by J. L. Berg
“When did I ever tell you that? Did I ever say those words?”
I thought back, tried to remember a time when I’d heard him say those three little words. I’d felt them hundreds of times, in the way he’d held me, the deep devotion in his gaze… but had he ever spoken them?
“What we had, Millie was a long-term distraction. I needed someone to keep me entertained on this dreadful island, and you needed someone to help you get over how disappointing your life had become. It was mutual and it was lovely, but now, I need to get back to my life.”
“You don’t mean that,” I said, unable to stop the tears from flooding my eyes. “You’re just running. You said you wouldn’t run, Aiden.”
His throat worked up and down, and he met my gaze. “I’m sorry. The only love I have room for in my life is my career, and you nearly ruined that a few weeks ago when you distracted me. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going back to New York where I can get proper medical care that doesn’t require a three-hour journey, and then I’m going to put my life back together.”
“What about the memorial?” I asked, my mind reeling as my heart fell to pieces on the floor.
“It can be shipped back to my studio in New York. It will be a welcome change to be back in my temperature-controlled warehouse with all the equipment back in place.”
I’d thought he liked working here.
I’d thought he liked working here with me.
I’d thought a lot of things, none of which were true.
A distraction—that was what I was.
Just another damn distraction.
Was that all I was ever going to be?
I blinked several times, the shock wearing off as I tried to figure out what to say to the man who’d just broken my heart.
Because, unlike with Lorenzo, this time, it was definitely broken.
No, not broken. Utterly destroyed.
Thanks to Aiden, I now knew the difference.
“I was actually thinking of leaving, too,” I said, making his head turn back toward mine.
“Oh?”
Trying to keep my voice steady, I nodded. “Yeah, after what you said about the storefront, I started to get cold feet. I mean, I would have to be crazy to start a business on this island. It’s empty half of the year and filled with tourists intent on spending their money on junk. Who would want to buy my designs?”
For one brief moment, his face softened, but just like the nights when he’d held me and I’d seen his walls crack for a split second, it was gone again.
“You’re absolutely right. Stupid risk. You’re much better off.”
I wiped away the dried up tears from my face as I watched him walk out the door.
“Don’t give up on him, Millie. And don’t give up on your dreams. Fight for your happiness.”
I heard his suitcases roll down the old hardwood floor. There was a pause, ever so brief, and I wondered if he’d changed his mind.
Maybe this was all a dream.
But then the front door opened, and he was gone.
I’m sorry, Molly, I thought. I can’t fight anymore.
I’ve lost the war.
The key went into the lock with surprising ease.
I didn’t know why I thought it wouldn’t.
I guessed I’d thought walking back into this empty, upscale apartment after my life had fallen apart would be harder.
Again.
But, at this point, I just felt numb.
Molly and the rest of my family and friends had begged me to stay after Aiden’s abrupt departure. Well, actually, they’d first begged me to go track him down and cut off certain parts of his anatomy.
It was a sweet offer, but after a few days of sulking around the inn, I’d needed the space.
Being in Ocracoke right now would have been suffocating. Everything had reminded me of him, and I’d already shed far too many tears over that man.
God knows he’d probably forgotten all about me the second he stepped foot onto the mainland. Hell, he’d probably already found himself a new distraction now that he was back home with his perfect warehouse art studio and top-of-the-line medical care.
Dropping all my stuff on the floor in the middle of the living room, I went for the kitchen. Knowing I probably had nothing to eat, I went for the wine.
Now, wasn’t this a serious case of déjà vu?
Bottle of wine, lonely party for one.
Yep, I’d done this before.
Only this time, it hurt so much worse.
Just as I was about to make it a full circle event and take my pity party into my closet like I’d done before, a quiet knock sounded on my door.
It was probably the nice old lady who lived next door. She was one of the only people I knew in the building, having spent the majority of the time I lived here traveling, but I always managed to carve out a bit of time for her and usually brought a little something back for her from my travels.
Unfortunately, this time around, all I’d managed to bring was heartache, and I doubted she’d want any of that.
With the bottle of unopened rosé still in my hand, I the door and pulled it back open, expecting to see Mrs. Metzler standing on the other side.
Instead, I was met with an impressive dark-haired man wearing a designer suit I could call by name, based on the pin-striped pattern and the buttery dark gray fabric.
“Millie?” he said as I was admiring his attire.
“Yes?”
“You are a hard woman to track down. Do you mind if I pop in? I’ve been all over, the place trying to find you.”
His accent was distinctly English, something I was trying to avoid these days.
“Do you mind telling me who you are first?” I eyed him suspiciously. A good fashion sense could only get you so far in my book.
“My name is James Griffin. I’m—”
“Aiden’s brother,” I said, finishing his sentence. “What are you doing here? Is he okay?”
His hands flew up in a calming manner. “He’s fine, I can assure you. Well, as fine as he can be.”
My brows furrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
His gaze went to the living room and then to me.
“Oh, right. Come in, please. I’m sorry.”
I stepped to the side as he made his way in, and I allowed myself a moment to take him all in.
He was taller than Aiden’s six-foot-two-inch frame and had a bit less bulk. But he was handsome in a very sophisticated, Fifty Shades of Grey sort of way.
“You said you’ve been trying to find me?” I asked as he took a seat on one of the two sofas in my living room. I held up the bottle of rosé I still held in my hand, offering him some.
He shook his head before answering my question, “I flew to Virginia Beach and then Ocracoke, but my very chatty pilot, after finding out who I was coming to visit, said you weren’t on the island any longer—that he’d flown you to the airport just hours earlier.”
“That would be Jimmy. We go way back.”
He nodded as I helped myself to a glass of wine, listening as I popped the cork.
“He actually flew me down here.”
I stopped mid-glass. “To Florida? Jimmy? He flew you all the way down to Florida?” My mouth gaped open. “But that man doesn’t even like to fly to the other side of the state. He does tours for tourists and airport runs, and occasional trips to the hospital in a pinch. But that’s it. He likes to stay close to the island.”
“That’s what he said—until I told him why I needed to get to you.”
My heart beat a little faster in my chest as I took my glass of wine to the living room and sat down. “And why is that?”
“I’m about to violate HIPPA privacy rules for what I’m going to tell you—not to mention, if it ever got out, I could lose my medical license—but he’s my brother Millie, and for a good portion of my childhood, I didn’t have any sort of family. He and Ben were it for me.”
“I don’t understand,” I sa
id, my head spinning the second he started mentioning HIPAA.
“I know you don’t. My stubborn brother has made sure of that. And, right now, he’s miserable because of it.”
“You said he was okay. Has something happened with his hand?” I asked. Oh God, did he reinjure it? Maybe it had been too soon to travel.
“His hand is fine,” he reassured me as his gaze leveled with mine.
In that moment, I knew something was about to change. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room.
“Aiden is going blind.”
“What?” I felt my body react to the news quicker than my mind. Tears welled in my eyes as a sob tore through me. “Are you sure?”
He took my hand in his, and it felt warm and comforting. He didn’t answer right away, giving me a second to breathe. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m the doctor who diagnosed him.”
“He never told me what kind of doctor you were,” I said.
He smiled. “No, he probably would have kept that to himself, too. I’m an ophthalmologist. A pretty damn good one too, if you ask me.”
“Is there a cure? Can you fix it?”
He shook his head. “What he has is degenerative. I can help with prescriptive eye wear to help him see at night, or even some medications have been found to help slow it, but his is happening so fast and at such a young age. It’s really like—”
“Working blind?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” he answered.
I let out a staggered breath, remembering all the times he’d seemed nervous about going out at night… the picnic at the beach, my damn carving lesson.
No wonder that shed had been lit up like a Christmas tree. He probably could hardly see anything the night he hit his hand.
I shook my head, so many things suddenly shifting in place.
“So, why fly all this way to tell me? It doesn’t change anything,” I said.
“Don’t you see, Millie? This changes everything.”
“He doesn’t love me,” I said. “He went back to New York.”
He let out a shallow laugh. “Yeah, and he’s been doing his best to drink himself to death since he returned.”
My eyes widened.
“Look”—he sighed—“I know what my brother might have told you to push you away, but do you think I would risk my career to come down here if I didn’t know for a fact that he loved you?”
I still wasn’t convinced. I wanted to be, but Aiden’s horrible words were on replay in my head.
I was a distraction.
Nothing but a distraction.
“He told you about Ben?” Even though he’d formed it as a question, it was somewhat rhetorical, as if he already knew the answer.
Still, I nodded in reply.
“Outside of the anniversary of his death, Aiden doesn’t talk about Ben—to anyone. Not even me. But he told you.” His gaze was steady, his eyes full of meaning. “He didn’t leave you because he doesn’t love you—”
My hand suddenly went to my lips.
How many times had he pushed me away, only to pull me back again? And then, just when things had been good, when our happily ever after had seemed plausible, a dose of reality had set in. In a moment of carelessness, he had gotten injured, and he’d pushed me away again.
“He left because he does.” The words fell from my lips.
Silence feel between us as I clutched my untouched wine, trying to make sense of everything I’d just learned.
“What a complete and utter idiot,” I said under my breath.
“Yes, well, he never was the brightest of the three of us. The most reactive? Sure. The most passionate? Definitely. Stubborn? Without a fucking doubt.”
I stood up, not hearing a word he was saying and slammed my wine down on the coffee table. “I’m going to go give that man a piece of my mind.”
“What? Now?” he asked, rising from the couch as well.
“Yes, now.”
“Of course. Because why wouldn’t I want to hop on another plane today? Sounds like a great time.”
I blinked, realizing for a moment that he was probably exhausted. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I’m usually a much better hostess than this. Or a least, I think I am. It’s been a while since I’ve actually entertained. Do you want to crash here for the night? You don’t have to come back with me.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Of course. Just drop off the key with Mrs. Metzler next door when you leave, and don’t eat anything in the fridge. Seriously, not a thing. I don’t know how long some of that stuff has been in there. There are menus in the drawer next to the silverware. You can have practically anything delivered.”
“You are a goddess among men, Miss McIntyre.”
“We shall see,” I said, turning toward my luggage that was still waiting for me in the middle of the floor. I guessed that worked out well.
“Give him hell for me,” James said as I turned around, my hand already on the handle of my luggage.
“Oh, I will,” I promised.
He stepped forward, his hand reaching into his pants pocket. “And, when you do, give him this.” He pulled out a small stone bird, much like the one I’d seen before, except this one was rougher.
Unfinished.
“Aiden has one just like this,” I said. “He said it was Ben’s.”
“It is. And this one is Aiden’s. He never finished it.”
I took it from his hand, my fingers running over the jagged lines. I could see the intent, the path he’d laid out, but the journey had never been completed.
“It’s not going to be easy to convince him. Once my brother has his mind made up, it’s hard to deter him.”
“And you think an unfinished bird is going to help?”
He smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find a way. You’ve worked a miracle already in my brother’s heart. Now, we just need to remind him of it.”
I looked down at the stone bird and squeezed it as my eyes closed in a silent prayer to the heavens.
Okay, little bird, let’s get to work.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
That’s the understatement of the year, I thought as I walked into the familiar gallery in Manhattan, the one I’d thought would make all my dreams come true. That was when I’d thought all my dreams revolved around stone and a chisel.
The last few months had shown me I had so much more to live for.
And so much more to lose.
“That’d be great. Thanks, Harry,” I said, happy to see my old friend.
Harry had been the director here for several years and was the first person to take a chance on me.
I owed him much.
“I’m sorry for dodging your calls and emails,” I said. “I’ve been…away.”
He made a dismissive motion with his hand as he poured us each a glass of whiskey from the private stash he kept in his office. Harry liked to think he was a character from Mad Men. Crystal decanters lined sleek wood shelves, which only accentuated the plush leather sofas.
It all went very well with the priceless modern art that adorned the walls, and, of course, the man himself, who had discovered some of the biggest names in a decade.
Including myself.
“You forget,” he said, offering me a seat before he took one himself, “I work with artists on a daily basis. I learned a long time ago not to take it personally when one of you vanishes for a while. Just last month, I had a painter who needed to go off the grid. He hid out in a dark cave for two weeks, resetting his senses or whatever. Came back and painted me a fortune’s worth of canvases. So, I get it. I mean, I don’t really, but I understand who I’m working with.”
“Harry, I’m quitting.”
The news nearly had him spitting out his top-shelf whiskey all over the designer sofa he’d probably paid a hefty sum for.
“Come again?” he said, setting down the glass on the ornate coffee table in front of him.
“My heart’s not in i
t anymore. I can’t keep carving if I don’t feel my work.”
He leaned back, his finger finding his chin as he assessed me. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that hand you’re trying to hide from me?”
I pulled the sleeve of my hoodie down a bit lower to cover my cast.
“Oh, come on, Aiden. It’s August, for Christ’s sake. Who wears a damn hoodie in the summer? Plus, you’re babying the thing like a wounded animal. I’m not an idiot.”
“It was an accident,” I said.
With his eyes still on my hand, he let out a huff of air. “Look, so you banged up your hand. A hazard of the job, right? Take some time off. Go travel, and get inspired. Meet someone. Hell, meet several someones, and then come back and see how you feel.”
I didn’t need to meet anyone.
I’d already met the one.
And I’d let her go.
Every moment since had felt like a fucking struggle to breathe. Like a tiny thread had come loose in my heart when I walked away from her, and every step I took tugged harder and harder, tearing open that seam until my chest was ripped wide open, and everything was hanging open to the elements.
I’d lied to her.
Her eyes, the utter betrayal in those blue irises when I’d used her own insecurities over her affair with her former boss and said she was nothing more than a distraction?
I’d never forgive myself for that.
I’d made a mockery of our love, and for that, I didn’t deserve anything from this world.
“No,” I finally answered, “I can’t.”
He watched me stand, and I began to walk out the door before he called out to me. “Listen, Aiden, I say this as a friend and not a man trying to make another buck or two off of you. Don’t give up on your talent. I’ve seen a lot of carvers come by my door, but you, you’re the real deal.”
I let out a sad sort of laugh. “You should have met my brother,” I said. “He was the real talent. I just had the drive and a great deal of patience, which I happened to learn from him as well.”
“Sometimes, that’s what matters most of all,” he said before pausing. “Good luck, Aiden, wherever the road takes you.”
Luck? Luck and I had never been fast friends.
No, wherever I was headed…I just hoped they had a decent supply of whiskey.
