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Stay Awhile

Page 13

by Gia Riley


  “How does pretending to marry me protect me?”

  He takes a step closer, and I take an immediate step back. He gets the hint and doesn’t try to move toward me again.

  “Megan,” he pleads. “God, we were so damn young back then. The odds were stacked against us, but you were convinced there wasn’t another person in this world who you’d love as much as you loved me.”

  He’s right. There was a time I did believe that. I couldn’t imagine waking up next to anyone other than Connor for the rest of my life. I didn’t think I knew how to survive a life without him—that’s how much I loved him.

  “When you agreed to be with me forever, you were the only girl I had ever been with.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I ask him.

  He pinches the bridge of his nose and says, “I’m trying to tell you, you were all I had. That meant more to me than you could ever imagine. You needed me. You wanted me. And I wanted to take care of you. I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else having your attention, or your body, or your heart.”

  “Connor, I’m really not in the mood for a walk down memory lane. If you have something to say, or a point to make, just get to it.”

  He rolls his eyes as his frustration grows. “Jesus, Meg. I’m not trying to bullshit you. I’m trying to tell you how I feel.”

  This is usually what he’s so good at—weaving this magical spell I constantly fall for. I’m so tired of it I could scream. “You were practically ignoring me for months, Connor. I’m sorry if I’m not getting all warm and fuzzy right now.”

  “I wasn’t ignoring you. I’ve always wanted you, but this guilt I’ve been carrying around every goddamn day of my life is killing me. It’s eating me alive, Megan. This is exactly who I didn’t want to become.”

  “Who are you then? Because I don’t have a clue what’s happened to you.”

  He sighs and starts to pace again. “Right now, I’m my fucking parents. When this all started, when we started living together, they were in the middle of a messy divorce. I swore to myself I would never go through that with you, or put any of our children through that kind of mind fuck. If they weren’t arguing over money or houses, they were arguing over me. I was in the middle and I hated it, Megan. So, when it came time for me to take the next step with you, I got scared. I hated the idea that marriage had the potential to self-destruct and rip a family apart. I wanted to give you everything you deserved, just without the mess.”

  “You can’t make that kind of decision and not tell me about it. How do you not see how wrong this is?”

  “I’m not saying what I did was right, but my intentions were. I was trying to protect you from what’s happening to us right now.”

  “So, let me get this straight. Because you were hurting, you decided to rob me of the one thing I wanted more than anything—a real marriage and a real family with the only person I’ve ever loved.”

  Connor moves so fast, I don’t realize what’s happening until his hands are around my waist and his eyes are boring straight through my heart. Squeezing me tighter than he should be, he says, “I gave you real, Meg. I swear I did.”

  “I don’t believe you. You were afraid of real. What happened to the fearless boy who sat on the edge of the dock with me on summer nights, holding my hand and kissing me like it was us against the world? Where did he go?”

  He sits down on the edge of the coffee table, his head in his hands. “I was fucked up in the head, Megan. There was so much going on you never knew about, and I wanted to keep you away from it. But no matter what was going on around me, I still loved you and wanted to give you a wedding, a house, kids, all of it. I lied, and for that I’m sorry—I’m so damn sorry. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

  Even though I don’t agree with his choices, part of me believes what he’s telling me. I remember how torn up he was during the divorce at the end of our senior year of high school.

  It scared me when Connor started to shut down, and I felt like every day that passed, his family was robbing me of the guy I loved.

  Eventually, as time passed, he slipped out of his depression and was back to the Connor I fell in love with.

  That’s probably why I didn’t confront him sooner when it started happening all over again. I wanted to believe he would find his way back to me on his own, and that he was strong enough to do it the right way.

  There were days I saw some positive changes, and I believed in the process. I believed in his feelings because sometimes they’re more than just simple thoughts or emotions. Sometimes, they’re our only connection, and our connection was all we had as a couple.

  “Say something, Megan. Anything.”

  In a daze of my own, I sit on the arm of the couch while Vanessa lingers in the kitchen, listening but staying out of our way.

  “Do you have any idea how much it hurt that you didn’t make our marriage legal?” I ask him as the first tear slides down my cheek. “When Vanessa told me, my god, I about died on the hospital floor, Connor. I was crushed. I still can’t believe that for the last seven years, I’ve been signing a last name that doesn’t belong to me.”

  “It is yours. In all the ways that matter, it’s yours.”

  It’s not.

  And then he breaks my heart all over again when he says, “I prayed you’d never have to find out, but I fucked it all up, didn’t I?”

  The fact that he even has to ask makes me wonder what kind of fantasy world he’s living in. In what universe is it okay to cheat on the woman you conned into thinking was your wife?

  I mean it a hundred and ten percent when I tell him, “I can’t be with a man who lied to me and married me under false pretenses. I can’t be with a man who cheats on me. I deserve better than that.”

  “I hate myself, Megan. I’ve hated myself for years.” His voice cracks along with another piece of my heart.

  The man who has always had so much confidence is crumbling right in front of me, and there’s not a single thing I can do to make him feel better. Not when I’m hurting just as much.

  “All you had to do was come clean. I could have understood if you gave me the chance, but each year you let our marriage go on, that made you a coward, Connor. You don’t deserve my forgiveness.”

  He shakes his head, his frustration peering through his sadness when he says, “I’ve been so worried about losing you, I forgot how to keep you.”

  “What about the woman I found in the kitchen? How does she fit into the equation?”

  As he swallows, the color drains from his face. I can tell I won’t like his answer at all.

  “She doesn’t matter. I’m not proud of what I’ve done to you, Megan.”

  I said I wouldn’t ask questions, but a simple, “Why,” slips out all on its own.

  Why was she good enough and I wasn’t? Why did she get pieces of him when he was supposed to be my husband?

  Connor pauses, and I can tell he either doesn’t want to tell me the truth or he has no explanation for his actions.

  Standing up, he walks over to the window and pulls the curtain back. He squints a little when the sun shines in his eyes. “When I looked at her, I didn’t see a gorgeous face that loved me. I didn’t hear a sweet voice that I’ve been in love since we were kids. She was never you, Megan, and she never took your place.”

  “Was she worth losing me for?”

  He shuts the drapes and leans his head against the wall. “Nothing is ever worth losing you. The second I crashed the car, and you showed up at home, I knew it wouldn’t matter if I came clean or not. I knew hiding the marriage was already enough for you to walk away. She was just another strike I had against me.”

  “And since you didn’t legally marry me, there’d be nothing you’d be able to say or do to keep me from walking away. Still think that plan of yours was smart?”

  He runs his hands over his face again and says, “I’d do just about anything for that piece of paper right now.”

  Vanessa
stands next to me, looking back and forth between the two of us. I can tell how pathetic she thinks he is. How she’d love to give Connor a piece of her mind for screwing me over.

  “Let’s go,” is all she says.

  Connor shifts and I feel his desperation building. “What about Laney?” he asks. “I want to see my daughter.”

  Maybe Connor’s living in hell every single day, but it’s a place he’s going to have to get comfortable with. “I’m going home to make sure this day doesn’t suck for my daughter. She’s been through enough hurt and enough pain to last her a lifetime. I’d appreciate if you left us alone.”

  He reaches for my arm, keeping me rooted in the middle of the living room. “I’ll never forgive myself for hurting her. I laid in that hospital bed without a clue as to how my daughter was doing. Do you have any idea what that was like?”

  “I do. It’s exactly how I felt when I was calling hospitals trying to find her. Then again when I had to rush into the emergency room, not knowing how bad it was or if she was alive. That was my hell, Connor.”

  “I just want to tell her how sorry I am,” he says as a tear falls from his eye.

  I’ve never seen Connor cry. Not even when Laney was born. Whatever emotion he shed that day or any other, it was always done in private.

  “You broke your daughter’s legs. You made her lie to me. That’s going to take a lot more than an ‘I’m sorry’. You need to pray to God she ever wants to see you again. Because I sure as hell don’t.”

  His shoulders shake as he practically pulls his hair out of his own head. If the guilt isn’t suffocating him, the fact he’s lost us both is. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he says over and over. “I just want to see my little girl.”

  Vanessa, my usually hard-as-stone sister, looks like she’s a second away from tears of her own. For her to get this choked up after all Connor’s done, well that makes me realize how far gone he really is. Nobody ever wants to see someone they care about fall to pieces—not even Connor.

  Regardless of how much it kills me to have to say it, I do anyway. “I can’t let you have Laney, but if you come out of this without jail time, maybe we can work on a supervised custody arrangement.”

  As fast as he let his guard down, his defenses go back up. “What do you mean you can’t let me have her? You’re not taking my daughter away from me, Megan. I may have done some shitty things to you, but I’ve always been a good father to her.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. You think what you did only affected me, but every move you make affects her, too, Connor. That’s how families work. And the second you put her in a car with you while you were drinking, you risked her life. That’s why any visitation rights you may get will be supervised.”

  His hand grabs the first thing it finds, which happens to be the remote to the TV. Chucking it against the wall, the plastic piece on the back flies off, sending four batteries flying in different directions.

  “You’ll get my paperwork in the mail,” is all Vanessa says before she opens the front door and walks through it.

  When she reaches the car, I turn to face Connor one last time. Considering he has a legal shit storm to deal with, we may never even get to the custody trial, especially if he ends up behind bars. Still, I tell him, “Take care of yourself.”

  He stares at me, and at the last second before I walk away, he makes his point with a threat. “I won’t go back to jail, Megan. And I won’t go without seeing Laney. Mark my words, this isn’t over.”

  “I never said it was,” I tell him before closing the door behind me and ending the biggest chapter of my life.

  Garrett

  “MOMMY!” A VERY EXCITED LANEY yells from her room.

  I was hoping she’d be so exhausted she’d sleep until Megan got home. Then I wouldn’t have to see her broken heart when she asks why her Mommy isn’t waiting for her downstairs.

  When I push open her bedroom door, she’s sitting up, her doll in her arms where it usually is. “Merry Christmas, Laney.”

  “Merry Christmas, G! Did Santa come? He came, right?” She rambles so fast my head spins a little.

  Holding her arms in the air, she wiggles her little fingers back and forth, silently begging me to pick her up.

  “Santa came,” I tell her as I slide her tiny body out from under the covers.

  She exhales in my arms and rests her chin on my shoulder. “You were right again. Santa figured out where to find me.”

  “Just like I told you he would.”

  She squeezes me a little tighter when we start going down the stairs. I can’t tell if it’s the anticipation of seeing her presents or if she’s scared I’m going to drop her. There’s not a chance in hell of that, but I still tell her, “I’ve got you.”

  “I know,” she whispers.

  I hesitate for the slightest of seconds, mostly because I’m caught off guard by her tone. She’s the most perceptive little girl I’ve ever met.

  Reading me better than any child ever has, Laney leans back in my arms and examines my face. I put the smile right back on, but she shakes her head like she can tell something isn’t right. “Where’s Mommy?”

  It kills me I have to lie to Laney, but I do it to protect her. She’s been through enough, and she’s been tested more than any five-year-old ever should be.

  “I was out of the good stuff and your mom wanted to make you an extra special breakfast. It’s my fault for not planning ahead.”

  “Do you think she’ll be much longer?” she asks as her eyes take in all the gifts surrounding the tree.

  Only a couple actually fit under the branches. I went overboard, but other than my niece on Christmas Eve, I’ve never been able to spoil a child on Christmas morning. This is the first time I’ve been awake before the birds just for the sake of ripping a bunch of overpriced paper into shreds—and I’ve never looked forward to making a mess more.

  “How about we go through your stocking while we wait?”

  “Awesome idea!” Laney watches as I take hers off the hook above the fireplace, giggling when I pretend it weighs a ton. “You’re scaring me, G. There better not be coal in there. I’ve been a very good girl this year.”

  Laughing, I set it on her lap and tell her, “Santa wouldn’t have left you all these presents if you weren’t a good girl.”

  Her little hand dives inside the fluffy red and white stocking. She’s already elbow deep, slowly digging all the way to the bottom. I watch as she pulls out some candy, a couple Disney princess figurines she squeals over, and a handful of lottery tickets.

  Staring at each one, she tries to figure out what they’re for. “I’ve never gotten these before. What do they do?” she asks, as she runs her fingers over the glossy cards.

  “They want you to scratch off the stockings and make a match. If you match three in a row, you win.”

  “What do I win?”

  “Some money.”

  “Wow! I’ve never won money from Santa before. And how about these big ones? What do I have to do on these?”

  I glance at the three matching cards, laughing when I see it’s a game of Bingo. In high school, Megan used to volunteer at the fire hall, doing paperwork for the Chief and a lot of filing. She would give me so much shit when I had to take my grandma to her weekly Bingo sessions at the hall.

  Grams loved that game and would play for hours at a time, usually ignoring me for Stanley, the old guy with the pipe who reminded her of an old friend.

  I always let Megan believe it was a painful way to spend my night, but I loved taking Grams, mostly because there was a good chance I’d get to see Megan while I was there. Some weeks, it was the only time I got to see her at all with Connor lurking around.

  I couldn’t help but feel like Grams knew and that was why she pretended to be so interested in carrying on a conversation with Stanley—so I wouldn’t feel like I had to sit with her and could go find Megan instead.

  “G? Did you hear me?”

  “Sorry, I was
just thinking about Bingo. If you want, we can try to play while we wait for your mom to get home.”

  Laney nods and pats the spot next to her on the couch. “You can go first since I don’t know how to play yet. I’ll watch you.”

  I move closer to her and cross my leg, setting the card on my knee. I dig around for a coin in my pocket, settling on a dime since her fingers are so small.

  After explaining the rules, Laney rests her head against my arm as she watches. Most kids might be pissed they can’t tear into their gifts, but she’s such a good girl, she’s content sitting here with me, playing a game that most likely wasn’t even intended for her. I can’t see Megan encouraging her daughter to gamble.

  Laney gets the hang of it quickly, and her favorite part is yelling out the bingo number as I scratch it off. She hunts for a match and gets even more excited when she sees it on her card. We do this at least a dozen times before the front door opens, and Megan and Vanessa hurry out of the cold with bags in each of their hands.

  “Mommy! Aunt Vanessa!” Laney says from her spot on the couch. “Can we open presents now?”

  Vanessa gives Megan a quick nod as some kind of silent understanding passes between the two sisters.

  My eyes stay on Megan the entire time she hangs up their coats and tries her best not to look at me. I can already tell she’s been crying.

  After seeing all of her last night, I hate that she’s trying to hide from me now. I want her underneath me in the bedroom, and I want her wrapped around me for support when she’s hurting.

  It wasn’t easy for her to give herself to me at first, and I heard the hitch in her voice when I almost told her to forget about Connor. She didn’t want me to even think about him, let alone mention his name while we were being intimate.

  That was the only verification I needed to see that she’s ready to move on, and that she’s ready to be with me despite her trust still being all over the place.

  Give me the tough times, the happy times, and the sad ones because once she gave herself to me, she became mine. I always take care of what is mine.

  Vanessa takes the dime out of my hand and gestures toward the kitchen. “I’ll take over. I think she could use some help with breakfast.”

 

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