Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (Eight Fun, Romantic Novels by Eight Bestselling Authors)

by Violet Duke

  With a shaky voice, she exhales. “My-my mom called me. She…told…tol-told me that my dad committed suicide yesterday.”

  Dear God. I pull her to me and hug her tightly. Holding on to her, I feel the overwhelming grief over the loss of a father she never even knew, who had no interest in knowing her, only hurting her. The problem is, your father is still your father.

  After several minutes, I force her green eyes to meet mine. “I’m so sorry, Fran. But listen to me. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t push him to this. He had severe issues and…”

  Fran stops me mid-sentence. “I’m not crying because I blame myself, Gabby. I’m crying because I’m relieved that he can never hurt me again. I’m fucking relieved because he’s dead. My own father. Isn’t that sick?”

  The tears start, and they don’t stop. I’m crying, too: for her, for her mom, even for her dad, who made his own decision. We sit together for what feels like hours, until Fran’s tears subside. I lift her chin and look into those beautiful green eyes. “Fran, your father hurt you in horrible, unthinkable ways. He was never a real father to you. We’re brought into this world helpless and innocent, with nothing but love and trust for our parents. Your father took that away from you, and took advantage of that love. He didn’t deserve your love. So, no, you’re not sick.”

  She lets out a long, cleansing sigh. “I love you, Gabby.”

  “I love you, too, Fran.”

  Fran and I didn’t watch movies tonight or eat junk food. But we did have our girls’ night. Two girls who care about each other more than life, shut out the world and cocooned themselves with the strength and love of one another.

  When Fran’s finally asleep in my bed, I slip out to get a drink. My heart feels so weighted. She didn’t deserve to have such a shitty father.

  I take a seat on the sofa, curl up under a blanket and grab my book, feeling the need to get lost, even for just a little while. Concentrating on the book isn’t even an option. I can’t stop thinking about Fran’s dad, about Clark, and about the source of disappointment I am to my parents. That’s when the tears start to fall. It’s then that I hear my phone buzz. It’s Brad.

  “Hi, baby.” The sound of his voice soothes me.

  My shoulders slump down. “I’m so glad you called.”

  “What’s wrong? You sound like you’re crying?” He’s immediately concerned. He really cares about me.

  “It’s Fran.”

  “What about Fran?” His sincerity warms my heart.

  I pull the blanket high up to my chest, as if it can shield me from the nightmares of the world. “She found out today that her dad committed suicide.” It feels so good to let it out and tell Brad.

  “God, Gabby. How is she?”

  “She’s sleeping now, but it’s been a rough night.”

  “Do you want me to come home?”

  I want to say yes, but I know he’ll be home tomorrow. “No, it’s okay.”

  “Will you tell Fran that I’m thinking about her?”

  “Of course.”

  “You okay, baby?”

  I’ll be much better when you come home. “Yeah. I just feel so bad for Fran, you know? She didn’t deserve any of this.”

  “I know.”

  “How are your meetings going?” I ask, desperate for a change of subject.

  “Good, except I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. Oh, I have some good news, though. I went to Parsons The New School for Design today to talk about their Master’s program.”

  “That’s great! How did it go?” His enthusiasm gives me so much self-confidence.

  “Really well. It’s given me a lot to think about. They actually have an information night next Wednesday, and I might go.”

  “Well, if you want some company, I’d love to come along. Remember how much you love my apartment? I do have a knack for design, after all.” I hear the smile in his voice and it makes me smile, too.

  “I’d like that.”

  “So I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay. Hey, Brad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve been feeling really bad about some of the things my mom said to you at dinner the other day.”

  “Don’t feel bad. You’re not responsible for your mom. You’re completely separate from her. In fact, I think she’s actually from another planet.”

  His dig makes me giggle, but does nothing to ease my guilt. “She was just so freaking condescending.”

  “Baby, I’ve heard a lot worse. Anyway, it’s just life, right?”

  Clark bumped my shoulder and shrugged his. “It’s just life, right?”

  All the blood drains from my body and I go silent.

  “Gabby?”

  Nothing.

  “Gabby? You still there?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Dream of me, okay.”

  “Okay. Goodnight.”

  My face feels wet and my nose is dripping. Running to the bathroom, I splash cold water over my face. My heart is beating fiercely and I can’t control my breathing. Bending over the sink, I lean down on my knees. It feels like I’m choking. There’s a lump in my throat and I’m struggling for air. Breathe, Gabby, breathe. I exhale a harsh breath. Jesus. It’s been well over three years, but I still see his face, feel his presence, and yearn for him like it was yesterday. Brad’s words. Clark’s words. This has to be a sign. I was supposed to be with Clark. He was my happily ever after. But dammit, he’s dead and I’m very much alive. I’m supposed to feel dead inside, but I’m starting to feel life. I just can’t.

  I’m getting too close. I can’t do this. I’ll end up losing him, just like I’ve lost everyone else. I look down at my courage bracelet and watch a single teardrop fall.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  THE SUN WAKES me up the next morning, and for the first time in a while I’m not smiling. My eyes are puffy and my body feels stiff. I can barely drag myself out of bed. There’s nothing to look forward to today. My insides are twisting at the thought of what I need to do. I just hope I’m strong enough to do it.

  I’m on my way to Brad’s apartment, pushing through the millions of bodies in the subway. I see no faces. Everything is blank. Just how I feel.

  When he opens the door and I see his face, I almost lose it. He pulls me close and for a second I tell myself everything will be okay. But I know that’s a lie.

  Brad kisses me tenderly. “I missed you, baby.”

  I pull back and stare into those penetrating brown eyes, my brain running wild, my heart beating crazily against my chest. Sweat drips from my brow and I’m afraid I can’t do this. I have to do this. How did I even let this happen? Everything was perfect in my controlled little world, even though somewhere deep inside I was imploding, my organs stretching until I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t even realize how numb I was until Brad came along. He brought it all to the surface and I just want to stuff it back down. It’s easier not to feel; feeling leaves you vulnerable to so much pain.

  He strokes my hair gently. Lovingly. “You look like you’ve been crying. What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me. Is Fran okay?”

  “She’s okay,” I mumble. “Kyle’s with her.”

  “That’s good,” he says, sighing into my hair.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I have to do this. I couldn’t bear it if he ever left me. I have to walk away before he does. Taking Brad’s hand, I lead him over to the couch.

  All the color drains from his face.

  The tears are threatening now and my
breath is coming fast. “Brad, I think we need some space.” His eyes go wide, but I continue. “You’re…well, you’re amazing and wonderful and witty. You’re kind and sweet. You make me smile.”

  He interrupts me, holding his hand up. “Stop. Don’t do this.”

  “Let me talk, Brad.” I rush the words out as fast as I can. “I’ve never felt so much before. For a long time, I shut off my feelings because it hurt too much. Somehow, you found your way into my heart. But…”

  “Gabby. I don’t want space. You don’t know what you’re saying. I want you. I…I care about you so much.”

  I look down at my hands, the pain filling his eyes too much to bear.

  Brad lifts my chin to his, not letting me break eye contact. His hands cradle my face. “How can you think this will be better for me, Gabby? Better for us? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I know what you’re doing. You’re not giving me space, you’re walking away! Dammit, Gabby, I’m not going to let you walk out of my life. You don’t freaking get it! I was dead inside before I met you. You awakened something in me, and if you think I’m letting you walk out of my life, you’re more insane than I am. If you want space, I’ll give you that, but I’m gonna fight like hell for you. With every breath that I have, I’ll fight for you.”

  I push him away and stand up, trying to put some distance between us. “Brad. Just stop. You have to listen to me.”

  “No, I don’t. You listen to me now,” he demands, moving towards me. He rakes his hands through his hair and begins pacing the blue shag with heavy feet. “I get it. I really do. I know you’ve pushed away feeling for so long. You want to stay numb; it’s easier that way. That’s how I was, too. First after my mom, and then Clara, I shut down and wouldn’t let anybody in. Then, one day, I woke up and realized that they wouldn’t want me to die inside. They’d want me to be happy. They’d want me to live. So I honor their memories by living, by being happy.

  “It’s not that…” But he’s right, it is.

  He stops pacing and grabs my hands in his. “I know you miss Clark. But he wouldn’t want you to shut down, Gabby. He’d want you to live your life, to find happiness again.”

  I choke back my anger and twist my body away from him. I don’t want him to see me. “No, Brad, I don’t know what he wants, because he’s dead!”

  A shocked look overtakes Brad’s face. I might as well have slapped him.

  Teardrops continue to crash to the floor and break apart, just like my heart. I want to run. I want to hide. Mostly, I want to scream. I want to scream at all the people who’ve ever hurt me. I want to yell at my parents, who always expected me to be something I’m not; for not loving me, unconditionally, no matter my choices. I want to yell at my sister for not being there for me, not loving me enough. But mostly, I want to scream at Clark for leaving me that night, for not taking me with him.

  Brad grabs my arm and spins me around, tears rolling silently down his cheeks. “Gabby, please don’t do this. I can’t bear the thought of being without you. You’re too important to me. I need you so much.”

  “Let me go, Brad. You have to let me go!”

  There’s only one other person I’ve felt this way about in my entire life. Now, the thought of not being with Brad makes me want to curl up in a little ball in a corner and just stay there. With one touch, with one word, with one breath, he can unravel me. I’ve worked so hard up to this point not to let anyone get too close to me. Tears are falling down my shirt and soaking the carpet. I hold on to Brad so I can imprint him in my memory, then I pull away. The door is inches from me now. All I have to do is walk through it. I can do this. The carpet moves beneath my feet and the door creaks open.

  “Dammit, Gabby. Don’t fucking do this! You can’t do this!”

  I take one enormous breath, and without so much as a look back, walk over the threshold. The door closes, and just like that my heart slams against my chest and I know I’ll never be the same. I hear a loud crashing sound and the echo of shattered glass; it mimics my heart.

  I stumble with shaky legs down the hallway and out to the street, a burst of cool air smacking me in the face. I need Fran. Frantically, I dig through the clutter in my purse and pull out my phone. It’s ringing, and I’m silently praying she’s there.

  Thankfully, she picks up, her usual, perky self. “Hey, sweetie!”

  A sob betrays me. “Fran, are you at home? I really need you.”

  “Gabby, what is it? Why are you crying? What happened, honey?”

  The tears come, but the words don’t.

  With a fierce resolve, Fran says, “I’m here, honey. Kyle just left. I’m not going anywhere.”

  My trembling legs barely carry me to the subway. I feel eyes all over me as tears crawl down my mascara-smeared cheeks, and I’m silently telling them all to fuck off. Squeezing my eyes shut, I suck into myself and pray that no one touches me. Tonight, I won’t be responsible for my actions.

  When Fran opens the door to and sees my face, she says nothing, just pulls me forward and holds me while I sob in her arms. We stand there for several minutes until the tears subside. She takes my hand and leads me to her bedroom, then sits me down and removes my shoes. After fluffing up her pillow, she pulls the duvet over me. Kneeling on the bed next to me, she takes my hand in hers. “Talk to me, Gabby. Tell me what happened.”

  “I broke Brad’s heart, that’s what happened. I told him I needed space. But I’m really letting him go.”

  With concern in her voice, she sighs, “Oh, Gabby.” She strokes my hair. “Why would you do that, honey? I know how much you care about him, and you’d have to be blind to not see how much he cares about you. You’ve finally opened up, Gabby. I haven’t seen you like this since Clark. Is that what this is about? Because he’s not Clark, Gabby. He’s not going anywhere.”

  “I know he cares about me. Right now, anyway. But ultimately, I’ll end up disappointing him like I do everyone else in my life. I don’t deserve to be happy, Fran, not while Clark’s laying in the ground.”

  Fran takes a deep breath. “Gabby, listen to me. I know you’ve been hurt. I know the people you loved the most in your life let you down. I know, deep down, you feel that if they loved you enough, they wouldn’t have walked away from you. I know your family has made you feel that you’re not worthy of love. But let me fucking tell you something, Gabrielle Willis. If there’s anyone on this earth who deserves to be loved, and loved hard, it’s you. You’re my best friend, and one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. The way you live your life, the way you appreciate everything, is admirable. You’re such a giving person and you appreciate it all, the good and the bad. You know it has value in your life. Life’s lessons, you always tell me. You take those lessons and turn them into something positive. I love that about you. I’m not the only one, Gabby. It’s impossible not to love you.”

  I bury my face in the comforter, smearing my tears all over it. “I just can’t do this, Fran. I don’t have the strength.”

  Fran’s voice becomes stern. “Now you listen to me. Brad’s not your family, Gabby. He’s not. I know you’re scared. I know you think he’ll end up being just like them, or that you’ll lose him. Clark loved you, Gabby, and he would’ve wanted you to go on with your life, to be happy.”

  “I was supposed to be happy with him, Fran. I thought we were meant to be.”

  “I know, sweetie. But none of us know what life has in store for us, or how much time we have. Life is a risk, and you have to take risks if you’re ever going to have a chance at happiness. I want you to be happy. I’ve seen t
he way you are with Brad; he makes you happy. Take a chance. What’s the worst thing that can happen? I know you’re worried about getting hurt. But isn’t there also a chance that you’ll end up experiencing the happiness you’ve been searching for, for so long? Regardless of what happens, Gabby, I’ll be here for you. I’ll always be here for you.”

  Fran’s words swirl around in my head. “I just don’t know if I can, Fran. I just don’t know if I can get past the fear.”

  We sit in silence as Fran wipes the last of the tears from my face. In the comfort of her bed, I fall into a restless sleep, haunted by soft brown eyes, pain, and overwhelming disappointment.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  THE DAYS DRAG on but, before I know it, another week is over. It’s been seven whole days and I haven’t heard from Brad at all. Why would I? I told him I needed space. He’s just doing what I asked. I force myself to go back to Starbucks so I don’t have to see him. I can’t even share with him that I went to the information meeting and actually applied to Parsons for next year. Concentrating is so much harder than I thought. Everything in my being craves him. I miss his smell. I miss his smile. I miss his dimple. I miss that adorable wink he always gave me when I walked into his shop. I miss his touch. The way he made my skin shiver and my heart skip a beat. I miss him. I recognize this longing. It’s all too familiar. It hurts. It physically hurts.

  When I get home, Fran is waiting for me with compassion in her eyes. “Hey sweetie, how are you?”

  I walk over to the sofa and fall backwards with a thump. “I’m okay, Fran.”

  She comes over and takes a seat next to me, resting her hand on my thigh. “I saw Brad at the coffee shop today.”

  The sound of his name makes me lose my breath. Is he okay? Does he miss me? The question looming in my head makes its way out. “How is he?” I ask in a hoarse whisper.

  “He asked about you. And Gabby? He looks miserable.”