by MK Schiller
“Me too, love.”
“Are you hungry? I made dinner.”
“Starving, but not for food.”
She laughed, her head falling back, her silky hair falling on my arms. “Then take me to the bedroom, sir.”
We collapsed on the bed.
She straddled me, undoing the knot in my tie. “I have so much to tell you.”
“Me first, love.”
“Okay.”
I pulled out the box from my pocket. “I had this made for you in Mexico.”
Please don’t reject this, Mary. Please let me give you a fucking nice gift for once.
She gasped as soon as she opened the case. “It’s beautiful.” She undid the bracelet from the velvet box. It was a solid silver band with tiny lotus flowers etched on it.
“I’m glad you think so. There’s an inscription.”
She turned it over. “To my Lotus Girl, with love, always yours, Liam.” She looked at me with a big smile, completely at odds with the tear rolling down her face.
“Hey, what’s this?” I asked, kissing it away.
“Liam, I love it. I will always wear it.”
“Good. What did you want to tell me now?”
She bit her lower lip and turned her face away.
“What is it?”
Mary pointed to the nightstand, where a gift-wrapped package sat.
“You got me something, too?” I picked it up.
“It’s from Stephen, actually. He came here to drop it off. We went for coffee.”
I wanted to punch the wall. The gift shook in my hand. “You went for coffee with my brother?”
She twisted a strand of hair. “Yes. I’m telling you about it because it would feel underhanded if I didn’t, but nothing underhanded happened. We only talked.”
“I’m still trying to figure out why you’d go with him.” I saw my past collide with my present. Was she trying to hurt me?
She took the package from me. Then she took my hand in both of hers. “I’m not sure. He asked about my intentions. I know it’s strange. I think it came from a place of concern…concern for you. Then he asked me to be his friend. That was even stranger, but it sounded sincere. I told him ‘no.’”
I exhaled a long, ragged breath. “Stephen only cares about Stephen. I’ll make it clear to him he’s not welcome in my home.” Maybe I could even hold the conversation without beating my fists into his head.
“He’s your brother. Your only family. I don’t want you to have regrets like I do with Hannah.”
“Not the same thing.”
“He told me about how you visited him in the hospital.”
I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. This was the last thing I wanted to discuss. “Only because no one else did. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s manipulating you. He’s trying to fuck up my life.”
“Are you going to at least open his gift?”
“It’s the latest Call of Duty game. What he gets me every year. Just like all the other ones, I will donate it.”
“That’s the game you played when he was in the hospital. Don’t you think it’s his way of reaching out to you? Trying to make peace?”
“It’s complete bollocks.”
She flinched. “How do you manage to run a successful company with someone you hate?”
“We all do what we have to, Mary. One thing you don’t have to do, that you shouldn’t have done, is go to fucking coffee with my brother.”
She turned away from me, staring at the wallpaper. I stood, groaning in frustration.
“Where are you going?”
“To take a shower. Good night.”
I leaned against the shower wall under the hot spray for a long time. Long enough to realize I’d reacted from the fears of the past. Mary was not Melanie. She would not hurt me in a way I could not forgive. That much I knew. I came back to bed and slid beside her. “Still awake?”
“Yes,” she said.
“I think you see the good in everyone, even a sod like Stephen. I trust you. But you trust everyone. He’s not a good guy.”
She rolled over and laid her head on my chest. “Liam, do you not remember who I was when you first met me? I trusted no one. I spoke to no one. Give me some credit. I don’t see the good in everyone. What I have seen is evil. I’ve seen it firsthand. Because I have, I can recognize it. Stephen is insulting and brash. He’s done evil things to you, perhaps even unforgiveable things, but he is not evil. He’s like us.”
“How’s that?”
She pinched her fingers together. “A tad tortured.”
I grabbed her waist and rolled us over, so I was on top of her. “I appreciate your being honest with me. You’re not a naïve, gullible girl. I’m sorry if I made it out that you were. I’m in awe of your strength and bravery and compassion. I understand you’re trying to help me, but baby, you can’t un-sink a ship. All I thought about in Mexico was this moment when I got to hold you and kiss you and worship you.”
She kissed the corner of my mouth. “Let’s get started on that right away…sir.”
That’s my girl.
Chapter 41
Liam
We didn’t talk about Stephen, but it was still a sore subject. Instead, she told me about the boy over breakfast. Her face lit up with excitement. Then she told me about her plans.
“Absolutely not,” I said, slamming down my coffee cup.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Mary. You’re not working there.”
“Volunteering, not working. I can’t work because of my visa status.”
“Well, you’re not volunteering, either.”
She paced the room. All the excitement in her face had disappeared. She chewed on her lower lip, throwing me steely glances. I had a moment of regret, but when I thought about what she was asking, it didn’t last long.
She stopped in front me, hands on her hips. “I think you’re mistaken. I wasn’t asking you for permission.”
“You don’t have to ask. I’m telling you.”
“What is your problem?”
“It’s not a good area. Don’t you dare fucking say you can take care of yourself, either.”
She put her hand on my shoulder. “Liam, I love you, but I can’t sit here and wait for you to come home every day. Is that what you wanted? Someone to wait for you every day?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why are you being so stubborn? You told me to find my place, and that’s what I’m attempting to do.”
“I’m stubborn? Because I don’t want the woman I love to go to a place where random shootings are a daily occurrence?”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“If you want to volunteer somewhere, I can give you a list of acceptable opportunities.”
“I want this.”
“I understand you think you can make a difference in this boy’s life.”
She stamped her foot. “You don’t understand at all.” She clenched her teeth. “He makes a difference in my life. Not the other way around.”
“No, Mary. It’s not going to happen.”
“You can’t command me.”
“You love it when I’m commanding.”
She shook her head, her shoulders slumped. “Not like this.”
I broke her some. Whatever strides we’d made, I’d managed to set us back. Did she not realize how much I worried about her? I wanted to protect her. Why wouldn’t she let me?
“I have to go to work. Are we done here?”
“No need to dismiss me, sir. I have nothing further to say.”
I slammed the door on the way out.
What was happening to us?
* * * *
I headed to Stephen’s office first thing.
“Morning, Liam,” he said without looking up.
“Stay away from my girl.”
“I looked into her past.”
I
clenched my fists and counted to ten, trying to control the fury inside me. “What gave you the right?”
“Do you know about her? About her past?”
“I know everything.”
He nodded. There was no smartass remark or smirk. Instead, he stood from his desk and looked me in the eye. “Don’t hurt her, Liam. She’s been hurt enough.” It was the last thing I expected him to say. It caught me so off-guard, I had no response.
I worked for a few hours, but my mind kept reeling back to our fight. I stared at the photo on my desk. It was a candid shot I took of her on the beach, the waves lapping at her feet and a breathtaking smile on her face. It wasn’t in the picture, but she was watching some children building sandcastles.
What had she said about the lotus blossom?
It’s strong but delicate. You can’t change the habitat without destroying it.
Mary was strong but delicate. Was I destroying her?
Moneypenny came in with contracts for me to sign. “Can I get you anything else, Liam?”
“Will you sit?”
She raised her eyebrow. “You need me to take notes?”
“Not exactly.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Did I tell you I fell in love in India?”
She slid into the chair. “You didn’t have to. I saw the picture. That and the new perma-smile you’re sporting.”
“I love her so much it frightens me.”
“It should frighten you. That’s how you know it’s real. You’re putting your hopes and faith in someone else. You don’t have control over it. It’s one of the greatest risks, but it’s also the best reward in the world.”
“Right you are, as always. You’re brilliant, Moneypenny.”
“So brilliant I deserve a bonus?”
“And cunning… I forgot cunning.”
“I’m kidding, Liam.”
“I’ll take it under advisement anyway, but for now, I need you to cancel my afternoon.”
She cupped her hand over her ear as if she didn’t hear me. “Everything?”
“Clear the schedule, Moneypenny. I’m playing hooky today.”
Chapter 42
Liam
When I walked into the bedroom, Mary whirled around. She had her back against the wall, as if she was hiding something.
“What are you doing, love?” I asked.
“Why are you home?” she countered.
“We didn’t finish our discussion.”
“I don’t want to argue anymore.”
Her arms were behind her.
“Are you hiding something?”
She sighed and stepped aside. I couldn’t see anything, so I moved closer. She pointed to the tiny tear in the wallpaper about the size of a dime.
“I was trying to clean it. I scrubbed it so hard, I tore a hole instead. I’m sorry.”
I laughed and took her in my arms. “It’s fine, lass. It’s kind of ugly anyway.”
“It’s ruined because of me. I tried to get rid of the stain, but I made it worse.”
I’d never noticed any stain in the wallpaper, but I realized that’s where her eyes always went when she entered our bedroom.
I peeled the edge of the hole and then ripped it some more, making her dime-sized hole into a tennis ball. “No big deal. Feel better?”
“No.” Her mouth gaped. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Come here,” I said, leading her to the bed. “Let’s talk.”
“You changed your mind?”
“No, Mary. It’s not safe.”
“Then there is nothing to talk about.” She turned toward the spot.
I tilted her chin, turning her face to meet mine. “Stop worrying about the bloody wallpaper.”
“Do you think we can fix it?”
“Fix what?” Our relationship? It wasn’t broken, at least not to me.
“The wallpaper.”
Suddenly, I knew what we had to do. It might not have made sense to anyone else, but I knew my girl. I knew how she thought. What she needed.
“Not fix it, sweetheart. We can make something new, though.” I held out my hand. “Let’s go out.”
“Where?”
“We’ll need supplies.”
* * * *
We’d chosen a color between sea and sky. Actually, we each picked a swatch. I went for sea and she went for sky. We found something in the middle. When I went to pay, she tapped at the bill tucked into my wallet. The rupee note she’d given me as payment the first night I sketched her.
“You still have it?” she asked.
Why was she surprised? This note, this symbolic gesture, meant a great deal to me. I put my arm around her and kissed her head. “Best money I ever earned.”
Bill came up to help me move the bed. It wasn’t easy removing that God-awful wallpaper.
The work was good, both distracting and cleansing in a way. Maybe because we were busy doing something, it was easier to talk. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t broach the subject of her impending decision, but I saw her struggling with this new life. “Are you having a hard time here, love?”
Paint spattered her T-shirt as she rolled. “It’s an adjustment. Things are different.”
“What things exactly?”
I figured she’d say ‘me’’ or ‘us,’ or something along those lines.
“Units of measure. I keep converting things in my head. Distances take a lot longer than I plan on.”
I covered a spot she missed, wondering if I heard her right. “Units of measure?”
“It’s a small thing, but there are a lot of little things like that. They add up. It’s hard being an immigrant.”
“You’re having a tough time with units of measure?” I was relieved. Because this…this I could help her with.
“Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not, Mary. I get it. If anyone gets it, I do. Why didn’t you talk to me about it? I was an immigrant myself, remember?”
She smiled. “I forgot. What was the hardest thing for you when you came here from London?”
“The date. It still is. Sometimes I still write the day first.”
“I haven’t done it much, but I got it wrong when I signed the bank papers.”
“It’ll take a while. Don’t even get me started on ‘Celsius’ and ‘Fahrenheit.’”
She laughed. “Oh, my God, so true. Every day when I hear the weather, I get so excited thinking it’s going to be thirty degrees. Then I remember that means slickers and coats and gloves here.”
“Exactly. Once in a great while it happens to me, too. You’ll get used to it. What else are you having trouble with, Mary?”
“The prices. I do the exchange rate in my head. I calculate it twice, usually. I can’t believe how much things cost.”
I wanted to tell her not to worry, but the words would be meaningless. “I understand.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Liam, I’m adjusting. There are things I love, too. I love Central Park and the subway and how the stores are decorated for Christmas.”
“I think you’re the first person to ever utter affection for the subway.”
“I haven’t had the courage to attempt it on my own yet. I’m not really sure how to navigate it.”
“There’s an app. I’ll download it on your phone. You just type in where you want to go and it sets the route for you, station to station. Although, I can’t comprehend why you’d choose the subway when you have a car and driver at your disposal.”
“I don’t either, but sometimes I want to.”
“We need to talk about stuff like this more.”
“I agree.”
We weren’t exactly professional. We had a few drips. I used a fine paintbrush to cut the corners. When it was done, we sat on the floor against the door and admired our handiwork, a bottle of chilled white wine between us. We didn’t even bother with glasses.
“Why did y
ou want to paint the room?” she asked, passing me the bottle.
I took a long swig. “Because that hole would continue to cause you anxiety. I don’t want anything in our bedroom to bother you. This is the room where we sleep and dream and make love. It’s our sanctuary, yeah?”
“Yes. It’s a really nice color, don’t you think? It reminds me of Goa.”
“Me, too.”
“You haven’t painted since we got here, Liam.”
“Were you not here? I just painted a whole bloody room.”
She laughed. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” My fingers twitched thinking about it. “Are you upset with me about the shelter still?”
Mary crawled onto my lap. I put my arms around her, inhaling her spicy vanilla scent mixed with the tang of fresh paint.
“Liam, I love you, but you can’t be my entire life.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be.”
She hugged me. “I even love you for saying that. But I have to have something of my own here. You told me to find my place. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
I kissed her head. “Don’t stay any later than six.”
She tilted her head. “What are you doing?”
“Compromising.”
She smiled, the excitement back in her face. “Okay. No later than six. I promise.”
“Have Anderson take you every day.”
She shook her head. “I can’t take a limousine to a homeless shelter, Liam.”
“Baby, don’t you care about Anderson? He has a family to support. You’re going to make his position redundant.”
“I talk to Anderson, Liam. I happen to know he usually drives you because you like to make calls and reply to emails during your commute. So in a sense, me utilizing Anderson and you driving yourself is a waste of resources.”
Damn, this girl was a sharp negotiator.
“Fine. But you’ll take a cab. Don’t take the subway there. Every night, I’ll pick you up.”
“I agree to those terms.”
I held up the bottle of wine. “Here’s to a successful negotiation.”
Chapter 43
Mary
I had bargained for his surprise. I also prepared for his dismissal. Instead, he grinned in that boyish way of his. He walked around the easel and supplies I’d set up. I’d covered the floor with the drop cloths we’d used when painting the bedroom. I hesitated on the purchase, worried the artist inside him had gone back into hibernation. He touched every tube of paint, his eyes glinting brighter as he handled each one.
