I wanted to leave the conversation right there with the rest of the night devoted to dinner followed by snuggling up to the man I loved. But I had to tell Hart about Will’s request. Neither Will nor I had the luxury of time. I breathed in as much oxygen as my lungs would hold and slowly let it drift out of my body.
“There’s more,” I said sheepishly, lifting my head to look at Hart.
“You’re killing me tonight, Bryson.”
Hesitating, I furrowed my brows as I chewed on my bottom lip before dropping the bomb. “All of Will’s family and friends have turned their backs on him.” I paused. “He’s terrified of dying alone. He asked me if I would consider letting him move back into the house.”
It was slight but the big vein in Hart’s neck throbbed again. “Get up, please.”
I stood. “Are you going to scare the hell out of Butter and destroy something else in your bedroom?”
Gripping the wheels, Hart rolled his chair back and forth behind the sofa as if he were pacing. Even under his sleeve I could see his muscles flexing with each push as he worked to keep his composure.
“Hart . . .”
He stopped and raised his index finger, indicating he needed more time. He paced for a few more minutes. His expression remained stoic. Finally he stopped and our gaze locked.
“What does move back in mean exactly?”
“He’s left everything to me in his will—the house, the cars, the money. There’s enough for me to live on for a long time and go to culinary school. This is one of the reasons why he hasn’t signed the divorce papers. If I’m still legally his wife then no one can contest the will.”
“So he’s bribing you to take care of him.”
“I think it’s his way of trying to make amends.”
“And the other reasons?”
“I’ll be able to make medical decisions if he becomes unable to . . . and he’s terrified of dying alone.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I needed to discuss everything with you first. And if you had any problem with the arrangement whatsoever we’d need a Plan B.”
“So, he knows about us?”
I nodded.
“You still have feelings for him.”
It was a statement not a question, and it ripped me apart.
“No! Why would you even think that?”
“Because I can see it in your eyes. After everything he’s done, you’re actually considering letting him move back in and taking care of him.”
“It always struck me as odd that on my wedding day, I was more nervous than excited. There was something off. At that time it was too late so I ignored it. I blame Will for a lot, all the lies, the cheating, and generally being a giant asshole. I hate that he took ten years of my life. That he thought so little of me and our marriage. But I can’t blame him for everything. I had a secret too. Will never had all of my heart. You did. You do. And will always. He’s broken. Call it what you want, guilt, sympathy, or some fucked-up version of loyalty. All I know is I don’t want to be . . . I can’t be that person who hates so much that I turn my back on someone who, for better or worse, was a significant part of my life. I just don’t think he should have to die alone as punishment.”
Hart moved over to me. Clutching my hips, he pulled me in closer and nuzzled into my chest. Threading my fingers through his hair, I rested my cheek against the top of his head. We stayed in this position for several minutes before he shifted and looked up at me.
Adoring blue-gray eyes locked with mine. “How do you do that?”
The back of my hand ran down the side of his face. “Do what?”
“Constantly take my breath away.”
The next day Hart and I got with Will to iron out details of our arrangement and also for the two men to officially meet. Initially, Will wasn’t comfortable with Hart being involved but I told him that was the only way this was going to work. Since there wasn’t much of a choice, Will accepted. At times the mood was suffocating. It was as if awkwardness, tension, and anger had a three-way that produced a resentful hate child.
Even though we were still legally married and Will had documented his final wishes, there was still a chance, slim as it may have been, that his parents could contest the will if they knew our reconciliation was for show. Somewhat ironic being that they pushed him into a pretend courtship and marriage. So it was important for me and Hart to keep our relationship quiet.
All of the couples Will and I hung out with prior to the separation chose sides post-separation. And no big surprise they all chose Will. Even though they had all abandoned him once he was diagnosed, if one of them happened to find out we were together for technicality purposes only and mentioned it to Will’s parents, things could get ugly. Sophie and Colin were the only two people outside of me, Will, and Hart who knew the reconciliation was just a cover.
Hart didn’t like or trust Will, so it was important to him to be there when Will moved his stuff back in. The day was set to take place on the Saturday, two weeks before Thanksgiving. Since it was smack dab in the middle of the busy season at work and I needed the day off, I told Nancy about Will . . . kind of. Keeping it short and sweet, I simply said he was an old friend who was very sick and needed my help.
Other than two suitcases and the black bag he used to carry his laptop, Will didn’t have anything else to move in. But by the look of all the help that showed up at my doorstep that morning you wouldn’t know that. Besides my protective boyfriend, Colin was there to support Hart and help him up my front steps. Sophie came to hold my hand and make sure everyone played nice. The only problem was she didn’t include herself in everyone.
I was coming down the stairs with a clean set of sheets for the guest room when I heard voices coming from downstairs. Facing in my direction, Will stood in the entryway with his two suitcases on the floor beside him. He’d just arrived and was being given the royal treatment by the Hart and Sophie welcoming committee.
Sweeping her hand to her hip in dramatic fashion, Sophie said, “I still can’t believe she’s letting your slimy bastard ass back in here. I hope you realize how fucking lucky you are.”
Will cleared his throat while rubbing the back of his neck. “Bryson always had an incredible heart.”
“Goddam right she has. Listen, I’m sorry you’re sick. But if you fuck with her in any way, shape, or form I will slowly slice off your dick and balls and shove them up your ass. Then I’ll bring my dick-sniffing Rottweiler over here to crawl up your ass and retrieve said dick and balls.”
Will stood motionless and silent.
Hart twisted his head from Will to Sophie then back to Will. “What she said, times ten.”
Slapping my hand over my mouth, I stifled a laugh. I headed down the stairs, clearing my throat loudly to alert them. Two innocent and one stunned pair of eyes met me as I approached them. As I landed beside Hart, his arm immediately snaked around my waist, his hand resting on my hip.
Giving Will a weak smile, I said, “Hey.”
“Hey.” He looked at where Hart’s hand landed before glancing down at his suitcases. “Well, this is it. I travel pretty light these days.”
Sophie leaned toward Will. “You’ll be traveling even lighter if you fuck up.”
My head whipped in her direction. “Sophie!”
“What?! He knows what I’m talking about.” Raising two fingers, she pointed them from her big violet eyes to Will’s dark brown ones then walked toward the kitchen.
“Remind me never to get on Sophie’s bad side,” Hart muttered.
A moment of awkward silence as Hart gripped my hip and glared at Will.
“So, you can put your things in the guest room.” I held up the sheets. “These are yours. I’ll just put them in your room.”
I glanced down at Hart letting him know I was fine before stepping out of his hold. I headed down the hall to the guest room with Will following close behind.
Once inside the room and out of earshot of Hart,
Will asked, “Does your boyfriend always have to ball up his fist every time he glares at me?”
Will opened the two suitcases on the bed and unpacked.
Placing the folded sheets on top of the dresser, I replied, “My boyfriend can do whatever he needs to do in order to make this situation bearable for himself.”
He stopped unpacking and faced me. “I hear ya. Loud and clear.”
“Let me know if you need anything or can’t find anything.”
“Bryson, I know it’s been a while but I did use to live here.” He smirked.
“Yeah . . . well . . . I gotta go start dinner. Hart, Colin, and Sophie are staying. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
“Thanks. I’ll consult my dick and balls to see if they feel safe enough to venture out of the room.”
A soft chuckle escaped me. “They’re just watching out for me.”
He nodded in acknowledgment.
I made it to the door before the sound of Will’s voice stopped me.
“Bryson?”
Standing in the doorway, I faced him. “Yeah?”
“I’m glad you have people like them in your life.”
Smiling, I said, “Me too.”
I made dinner while Hart, Colin, and Sophie watched a football game. As usual Sophie offered to help and as usual I said no. She didn’t push, knowing that being in the kitchen gave me solace. I made an easy roasted chicken and dressing casserole, serving it alongside cranberry relish.
I couldn’t tell if being around Hart made Will mad, sad, or embarrassed. Eventually he came out of his room and joined us for dinner. As I dished out the chicken casserole, it crossed my mind how surreal this felt having dinner with my boyfriend and my soon-to-be ex-husband. A knot formed in my stomach the second after the thought flashed across my brain. I’d been referring to Will as my soon-to-be ex while I waited for him to sign the divorce papers. But now with our arrangement he’d become my ex once he was dead.
After dinner, Sophie volunteered herself and Colin for cleanup duty, much to his disappointment. She was one-of-a-kind awesome, willing to cut a dick or scrub a pot all in the name of friendship. Looking exhausted, Will went to his room while Hart and I snuck off to the home office for some alone time.
Hart parked himself beside the overstuffed burgundy leather chair I was curled up in. He sandwiched my hand between both of his. We spent the first few seconds nose to nose just looking at each other. I loved every minute with Hart but some of my favorites were the silent ones when we communicated only through sensations. During these moments our souls connected.
“Stay with me tonight,” I whispered against his lips.
“You know I can’t.”
I was still amazed that there were times when I forgot Hart was in a wheelchair. Months ago one of my big goals was to stay in this house but now I couldn’t wait to get out of it and into a place where Hart could come and go freely.
Lifting my hand to his lips, he nibbled on my first finger. “You could come to my place.” As he nibbled on my second finger, he gently sucked on the tip, causing goose bumps to ripple over my skin. “Butter would love to have you spend the night.” He brushed his lips over my third and fourth fingers.
“I have missed Butter.”
“Then it’s settled.” He leaned in, continuing the nibble fest along my jaw.
My eyes closed as I tilted my head to the side, giving Hart total access to my neck. “Thank you for being in my life.” I sighed.
The more his lips traveled over my body the more I wanted to feel his bare skin against mine. Just as I was on the verge of getting completely lost in Hart the clearing of a throat ricocheted off the walls. I looked up to find Will standing at the edge of the room. Not acknowledging our visitor, Hart lowered his forehead on my shoulder.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Will said.
“Can I help you with something?” My voice was husky from the mini make out session.
“I was trying to connect to the internet but you must have changed the password.”
My insides cringed remembering how betrayed I felt by Will’s online activities.
“The password is butterlover, no space and no caps.”
Hart knowingly squeezed my knee.
“Thanks.” Will stared at me and Hart for a second longer before turning to leave.
“Oh, Will.”
He turned to face me. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to spend the night at Hart’s.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Hart lifted his head and glared at Will. “It’s the best fucking idea anyone has come up with all day.”
“I’m not trying to cause trouble. Really, I’m not. It’s just that, it’s my first night here. It might be better for us to establish a routine in case anyone is watching. After that we can find wiggle room for other things.”
“Will, don’t you think you’re being a bit paranoid and overdramatic?”
“Bryson, my parents were beyond pissed when they found out I’d withdrawn all the money from my 401K. I wouldn’t put much past them. Look, I’m not saying this is permanent. I’ll be dead soon.” He was trying to break the tension but failed miserably.
Hart leaned closer to me. “It’s okay.”
“No it’s not. I don’t want you to leave.”
“I’m not leaving. I’m just going to my place.”
Even though my confidence had been rebuilt on a firm foundation I still had moments of doubts. Hart read me like a book and knew the exact words to say to put me at ease. After Will went back to his room, I said goodbye to Hart, Colin, and Sophie. As I headed upstairs to my bedroom I thought about Hart and Will’s day-long pissing contest and wondered if this arrangement would do more harm than good.
Living with someone after being on your own for months was an adjustment. When that someone was your ex/pretend husband there was just no adjusting to that situation. The first week I found myself forgetting Will was in the house at times. At first I thought I was having some sort of mental hiccup due to stress. I mean, how do you block out another human being living under the same roof? I chalked it up to my brain being full. There’s only so much the organ can hold before certain bits of information get lost in the shovel.
My forgetfulness resulted in me being startled twenty-three times week one. The police got involved during episode one. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of clinking coming from downstairs. I thought it was someone trying to break through a window. It turned out to be Will hitting the side of the mayo jar with a knife trying to get the last little bit out for his turkey sandwich.
I wasn’t trying to avoid Will necessarily but I also wasn’t going out of my way to spend time with him either. Even though I worked hard not to have any animosity toward him, at times I struggled. Hart supported me in my decision to let Will come back but he wasn’t a fan of the situation which was another reason why I limited time with my new roommate. And with the holidays right around the corner most of my time was spent at Good Eats, so in a way it was all working out.
When Will and I did find ourselves in the same room, we didn’t speak much. It always felt like so much needed to be said, that neither of us knew where to start. So we didn’t, until we did.
Pinning my hair in a messy up-do, I groggily shuffled into the kitchen in search of my morning fuel.
“Good morning.” Will was leaning back against the counter sipping his coffee, already dressed in worn jeans, a white T-shirt under a blue flannel long-sleeve shirt, and a pair of dark brown Rockports.
My insides startled a little at the sound of his voice.
I tied the sash around my robe and headed toward the cabinet to grab a mug. “Good morning.”
“I already have one poured for you.”
Glancing his way, I saw the ready-made cup of coffee beside him.
I lifted the black gold to my mouth and took a tentative sip. “How did you know I was coming down?”
&
nbsp; “I was upstairs and heard you moving around in our . . . I mean, your bedroom. I’ve been up for hours . . . couldn’t sleep.”
“What were you doing upstairs?” The words came out harsher than I intended.
“I wanted to look in the second bedroom.”
The second bedroom, a.k.a. what would have been the nursery. I’d finally emptied it out months ago. Packing up all the baby’s things, I had it repainted to cover up the row of color samples that had lined one of the walls. It was wasted space, really. I never stepped inside and kept the door closed.
“You cleared it out.” There was a hint of surprise in his voice.
“The furniture and the things our parents gave the baby are packed away in the attic. All the other stuff I donated.”
An awkward silence fell between us. I took a long sip of coffee before going on guard.
“Listen, we discussed ground rules. One of them being space. You have yours and I have mine. There’s really no reason for you to be upstairs.”
It felt weird telling Will certain areas were off limits to him in his own house. After he moved out it was easy for me to make the transition from this is ours to this is mine. Now that he was back the line was murky. Technically this was still his house. He’d been paying the mortgage while I continued to live in it.
Raising one hand in surrender, he said, “True. I apologize. It was nothing more than a sleepless night and an active mind. I just wanted to see the room one last time.”
Will seemed to get over losing the baby with ease a lot quicker than I did. I may have been overly suspicious of his motives. It just seemed odd after all this time for him to act like a heartbroken father. I searched his eyes trying to detect whether or not he was playing the pity card but all I saw was sadness and sincerity.
Another round of awkward silence settled in the air.
I walked to the breakfast bar and chose a peaches and cream muffin from the basket. Nancy encouraged me to practice my baking skills. She had become a great mentor, taking me under her wing and teaching me all aspects of the catering business. Good Eats catered a lot of corporate breakfasts and Nancy was always looking for something to add to that menu. I’d been testing this recipe for a couple of weeks, trying to come up with just the right consistency.
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