to understand. “You’re not crazy.”
“I’m not. I swear to you. I’m not, but they treat me like I am.”
That line she always noticed when he asked questions appeared, deeper than usual this time. “Where do they send you?”
“Bleekman’s. It’s a terrible place. They try to turn people crazy so they can collect the money from wealthy families. I see it. I know what they’re up to. It’s a private facility. The drugs, the … doctors.”
He noticed her hands shaking as much as her voice. Unable to face his fears, he looked away when he asked, “What do they do to you? Tell me.”
“Not today. It’s been such a beautiful day.” She held her ring out again and smiled. “If I don’t wear it on my finger, I’ll wear it close to my heart. Always.”
Clasping her ringed hand between both of his, he looked her in the eyes. “Jude, I need you to tell me what they do to you.”
The spark left her eyes and a haze replaced it. She struggled to keep eye contact and tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go. He leveled his eyes on hers and though she knew she could trust him, she could see his anger building before she even spoke. Taking her free hand, she touched his wrist and stole an ounce of his strength before saying, “They force me to take drugs that numb me, numb my mind and body. Then I get locked in a room with a window that has bars and peeling paint. I actually feel safe in there, in the isolation. Until the door is opened in the middle of the day, after lunch at twelve fifteen like clockwork, and the doctor does a check-up.”
He swallowed down the will to suppress this conversation and asked what he wasn’t sure he was prepared to have answered. “What’s involved in the check-up?”
“Let’s just say the abuse didn’t end with my uncle’s death.” She got up, book and box in hand, and took the path toward the street.
“Be honest with me. Is that the reason you don’t want to go to my apartment? You don’t want to be intimate with me?”
“I don’t go to your apartment because if I don’t return home, I go to Bleekman’s.”
He sat there, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. Today’s information hit him hard. This girl he was falling in love with was wearing a ring he’d just given her and yet, he wasn’t protecting her like he should. How did he not know any of this before now? He tried to control his anger, but that wasn’t going to happen. “You’re not going back to Bleekman’s,” he shouted.
He followed her. She turned around when he got close, and said, “Don’t you see how much I love you, Hazel?”
Love was in the air, in her heart, and filled his, but her forthright declaration surprised him.
Through the cleansing of the darkness, she was looking at him bathed in light. The spark returned to her eyes when he neared and his hands went around her waist. He lifted her up, eye level with him, and kissed her. When he set her down, he said, “I love you more.”
With a teasing smile, she said, “You said your gifts didn’t cost much.”
“It’s only money, Jude. Money doesn’t matter. Love does.”
Jude started opening up after that. The stories were hard to hear, but he would listen, would ask questions, and would comfort her the best he could. He just wished he could open up as easily. Telling her about his illness seemed like a daunting burden he didn’t want to place on her. She had enough to deal with.
In late February, they were waiting in line, a coffee for him and hot chocolate for her, outside his work on his lunch hour, when she said, “You would have liked my brother Ryan.”
He tried not to make a big deal when she offered these insights into her life up, but it was hard to just wait to see what she would say. “Was he like you?”
“No. He was strong.”
“I think you’re strong.”
“You say that because you don’t see me but for a few hours each day.”
“I say that because you’ve survived and still have the ability to make others smile.” He smiles and points at it.
That made her laugh. He loved hearing her laugh. She laughed quite often with him and it made him wonder if she laughed when they were apart. “Tell me more about Ryan.”
“Ryan was a lot like you—handsome and smart.” She rolled her eyes. “Girls were all over him all the time. It was quite annoying actually. He was two years older than me and would have done great things in life, if given the chance.”
>
Sensitive to the subject, he whispered, “How did he die?”
“He didn’t have a fitting death for the life he led.” They moved up in line. “He was hit crossing the street here in the city. Two cars racing. In Manhattan. It would have never ended well. Someone was destined to die. I just wish it wouldn’t have been my brother.”
“Me too.” Taylor put his arm around her shoulders and they ordered their drinks. When they walked away, the moment had passed, and Jude was onto another topic. Each time she shared a little more of herself, of the life she hid from him, he started to feel he understood why she kept them hidden.
Mid-March. On a Saturday that couldn’t decide if it was winter or spring, Jude felt very much that she and Hazel were star-crossed lovers. One day felt like perfection, the next complications from their secret affair overshadowed their day. Despite the mixture of emotions, she stopped when she found they were walking by The Plaza Hotel. People were coming and going, rushing past them as she stood there, looking up into hazel eyes that adored her. “We should go in.”
It wasn’t a suggestion and he took full advantage of the offer. “How much longer do we have?”
“Two hours left.”
He didn’t run, but he might have rushed the doors and up to the registration desk. “One room please.”
The woman behind the counter glanced to Jude and then to Taylor, for whom she smiled. “Certainly. One room for the night. Check-out is eleven in the morning.”
The plastic of his credit card slapped against the counter, and he replied, “That will work.”
Taking the card in hand, she looked at the name and up to him. “Very well, Mr. Barrett. No luggage?”
“Nope. Spur-of-the-moment trip,” he said, smiling.
Jude lifted up on her toes and whispered, “Are you sure?”
“Never more so.”
Looking around the lobby, she knew it was time, so with her back to the desk, she said, “I want to have you over for dinner with my family.”
“Really?” he asked, shocked.
“I’ll tell my parents about us tonight.”
“Do you want me there?”
“No,” she replied, coyly. “I should break it to them first. I’ll have to explain when I’ve been seeing you. I haven’t been telling them the full truth. I tell them where I go, but I don’t tell them who I’m with, so I don’t know how they’ll react.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “That’s why you take the brochures?”
“That’s why.”
Jude spoke to the front desk attendant, “Can we have champagne sent up to the room. We’re celebrating.”
Peeking up at Taylor, he had one eyebrow raised, then said to Jude, “Yes, we are. Several times over if we have it my way.”
“Have I ever told you how much I like your way? Especially when you have your way and move your tongu—”
“Sir!” the woman said, interrupting. “Your card. Please sign here and here is your room key.”
Taylor signed for the room and took the key. After listening to brief directions, the two walked together toward the elevators, a shared secret on their lips.
CONTINUED in the Bestselling standalone novel, Until I Met You, but for a special outtake, keep reading.
http://tinyurl.com/jdgss4p
Chapter Fifteen
Until I Met You - Outtake
This picks up when they first move to California.
The house was a rental and small, but Jude loved it, almost as much as she loved being married to Hazel. It had no view, but it did have a tiny yard. She sat out there under a tree and often read, listened to music, and daydreamed. As she sat in the middle of the living room, she realized her old bedroom was bigger than this space, but there was no pink and no horrible memories here. This was her new start.
Their new start.
Hazel was better here. California had eased that line between his eyes to the point that sometimes she would have to search for it. That line gave her comfort. She didn’t know why. To her, maybe it was that it represented his journey, his pain and struggles. She had lines all over her body. They were invisible to the naked eye, but Hazel saw them. He had seen them all along, and he was helping to erase them. It would take time, but the move had helped.
There were no reminders here. The city was their playground, their canvas—a place to not only paint their lives, but create their future. She got up from the floor with a framed picture of the two of them and walked to the TV console next to the drafting table, placing it so it was facing his stool. The photo of them from their cross-country road trip made her smile. She hoped it did the same for him.
She unpacked another box before dragging a box of books to the bookcase they put near the balcony. As she unloaded the special edition fiction books and architecture books, she discovered a photo album and set it aside. She wanted to get as much as she could get done before he got home, but the album practically called to her, completely distracting her.
Grabbing the taunting book, she headed for the couch and sat crossing her legs and resting the book on top. The first page brought a huge smile to her face and a feeling of warmth to her chest. Her love was just a baby in the photo and the most adorable little human she had ever seen. For the first time, she felt a desire deep down, something bigger than herself, something building inside.
She turned the page and flipped slowly through the rest of the album, admiring, smiling, laughing, and enjoying this peek at Hazel’s life before her. It was when she landed on his prom picture that he walked in.
The door shut, but she didn’t hear. “Hey there, what are you looking at?” Taylor saw the album and laughed while rolling his eyes. “Ugh. Can we burn that?”
She looked up and saw him. He was being dramatic, but she took his hand and reassured him anyway. “I love these photos. Why have you never shown me this book?”
Dropping down onto the brown leather next to her, he pointed to the photo. “That’s why. It’s embarrassing.” Leaning over, he kissed her temple and then her cheek. She turned and he kissed her lips, lingering there a bit longer.
She whispered, “Welcome home,” and caressed his cheek. She liked him this close. She felt safe with him and closed her eyes. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she took his scent in. “I missed you today.”
“I missed you.”
When she looked back at the picture, she smiled. “You were Prom King? You never told me this. How could you hold back such vital information?”
Chuckling, he said, “I was afraid you wouldn’t marry me knowing I was once popular.”
“Popular people aren’t the problem in this world—”
“Assholes are,” he finished her sentence.
She raised her eyebrow and nudged him. “I was going to say greed is, but assholes works too.”
He took the album and closed it. “I have a surprise for you.”
“We said no gifts for Valentine’s.”
“I lied.” He stood up and brought her with him. “Come with me.”
Holding hands, she walked out the front door with him, but stopped. “Do I need shoes?”
Looking down, he said, “Shoes are optional.”
“I’ll get shoes then. You know, just in case.” She giddily ran back inside and slipped on a pair of flats that complemented her sunny yellow sundress.
Hazel was waiting in the car for her when she walked back outside. She hopped in and he took off. “Where are we going?”
Sunglasses blocked his mischievous hazel eyes, which is why he put them on while she ran inside. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the secret for long. She had a knack for seeing right through him. He kept his eyes focused on the road and his hands had a firm grip on the steering wheel though he wanted to hold her hand … or inch her skirt up. There was something so sexy about those sundresses …
The ride was filled with talk about their day and what they wanted to do on the weekend. Jude started school in a week and she had boug
ht her books earlier that morning. “I’m glad you have money or those books would put us in the poor house.”
“I don’t have money, Jude. We have money. It’s yours as much as mine.” He lowered his voice and said, “The other money will be transferred into your name within the next two months.” He hated mentioning that money because it represented everything bad in her life. Taylor knew she wouldn’t want to touch a dime of it, but he wondered what she planned to do with it. “Have you given it much thought?”
“I think about it as little as possible.”
That was enough for Taylor. He didn’t want to ruin their outing. But when he turned off the freeway, she added, “I’m going to donate it. All of it. Every last penny. It didn’t help me, but maybe it will help someone else.” The determination in her voice was clearly heard. He just worried he’d upset her. By her whitened knuckles as she fisted her hands at her sides, he had.
“You know you don’t have to do anything right away.”
“I don’t want it. I don’t want to make money on interest. I don’t want to think about it. I want it gone, but I want it to matter, to make a difference somehow. Where are you taking me?”
He weaved back onto the freeway. LA traffic sucked and he preferred to keep moving even if it meant taking different routes to get to his destination. “We’ll be there in a few more minutes.” Glancing over at her, he asked, “Would you like me to manage the money? To make donations in your name?”
“I would like your help making all the decisions. It’s a lot of money. It can make a real difference if handled properly.” Reaching across the console, she rested her hand, palm side up, on his thigh.
He took hold and kissed the back of it. “I’ll help you however you need.”
“Thank you.” She turned to face her window, her eyes seeming to look further than the hills that were mounting in the distance. “I never went to prom.”
He caught a glimpse of her again, but didn’t make a production of the statement. “They’re not all they’re made out to be.”
“I once heard Rufus call you a golden boy. That night at the nightclub when we all went out.” She paused in thought and he didn’t feel the need to add to that, not knowing where she was going with this conversation. “You were Prom King. That’s huge.”
