Beautifully Done

by Riley Mackenzie

  Now wide awake and obviously annoyed, she rolled away and scooted to the edge of the bed. Tagging her tank and pants, she covered her gorgeous body, the body I should have been exploring with my tongue. Shit. I fucked this up.

  Aimed straight for the window, she tugged open the curtains and stared into the rising sun. “You make it sound so easy. I wish it were.”

  Not the response I wanted, but at least she was finally engaging. Not to mention, it was that easy. I could have her moved and set up with a sick new office in two weeks. All right, I knew from Chase and from sitting on the hospital board that medical licensing and credentialing might take longer. Two months, tops. I bit my tongue, silently stewing, thinking I might want to hold off on interjecting my ideas.

  “It’s just … there’s more … I mean…” Her voice cracked and she ran both hands through her hair, squeezing her head.

  I was already up and out of bed turning her around by her shoulders. “Tal, I didn’t bring this up to upset you.” That was the last thing I expected. “I’ll say it again, I want you. Just you. Never thought I’d say that to a woman, but it’s the truth. I’m done. Done with meaningless sex, done with a life of no commitment, no obligation. Call me selfish, but I’m done with the distance, too. Actually, I hate it. That being said, I’ll take you any way I get you.”

  “You don’t think I hate it, too? I love what we have. I’m so happy. You make me happy. It’s just a big change, I can’t just pick up and leave … you just don’t get it … there’s more.”

  No, I didn’t get it. She admitted she loved what we have and she was happy. Argument was over in my book. Unless…

  “Do you trust me?”

  She stepped back, shock behind her eyes. “What?”

  “You heard me. Do you trust me?” It was a simple question and one I had asked before.

  “Of course I trust you. What kind of question is that?” Her answer was the same too.

  My arms fell from her shoulders when she began to pace. “A logical one. You just admitted you love this and you’re happy. So I’m having a hard time understanding the problem. Unless you don’t trust what I’ve just laid out for you, unless you think I’m the kind of guy that’s going to ask you to give up everything and play you-”

  “Don’t do that.” She shut me up momentarily.

  “Do what?” I barked back.

  So this was fighting. Aside from being frustrating as all hell, it was kind of hot.

  “Twist this around. You know I know exactly who you are, and you know I trust you. I’ve trusted you since I was nine years old. Not everything is cut and dry, as you’d like to say. Sometimes there’s more to consider.”

  “What more is there? I can’t read your mind, talk to me.” I raked my scalp, hard. “If you’re scared or nervous, you’re not alone, I want to help. I want you and I want this. I’m determined to make this work more than anything in my life, Tal.” Damn, I sounded like the woman. She had me practically begging. “Let me be the person you turn to for everything … and for nothing. What do I need to do to be that person?”

  I was desperate to break through to her. She was shutting down, and for some reason I knew this wasn’t nerves. This had nothing to do with being scared. My TP was fearless.

  “I can’t do this right now.” She stalked toward the bathroom, pausing at the jamb to look over her shoulder. “I have somewhere I need to be.”

  What the hell, my flip switched. Where? She was here a day early for a reason.

  “You don’t want to talk about it right now, we won’t. But it doesn’t mean I’m not gonna bring it up again. Actually, you can be sure as fuck I will.” I was fuming.

  “Thought the only time you weren’t a gentleman was in bed?” Her eyes matched mine.

  Bitch slap, direct hit. I might drop expletives in jest, but she was right, I never cursed at a woman in anger. Ever. Could be because this was the first time I was ever actually angry with a woman.

  “Maybe I thought we could have a conversation like two adults?” Maybe my tone was a bit harsh, but it was probably the most serious conversation I’ve ever had in my life with a woman and she walked away. I laid it on the line and she walked the FUCK away. What did I get myself into? Relationships—too goddamn complicated.

  With no response, she closed the bathroom door. I had zero practice with this shit. My instincts were to bang down the door and plead my case over and over. Then again, my argument was pretty explicit the first go round. Instead I took a deep breath to slow my pounding heart, the ball was in her court. This was her decision now. As angry as I was at what just transpired, I was even more pissed at myself for starting the whole damn episode. I ruined our morning (after a night that challenged the record books I might add) and put a strain on our relationship because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Son of a bitch. I’d always been the closed off and guarded guy and now I was open and exposed. I was questioning my change.

  I paced for several minutes; it did squat. I dropped to the floor. A hundred and fifty push-ups did less. The shower water continued to beat against the tile and all I really wanted to do was strip down and join her. But I wasn’t stupid enough to think that would fly. I needed a solid hour with the bag to work out some of this energy. I glanced at the clock. I had to be at the office by nine to deal with a huge client—Fred-fucking-Flintstone to be exact, followed by a mandatory hospital board meeting at eleven. Shit, the gym wasn’t an option either. Back to being a gentleman, I used the guest room shower. How was that for irony? This whole time I thought she was only a chapter behind and slowly catching up, but now I wondered if she was reading a completely different book. Maybe a move wasn’t ever in her plan. Maybe a long distance relationship was enough for her. What the hell ever happened to ticking clocks and shit like that? Oh right, she wasn’t like every other woman. Fucking irony. We cordially left my apartment a little after eight. Before we went our separate ways, she suggested we continue our conversation tonight. I hoped for the chapter.

  “How was Stowe, good powder? Blue said you brought Talia with you, seems serious.”

  I stopped by Chase’s office after my board meeting.

  “Yeah, it was fine, good, whatever.” I was distracted, replaying our fight from this morning. It was a fight, right? I didn’t know. I didn’t do fucking fights. My mind swirled. Are we serious? Good question. “Sorry man, got a lot on my plate. Work’s been insane, Dad seems to be getting worse, and yeah, Tal and I are getting closer.” Unsure why, I was still a little hesitant about talking about Talia with him. It was odd, but even more odd was the fact that he and Tal hadn’t seen each other yet. Especially since his wife and Talia hit it off and were occasionally texting back and forth for a few weeks now.

  “His confusion more noticeable?”

  “More than that. His cognitive function significantly deteriorated. He was in the wrong year, bouncing between the past and present. Happened in Vermont, in front of all of us, Maggie, my sisters, Tal. Thankfully, my nieces weren’t home at the time because Molly fucking lost it.”

  “Ah shit, Ash. Sorry, man. Wish they were making better advances with the disease progression. Most of the research is still focused on early detection.”

  When Chase got uncomfortable, he got all medical. My father considered him a second son, and vice versa. This blow cut Chase almost as deep. He knew better than the rest of us that research wasn’t making any difference. At least not for Dad’s case. It was too late; we’d entered the beginning of the end.

  “How’d Maggie handle it?”

  “You know Ma, she was upset, shaken at first, but Talia completely took over the situation and calmed everyone down. I’m not sure if we would have gotten through it without her.” It was the truth. She was amazing with my family. She was amazing, period.

  “Talia?” he questioned.

  I wasn’t planning on saying anything, but I blurted it anyway. “When Dad saw Talia, he thought she was Kimi. Even asked where you were.”

&n
bsp; There was a time, pre-Lil, when I steered clear of all topics Kim with Chase (unless it was KimCore related). He’d come a long way.

  “Oh wow, okay.” He seemed as shocked as we all were. “Fuck.”

  “Yup.” I was done with this conversation. I sure as hell didn’t feel like fucking rehashing it. I wasn’t sure why I even brought it up in the first place. “Listen, hitting the gym later, you free to go a few rounds? Say four?”

  He glanced down at his computer, clicked a few buttons. “Yeah, see you there.” He didn’t push any further. We had an unspoken understanding. He got it, he knew what it was like to beat the shit out of himself more times to count over the last couple of years.

  I took the stairs two at a time, not caring that I was in my suit, and stopped on the third floor to grab a coffee from the Starbucks cart. The morning’s fiasco killed java time. I also bought Suzie the disgusting latte she loved and continued down the clinic corridor to the back staircase leading to the parking garage. I had a shitload of work back at the office—including the Flintstone deal—to bury myself under and hopefully distract me this afternoon.

  Did I say distraction? At the far end of the hall, Talia tapped away, focused on her iPhone screen. I stopped mid-stride. An unexpected but pleasant surprise. She actually never mentioned where she was going this morning, but then again we said all of two words to each other after we showered. I was a dick. This had to mean she was exploring her options. Visions of our heated conversation became an instant blur, as my new focus was her ass and legs in her light gray tailored trousers, short blazer, and heels. Like an idiot, a smile crept up on my face. I passed the stairs and continued down the long corridor. It was time to make nice. I needed to apologize. I was an ass this morning.

  Several clinic doors down, it dawned on me. I rarely came from this direction. I actually made a point to avoid it, but I was familiar enough to know that dermatology was the other direction and not here. My heart lurched and coffee slid back up my esophagus, burning my throat. Why was Tal standing in front of the oncology suite?

  “TP?”

  She spun on her heel at the sound of my voice. Her cheeks drained of all color and not in a you-startled-me way. She wrapped her arms around her waist as if she needed to support herself. My gut twisted and my appetite was gone.

  “What are you doing here, everything okay?” I decided not to jump to conclusions, even though my mind was spinning full throttle.

  “Yeah, fine,” she squeaked out.

  I needed to know what the hell was going on. Something was so wrong. The door opened and a tall young man walked out and joined our party of two. Dressed in a lab coat he concentrated on his handheld tablet. Talia’s eyes left mine and went to his.

  “Mom, you’re early.”

  I turned to look behind me. There were three of us standing in a very empty hallway. My eyes snapped back. What the fuck did he just say? There was no way. His eyes were aimed directly at Talia. The burn in the back of my throat intensified to the point of fire. My pulse skyrocketed as I pinballed between the two.

  “Um, Tack,” her voice cracked.

  My brain raced but obviously wasn’t processing fast enough. My focus finally settled on the doctor. No, he was too young to be a doctor. Equally confused, he looked straight at me. His fucking eyes nailed me worse than a double blow to the kidneys. I ceased to breathe as the pain became unbearable. I knew those eyes almost as well as I knew my own. I was staring into them not fucking ten minutes ago. No one else in this goddamn world had those grey eyes. I stepped back, refusing to believe what I saw. Talia hadn’t budged. Her jaw was open and her eyes bulged with who the hell knew what emotion. She looked like she saw a ghost. I was pretty sure I had.

  He extended his hand, breaking the thick and palpable silence. “Hey, I’m Tack. You obviously know my mom?”

  Obviously, I do not. I stood frozen several beats too long before I unconsciously tucked the extra latte under my arm and raised my hand to meet his grasp.

  “Asher.”

  “Great to meet you.” He turned toward his mother, his mother, and said, “Mom, I just need to stop by the research lab and have my mentor sign off on my hours. I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes. Do you mind?”

  She barely nodded in agreement. He kissed her cheek and lifted his chin in my direction, another all too familiar sight, and was gone.

  Tal’s mouth moved, but I heard nothing.

  “Don’t.” I raised the coffees in the air and slammed them into the trash nearby. “Just. Fucking. Don’t.” Yes, I cursed at her. Still trying to process what just went down, I stayed motionless and watched as tears streaked her cheeks. The last time I saw her cry like this was nineteen years ago. If this was what it was like to feel numb, I was paralyzed. Her shaking hand reached for my arm. “Don’t touch me.” I hissed between my locked jaw.

  “Asher, please-” Her voice quivered, low and broken. I could tell she was trying to hold it together. “Please, let me explain.”

  “No need. I’m done!”

  She gasped, pain seared over her expression. I didn’t care.

  I intentionally walked slowly toward the stairs and stopped. I yanked open the door, banged my fist against it, and uttered just loud enough for her to hear over her own sobs, “And I was worried you couldn’t trust me. Fucking joke.”

  I never looked back.

  Adrenaline coursed through my veins, sweat stung my blurry vision, and blood oozed from my torn knuckles as I punched the cylindrical bag repeatedly. The vision of Talia’s son burned in my brain. Talia and Chase’s son.

  Balance, cock, torque, strike. The son my best friend believed she aborted and then spent a decade torturing himself over.

  Balance, cock, torque, strike. Tack: the tattoo that had little to do with four best friends and everything to do with her son. ‘I regret plenty, this is not one of them.’

  Balance, cock, torque, strike. Her secrets unraveled one by one in my mind—mysterious phone calls and texts, including the random New Year’s ‘I love you’ scene—old roommate my ass, it was Tack.

  Balance, cock, torque, strike. Always too agreeable to fly here, making it obvious why she never wanted me to see her house, the one she shared with her son.

  Balance, cock, torque, strike. Befriending your son’s father’s wife. Shit, Lili.

  Balance, cock, torque, strike. Lies.

  Balance, cock, torque, strike. My punches were coming faster and stronger. All of it, lies.

  Balance, cock, torque, strike. Nineteen years of lies.

  Balance, cock, torque, strike.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  I sucked in a deep breath but the oxygen had little effect on my burning lungs. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  Chase wasn’t amused with my response. His problem, not mine.

  “Last time I checked, you could tell time.”

  I glanced at the gym clock overhead. “Yeah, well, I didn’t feel like waiting until four.” Two hours felt like ten minutes. I unwrapped the blood soaked towel from my hands and drained my water bottle.

  Chase glared at me with those fucking eyes. “Any chance you want to talk about what’s eating you?”

  “Nope.” I didn’t. I couldn’t. Besides how the hell did I tell him I just met the son he didn’t know he had?

  “You have anything left?” Taking note, Chase looked almost as pissed as I felt. I knew him well enough to not even bother asking.

  I raised my chin toward the ring and said, “Let’s do it.”

  Forty minutes later we were sitting on the bench, drenched, catching our breath. I was mentally no better. Forty minutes of beating the shit out of one another and I was still breathing fire and battling the burn beneath my chest.

  Chase started talking at the cement floor. “Lil came by the hospital right after you left. Remember that douchebag that she testified against and helped put away last year, that child abuse case from her hometown?” Hard to forget that scu
mbag’s lawyer. In an effort to discredit Lil, he exposed the fact that she was brutally raped years earlier in front of a room of gawking strangers and Chase. That was the last time Chase and I traded three minute rounds for ten minutes and ended up looking like we did right now.

  “Yeah.” I remembered.

  “The asshole’s up for parole. She’s heading home next week to speak at the hearing. Not to mention one of the families she’s been working with sent her threatening mail. I’m not fucking thrilled about either. And you know her, totally unfazed. Just part of the job. Chalking it up to an extra visit with her father. Taking Sierra and Layla with her, like it’s a goddamn vacation.”

  He shook his head in disapproval. I couldn’t blame him. The only reason Chase was even tolerating the idea of her stepping foot back in her hometown was because the douchebag lawyer and the ex-boyfriend that violated her now spent their days tossing ribs a thousand miles away. We made sure of that.

  “So fill me in … little confused here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m tempted to put my fist through a wall every time I think about what Lil’s been through. But you said it yourself—she’s made of steel. So do you want to explain why you almost let me break your nose?” This uncharacteristic heart to heart served as a better distraction than two and a half hours of self-torture.

  Chase bent over, elbows to knees, eyes still on the floor, hands raking his hair. Not a good sign. “She can’t let it go. As many times as I’ve tried to convince her we’re enough. She can’t.”

  I sighed, searching for some inner strength. It was all spent. This day couldn’t get any more twisted. He was really about to confide in me about their fertility issues. Now. Like right fucking now. This was another one of life’s sick jokes. Approximately three hours and twelve minutes ago, I accepted the fact that Chase and I had an intense, life-changing conversation coming down the pike. That was about five minutes after I shook his son’s hand. No way I would ever keep this from him. But right now it was too raw and he had a lot of shit on his plate.