He smiled softly. “Free.”
Tears stung her eyes.
“I feel free, peanut, for the first time in my life. And now I know that I’m free to be myself without worrying about losing my father. Losing my family. The only shitty part is that… is that I’ve lost you.”
She shook her head softly. “You haven’t lost me, Milo.”
He drew in a sharp breath. “I haven’t?”
“Never. Not by my choice, anyway.”
“I’m really sorry, Viola. You were right all along. I should’ve just told my family the truth, but instead, I decided to be a coward. Such a coward that I completely disregarded what you wanted. What you needed. What you deserve. You told me how you felt about Jon and I disregarded it. I had no right to ask you to ignore your heart. I was wrong. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” She took a deep breath. “And it’s not your fault that it didn’t work out with Jon. It’s my fault. He was right. I lied to him, and that’s unforgivable.”
Milo shifted. “I actually got a visit from him too.”
Viola’s heart ground to a stop. “From Jon?”
The madness that instantly ensued in her body must’ve shown itself on her face as well because whatever Milo saw in her eyes at that moment caused him to smile widely.
“He apologized for not being there for me when we were kids,” Milo said. “For not being a better big brother. And I apologized to him too, for not being a better little brother. For almost losing him the love of his life, just like I almost lost you yours.”
Viola went to remind Milo that she and Jon hadn’t almost lost each other, they had lost each other, but the words got caught in her throat when Milo took a step to the side and looked toward the door. And the words disappeared completely when the bell above the restaurant dinged, and Jon stepped inside.
The moment their eyes locked across the room, Jon froze in mid-step, lingering motionless in the doorframe long enough to let the cold air in and earn him poisonous looks from every diner in the restaurant.
“Close the fucking door, asshole!” a random voice shouted.
And, just like that, Viola was no longer the only belligerent psycho in the joint.
Jon stepped inside, unaware or unmoved by the profane tirade that several people in the restaurant were now throwing his way. Unaware, also, of their poisonous looks, since he had eyes for only one.
Viola stood from her seat, suddenly deeply regretting what a slob she’d been during that entire meal as she looked down at the dozens of soy sauce stains on the front of her sweater. Not exactly leading lady material even though the man coming toward her at that moment looked like a damn movie star. He was wearing a long, black, wool trench coat that had been cut into a snapped collar, which only drove home the James Dean-esque beauty he was exhibiting right then.
Viola held her breath as he came to a stop in front of her. Close enough to touch. She wanted to speak but didn’t have the courage. She suddenly understood better than ever the fear Milo must’ve been feeling since the moment that whole rollercoaster had begun. A fear poignant enough to make a person more willing to stop living their lives completely than face the pain of rejection from the people they cared about most.
At that moment, Jon had the power to crush her.
When he took a deep breath, and she heard it shaking, however, Viola couldn’t help but wonder if she had that same power over him too.
“I’m sorry—”
“I fucked up—”
They both breathed out a laugh when they spoke at the same time. Their heads fell for a moment, and when Viola looked back up, his eyes were locked to hers once more.
“Viola…” A lump moved down his throat. “I’ve had a lot of really high highs and a lot of really low lows in my life, but I’ve never known a low quite as low as the one I felt when I realized I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.”
Viola came to her toes, tears stabbing her eyes.
“I should’ve just listened to you that day. But instead, I did what I do best. I ran. I was so down, so desperate, and so broken from the hurt I felt over my family, that I couldn’t help but drag you down with me—”
“No, Jon, it was all my fault. I should’ve told you the truth sooner—”
“Just, let me finish.” He held his hands out and took a step closer. Close enough to accidentally brush the tips of his fingers against her stomach.
A blast of blinding light went through her even at that gentle touch.
“Three weeks ago, I believed the only thing in the world that could heal me—that could fix me—was my father finally loving me. Wanting me. Looking at me and seeing something… good. I wanted so badly to be good for him that I didn’t even notice when I started wanting it even more for you. I made amends with him yesterday, and it was crazy because after wanting it for so long, it hit me that I still wasn’t happy. That the only piece still missing was you. You, V. The only person alive who gives me the same rush on solid ground as I get being on stage. Or with the engine full throttle on my bike. The one in a million woman I’ve always secretly hoped for but never believed could actually exist.” He took a deep, heaving breath, took another step forward, and cupped her cheeks. “The only woman I’ve ever loved, so much, that I was willing to risk losing everything just to have one touch. One taste. The one woman on Earth with a heart so pure, she could set aside her own happiness to protect her best friend. My baby brother. I couldn’t see that the whole time, you were just trying to protect him. To protect me. To protect all of us—my whole family.”
Viola placed her hands on his waist and curled her fingers into fists, taking handfuls of his sweater.
“Without you, my family would’ve never been forced to face our biggest fears. Our hardest truths. Without you, we would’ve never had the courage to take the first step toward something better. Something real. Something good. My family loves you. My brother loves you. I love you. You’re the love of my life, V.” His eyes danced across her face, a soft smile picking up his lips. “And, if you’ll have me, I promise you there’s no woman alive that I could ever, or will ever, love more.”
She drew in a sharp, trembling breath.
His voice lowered. “Will you have me?”
Viola answered with her lips, wrapping her arms around his neck and coming up to her toes to cover his own a passionate kiss. Jon moaned into the embrace, his arms instantly slinging around her waist, pulling her in, and taking her off her feet.
The entire restaurant broke into applause as they embraced, tilting their heads and deepening the kiss. Viola knew her fellow patrons were only clapping because the uptight crazy woman who’d been ruining their dinner all evening was finally going to be placated with a much-needed dick in the pussy, but she lied to herself and decided to pretend she was the star of her own romance movie instead.
A movie that was ending in a happily ever after that, once upon a time, she’d never felt herself worthy of. A happily ever after that she believed only existed in movies, for the beautiful, untouchable women being worshipped beyond the screen. An ending meant for a princess, a movie star, any other woman but herself.
That ending was hers now.
And it was all thanks to him.
Jon fuckin’ Baca.
Epilogue
Silent Night
Holy Night
All is calm
All is bright
Round yon virgin
Mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
“Oh my God, I love this song!” Viola raced across the marble floors of the massive living room, the vaulted ceilings wall-to-wall with Christmas decorations, and skidded to a stop in her socked feet at the entertainment center’s state-of-the-art radio, turning up the volume.
With the Moore family scattered on the white leather couches in front of the Christmas tree on the other side of the livin
g room, Viola decided to do a little dance just for them, holding her hands up in her red pajamas as if she was being led in a waltz with a male ballroom dancer. Then she began a slow sway to the sultry Christmas tune, doing dramatic sweeps and spins as she went, bringing a whole new meaning to the term ‘dancing with myself’.
“Jon, look at her,” Mary bopped Jon’s arm with a giggle from where he was sitting next to her on the couch, still half asleep. “How adorable is she? How can you resist? Go dance with your girl!”
“I don’t know her,” Jon mumbled, obviously still coming down from the shock of being shaken awake at the crack of dawn—along with the rest of the house—by baby Beau on Christmas morning.
Betty sat half asleep on the rocking chair across from the couch, smiling tenderly at Jackson and Beau sitting on the floor, ripping into their presents like wild animals. Somehow, the family had managed to convince her to let the kids open their presents before eating breakfast that year, and the pure exuberance in their eyes was infectious, spreading all the way across the room to their grandmother, who appeared so pleased with their happiness that Viola was sure she’d never force her grandsons to endure that gut-churning wait to open gifts again.
Robert was on the couch next to Mary, wearing red plaid pajamas—along with the rest of the family—just like they’d planned. Mary had insisted that the Christmas photos would be that much more adorable if they were all matching, and the men of the house had begrudgingly agreed just to make her happy.
Still swaying to the music with her eyes closed, Viola squealed in shock when she felt a pair of arms around her waist, but far too low for it to have been Jon. When she looked down and locked eyes with Beau, who’d grown almost half a foot taller since the last time she’d seen him, she couldn’t help the gleaming smile that crossed her face.
Beau offered her both of his hands, still rocking his signature round Harry Potter glasses, apparently happy to stand in as her dance partner where his big brother refused.
“Oh la la,” Viola purred in a French accent, placing her hands in Beau’s and continuing the languid sway, all while shooting Jon an accusatory look. “What a gentleman.”
Jon raised an eyebrow at her. “Do I know you?”
Viola and Beau continued to slow dance as the family looked on, their socked feet sliding across the marble floors with ease. Jon had redone the floors on every level of the three-story mansion in Yalecrest the moment he’d taken it off the market, several months earlier. After taking the home off the market, he’d sold it to his father for a grand total of $1 and had wanted the house to be in tiptop shape once his family moved in. And it had been. Finished just in time for Christmas. Though the log cabin in the mountains would remain in the family forever, they were now renting it out, at a fraction of its cost, to a single mother from the center run by Viola’s mother. With four kids and a minimum wage job, her family would surely cherish and appreciate every inch of the old cabin as much as the Moores had over the generations.
Viola shrieked when, upon doing a spin of his own, Beau accidentally elbowed her in a very unfortunate place.
“Ow! Easy, Beau!” she cried, crossing her arms over her lower body like an x. “That’s my vagina!”
Beau froze in mid-spin, gaping up at her with an appalled gasp. “That’s so rude, Viola!”
Viola straightened, eyes stunned, horror-stricken.
“We finally got it into his head that it’s rude to point out other people’s penis’ and vagina’s,” Mary said with a laugh. “Let’s just say it’s saved us a lot of uncomfortable exchanges at the playground.”
“Well, I can’t lie, your timing could’ve been better,” Viola put her hands on her hips and looked down at Beau. “Where was all this penis and vagina outrage last Christmas, Beau? That’s what I’d like to know.”
Laughter rang out all across the living room as Beau shrugged his shoulders and raced back across the room to the tree, where all of the gifts had been opened, and the floor was littered with strewn wrappers.
Every gift but one that is.
Jon stood from the couch, watching Viola intensely from the corner of his eyes as he made his way toward the tree. “Come here.”
Viola pointed to herself and then looked over her shoulder. Surely he was speaking to someone else. When she saw no one behind her, she swiveled to face him once more.
“Who, me? Thought you didn’t know me?”
“Just get your little ass over here,” he teased, looking up at her while lifting the last unopened gift from under the tree, a small box wrapped in paper that had the same red-plaid design as all their pajamas.
“Jon,” she chided, approaching him and taking the gift he offered, immediately ripping into it. “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to get each other anything this year. Don’t tell me you’re going to be one of those boyfriends that says he doesn’t really want a gift when he really does because I promise you I didn’t get you… anything…” Viola’s words slowed to a stop when she found a red velvet box awaiting her under the wrapping paper.
Only in that moment did she realized Jon was still on the floor, kneeling at her feet.
Her eyes shot all over the room, and the syrupy smiles on his family’s faces said it all. Even Beau had both his hands over his giggling mouth as if it had taken every last ounce of willpower in his little body to keep the secret for this long
Her wide eyes zoomed back to him. “Oh my God, it’s happening.”
He licked his lips. “Open it, please.”
With trembling fingers, she popped the box open, immediately clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle the scream that couldn’t help ripping up her throat. The cushion cut platinum engagement ring was not too big, not too small, and shiny enough to blind her as it gleamed up from the box like a sharp flash of sunlight.
“Viola fuckin’ Rice,” Jon ripped her attention away from the ring, his eyes hopeful as he gazed longingly up at her. “I’ve been wanting to ask you this question… since the very moment I laid eyes on you… and I’m the single luckiest man alive to get the chance to ask you today… Will you—”
“Yes!” Viola screamed, hopping up and down.
Laughter and applause rang out all over the living room as Jon stood tall, shaking his head at her impatience, and took the ring from the box. After sliding it on her finger, perfect fit, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her in. Just as their lips met—with family congratulations ringing in from all around—the doorbell rang.
Viola and Jon’s lips broke away from each other to frown toward the door. From the floor where he’d been entranced by his new iPad all morning, Jackson counted every member of the family with his pointer finger, realized everyone was present and accounted for, and then scowled toward the door as well.
“Who on Earth could that be?” Mary asked.
Robert moved to find the answer, walking across the room to the foyer, which was visible from the living area. The moment he opened the door, his face fell. A muffled male voice rang in from the other side, and Robert tilted his head with a roll of his eyes as if he couldn’t be less interested in whatever the man beyond that door had to say.
Still, something moved Robert to step aside and halfheartedly motion inside, inviting him in.
Viola recognized the knocker the moment he stepped inside, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.
“Mr. Washington?” Mary stood from the couch with her mouth hanging open.
Betty stood from her rocking chair, as well, knees shaking and eyes blubbery.
“Merry Christmas, everyone,” Mr. Washington said, his deep voice booming through the room like a speaker system. He carried a bouquet of red roses in his hand and a small gift in the other. “I hope my dropping in like this isn’t too invasive but…” His eyes shifted to the back of the room. “Betty.”
Betty’s breathing picked up as she placed a hand over her heart.
“I know you said you never wanted to see me again, but�
��” Mr. Washington took a deep breath. “I left my wife.”
Mary gasped and looked over her shoulder at Betty.
“What?” Betty breathed.
“I left my wife, Betty. And not just legally separated. Not anymore. I bit the bullet, and I told her that… that I finally met someone, after all these years, that really did something for me. The divorce was finalized just this week.”
Robert trudged back into the living room, cutting his eyes at Mr. Washington the whole way even though he was visibly defused by the news of the divorce.
“You’re the one I want, Betty. I love you—”
“Oh, Finnegan!” Betty cried, racing across the room as fast as her slippered feet allowed, coming to her toes and locking her lips to his.
“Gross,” Jackson hissed, going back to his iPad.
Viola and Jon locked eyes, silently mouthing, “Finnegan?”
In the many months since they’d caught Mr. Washington in bed with Betty, Viola had given him many names in her head. Tyrone. Jamal. Hakeem. But never Finnegan. Something about that name just didn’t fit.
What did fit, however, was the music of Betty’s relieved, heartfelt laughter, filling the living room, rising all the way to the top of the vaulted ceilings.
What fit even better was that gorgeous engagement ring, sitting nice and snug on Viola’s left finger. What fit was the deep love that filled that entire house, room to room, corner to corner, and would continue to fill it for years to come.
Even Milo fit perfectly, racing into the room, short of breath, getting one look at Viola’s ring finger—which she excitedly held up for him to see the moment he appeared—before throwing his arms out to his sides.
“I can’t believe you guys did it without me!” Milo cried. “I told you I was going to the bathroom and coming right back!”
“You’ve been gone for like an hour,” Jackson accused. “What were you even doing in there?”
“Honestly, I waited as long as I could, bro,” Jon said. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Milo looked to his left and did a double take, the offense vanishing from his eyes, replaced with stark confusion. “Mr. Washington?”
Refrain (Stereo Hearts Book 3) Page 32
