Say You Will

by M. Malone

  Her hand shook as she picked up the picture frame again. She stared down at the image. Trent knew exactly which one it was, too. The one he’d stared at for so long that day.

  “And I kept wondering, what’s the big deal about Tia? He already told me how she died so what else is there? We looked something alike but if it was just a coincidence, then why would you go to such lengths to hide it?” Tears slid down her cheeks as she looked at him directly for the first time. “But it wasn’t just coincidence, was it?”

  “Mara, please …” He could hear the pleading in his own voice. Begging wasn’t like him but he’d do anything not to have to tell her this.

  “Oh god,” she managed to get out over her choked sobs. “That’s it, isn’t it? Meeting you wasn’t a coincidence at all.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  Her face fell and it hit him then that she’d been hoping he would deny it so they could go back to pretending things were fine. But he couldn’t lie to her anymore.

  “Tell me. Tell me what you did,” she demanded.

  “I saw you and it was like a dream.” He thought back to that day on campus that seemed so long ago now. He’d been touring the campuses of several colleges in Virginia. He’d only stopped in Norfolk because of the campus’ proximity to the beach. He’d been young enough to think that his college experience should be filled with days surfing and nights with beach bunnies.

  Then he’d seen her walking across the pavilion.

  “I followed you that day. Watched you go in to the registrar’s office. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  She closed her eyes. “I remember. I was so flattered. You seemed so different from the other guys who hit on me. It was like you were listening to every word I said and savoring them for later.”

  He had been, he thought. Every word, every breath she’d taken had been like a miracle. He’d wanted to absorb everything about her.

  “It was like seeing a ghost. I thought I was being punished.” Trent’s head fell forward and his hands massaged the side of his temples.

  Mara shifted, turning so she could see his face. “Why would you think you were being punished?”

  “Because of the way things ended. She killed herself right after we fought and I couldn’t help but ask myself if her state of mind at the end somehow led to what she did. I’d been dreaming about her for months, about the way she looked at the end, all bloody and cold.”

  “So you followed me?”

  “I did. I followed you for the rest of the day. I saw you go into Matt’s dormitory and when I saw you together, I was overcome. I thought he was your boyfriend. I went back to the registrar and paid the woman behind the counter a thousand dollars in cash to let me peek at the file of the boy in Room 27B. Then when I saw his name and realized that you were related, I paid her again to arrange a clerical error that would put me in that same room.”

  “And then you showed up in Matt’s room the next day and we met again. Matt never knew that we’d met already. I never told him,” she admitted quietly.

  “I never did either. I wasn’t planning to do anything other than watch over you. I used to follow you when you went out on dates to make sure you got home safely. I left money in your room for you to find when I knew you were short before payday. I just wanted to take care of you.”

  “No, Trent. You were trying to take care of her.” Mara put a shaky hand over her heart, crying in earnest now. “You were imagining that I was her. Were you thinking of her every time you held me? When you kissed me for the first time?”

  Trent reached out for her but she moved away. “No, that’s not how it was at all. I wish I could just explain.”

  “There’s no way to explain this, Trent. This whole thing is sick. You were imagining someone else when you were with me. Tell me the truth. All those times when you were following me and helping me, it was because you were pretending I was her, wasn’t it?”

  He wanted so badly to deny it. But he could tell that she knew by the look of disgust on her face. His secret shame was revealed, the one thing he’d never wanted her to know.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  Even though she’d demanded to know the answer, her chest crumpled over like she’d been punched. She breathed in and out through her mouth, so fast he worried she was hyperventilating.

  “You were thinking about her when you were with me. Were you thinking about her when you made love to me?”

  It was twisting him up, telling her these things that he knew would hurt her. Especially having her look at him like this, like he was someone that she didn’t even know. Although he deserved it, it still hurt like hell.

  “Mara, that’s not how it was. I’ve known you for years. By the time we … by that time, I hadn’t thought about Tia in a long time. After that, all I saw was you. You are the one I’m in love with. I blocked out that part of my life completely.”

  “But you didn’t. It’s still a part of you. She’s still a part of you.”

  He stood, his muscles protesting. It felt like he’d been through a war. “Please, let’s just go and talk about things. You can take your bath.”

  Mara shook her head violently. “No, I can’t talk to you right now. I need some space. I can’t even look at you.”

  He backed away. “I’ll leave. I’ll sleep in my office tonight.” He turned back to where she still sat on the floor. “I am so incredibly sorry.”

  “The worst thing …” She paused and then looked up him. Even the mascara trails running down her cheeks didn’t diminish her beauty. It made her look precious and fragile, like a priceless object with a crack right down the middle.

  “What’s the worst thing, baby?” He couldn’t hold back the endearment. Because even though she was so angry with him and probably hated him right now, she was and always would be the thing he cherished most in the world.

  “The worst thing is I’ll never know whether we really fell in love. Every moment with you, all those memories we made, they weren’t real. I’ll never know if you really saw me. How could you when the whole time you were looking for someone else?”

  * * * * *

  MARA RODE THE elevator down, her arms wrapped around herself. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it to keep people away or to hold herself together.

  She passed the doorman and several well-dressed people in the lobby but she could barely see them. She stumbled out into the cool night air and turned left, then right. The ding of the elevator car across the lobby propelled her forward. Trent would be coming after her.

  She had to move.

  A group of young women passed by chatting happily. Mara tucked her head and followed behind them, matching her gait to theirs.

  “Mara! Mara!”

  At the sound of her name she almost turned but caught herself at the last minute. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids and it took all her willpower not to turn back. It would be so easy to turn around, go to Trent and let him make the hurt go away. To let him reassure her that everything was fine and that he loved her. But the one thing she couldn’t do was lie to herself.

  Ignoring the instinct to turn around and run to him, she crossed her arms and surged forward, allowing herself to blend with the flow of the pedestrian traffic.

  She hadn’t brought a coat and she stood out in her evening gown and sparkly heels. In that moment she wanted to rip off the offending garments and run naked through the streets. It was just more evidence of how foolish she’d been. Trying to change herself to fit into Trent’s world, when the reality was she’d never fit in. She’d always been nothing more than a stand-in for the one thing money couldn’t buy.

  The love he’d lost.

  When they reached the corner, the chattering group of girls turned and she stopped.

  “Where am I?”

  A man walking next to her gave her a strange look so she tucked her head and went the opposite direction. The closest sign said “Park Avenue.” Wasn’t there a subway line somewhere nearby? The
n she bit her lip to hold in a sob. Even if she could figure out which subway line was closest, it wouldn’t matter since she didn’t have her purse. All she had was the phone in her hand.

  After walking to the other side of the street, she stood next to one of the buildings and scrolled through the contacts on her phone. She couldn't call her brother yet. He'd dropped everything to follow her out here the first time and she knew he wouldn't hesitate to do it again. But right now, she didn't really need a lot of questions and outrage. As she scrolled past all the familiar names, she considered and discarded each one. They'd all want to help but they'd want answers.

  She needed someone who would just get straight to the point and ask her what she needed. Then her thumb scrolled over a name that made her pause.

  Ethan Westbrooke.

  Her hands shook slightly as she pushed the button to make the call. If she thought about it too long she'd talk herself out of it. Right now, she needed the extra boost of courage that came with feeling desperate.

  “This is Ethan.”

  The deep, familiar baritone was so reminiscent of home and her old life, that tears sprang to her eyes.

  "Ethan? It's Mara Simmons.”

  "Mara? This is a surprise. Didn't you move to New York?"

  She glanced around her, at the people, the cars honking and the unfamiliar buildings. It was a horrible feeling to realize that her "home" was a place where she no longer felt safe.

  "Yeah, I did. I know it’s really late and I’m so sorry to do this to you, but I need some help."

  There was a pause before he answered, "Of course. What do you need?"

  "This is really embarrassing but I need a way to get out of the city. I just, need to get out of here." Her voice broke on the last part and her shame was complete. She was standing shivering on a street corner while crying to her former boss.

  "He fucked up already, didn't he?"

  "Yeah. I don't have my wallet. I don't have anything," she admitted. The words echoed through her mind and she thought strangely that they applied to way more than just the current situation she found herself in. All the things she'd learned about Trent over the past few weeks and all the dreams she'd envisioned for their future were gone. And she was left with nothing.

  “Just hold on. I’m going to get you a hotel room and ask them to hold a key for you at the front desk.”

  After she told him the address of the building behind her, she listened as he talked to someone in the background. She got a sudden visual of him scowling the way he often did.

  “Ethan?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you. Seriously. I haven’t talked to you in so long and you’re doing all this for me. I just … really appreciate it.”

  He paused and she could sense that he was surprised. “You’re very welcome. Just tell me that you’re okay.”

  “I’m not. Not at all actually. But I will be.”

  * * * * *

  TRENT STALKED DOWN the street, scrutinizing the faces of every woman he passed. He saw a woman with long dark hair and he reached out in recognition.

  “Mara!”

  She turned and her face came into full view. “Get your hands off me!” The older woman yanked her arm out of his grip and hurried away, throwing worried glances back at him.

  Trent stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, ignoring the disgruntled comments and curses from the people who flowed around him.

  Where was she? She couldn’t have gone far with no coat and no money. Her purse was still in the penthouse along with all her clothes. Her things. But after going up and down the street twice, there was no sign of her. He’d thought she was walking off to get some distance. He hadn’t actually thought she’d disappear into thin air. Out there alone with no way to even get back home.

  As he approached the building, Ernesto opened the door, a concerned look on his face. “You didn’t find her?”

  Well, that answered his question of whether or not Mara had come back in his absence. “No. Let me know immediately if she walks back this way, would you?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Back in the penthouse, he crossed to the bar and poured a drink, his fingers shaking so badly that he spilled almost as much as he got in the glass. He took the shot of whiskey straight, relishing the burn as it traveled down his throat and landed square in the middle of his gut. He needed that burn to make him feel alive. Because part of him felt like he was living in the middle of a very bad dream.

  I have a son.

  He hung his head. No wonder his brother felt like Trent was trying to take his place. Their father was trying to replace him at work and even his girlfriend wasn’t loyal to him. He wasn’t blind to his brother’s faults in the slightest but he was starting to get a broader view of where some of his brother’s behavior stemmed from.

  The sound of the elevator opening stopped him in his tracks. He rushed back over to the doors. “Mara?”

  Avery stood in the entryway watching him warily. For several long moments, neither of them spoke. Trent went through a gamut of emotions, surprise, disgust, rage, and finally sadness. Because he knew that their friendship had been broken today in a way that could never be repaired.

  “I know you’re mad at me.”

  Trent just stood looking at his oldest friend in the world and was suddenly completely deflated. “Mara’s gone.”

  A brief expression of joy crossed her face before she quelled it. “I shouldn’t have showed her that picture. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re not sorry.”

  Her head jerked up at his harsh tone. “Trent, I know—“

  “I want you to go, Avery. And not come back.”

  She took a hesitant step backward. Then she swallowed before nodding. “What about Travis?”

  “I’ll make arrangements to see him. We can coordinate through my mother. But I can’t see you right now. Probably not for a long time.”

  She looked like she wanted to say something else but then she looked at his face again, at his rigid stance and turned to leave. Just before she reached the elevators, she looked back and said, “She wasn’t right for you. Maybe I’m not either but I just had to make you see.”

  He stood in the same spot for a long time, even after the elevator doors closed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  WITH A SIGH, Mara sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off her shoes. Ethan had come through, providing her with a reservation number for a suite at the closest hotel he could find, The Carlyle. She didn’t even want to think about how she’d looked coming into the elegant lobby shivering and wild-eyed clutching her cell phone to her ear like a lifeline.

  But now that she was here, she realized how silly she had been running off without her things. There was no way she could sleep in her evening gown and makeup. She walked into the bathroom and peered at herself in the mirror. Her mascara had run beneath her eyes slightly since she’d been crying the whole way here. With a little sigh, she walked back out into the room and picked up the phone next to the bed. The man who had checked her in downstairs had been so nice and she thought that perhaps they might have some complimentary supplies she could use. At least a toothbrush.

  “Hello. I just checked in and I forgot, well, everything. There’s soap here but I don’t suppose you guys have extra toothbrushes, do you?”

  The voice on the other end of the line was steady and soothing. “Of course. We pride ourselves on providing everything our guests need. Would you like a toiletry kit?”

  “Yes, that would be great. Thank you so much.”

  “We’ll send someone up with your items shortly.”

  Mara had just drawn a bath when she heard the knock on the door. After a quick glance through the peephole, she opened the door to a bubbly maid who brought in not only the toiletries she’d requested but also champagne and strawberries, compliments of the hotel. She wondered what had prompted this level of service and then realized that Ethan must have laid down a huge deposit on the room in
order for her to be getting this treatment. It seemed her debt to him was just growing bigger and bigger.

  She bit into one of the large, juicy strawberries and decided that if she ever had to get stranded in the city, this hotel was the place to do it.

  She stepped out of her evening gown and hung it in the closet. Then she walked back into the bathroom. The toiletry kit contained the usual items: toothpaste, a small travel-sized toothbrush, floss and a small tube of body lotion. She pulled out a small packet and then gave a mental cheer. The facial towelettes would be perfect to sponge off the rest of her heavy makeup. Wetting one slightly, she attacked the heavy mascara first, sighing with relief when she finally looked like herself again.

  Once she’d brushed her teeth and washed her face, she climbed into the huge soaker tub. Steam rose from the water and she let out a bone-deep sigh of appreciation. Resting her head against the side of the tub, she told herself that she was going to take a little time not to think or obsess or cry. Just a break from it all to soak and relax. After a half hour, she finally felt warm again.

  At least in body if not in spirit.

  After wrapping herself in one of the huge fluffy towels, she poked around the room until she found a large white bathrobe hanging in the closet. Slipping it on was like wrapping herself in a cloud. Tucking the collar beneath her chin, she climbed onto the big bed and wondered what she was supposed to do now.

  For the first time, she allowed herself to really appreciate the grandeur of the room. The king-sized bed was swathed in the softest linen and piled with mounds of fluffy pillows. The room also contained a cherry wood writing desk and had a small balcony. It was decorated in a modern style that screamed sophistication. Ethan had really put her up in style.

  She wondered if this was what Trent had meant when he said that money changes how people see you. She could see how this kind of pampering could attract the wrong kind of girl. The kind who just wanted a caretaker instead of a partner. But she’d never been like that with Trent. They’d always been in it together, supporting each other. Or at least, she’d thought so until finding out that she actually didn’t know anything about him. Or that he didn’t really know her.