Isolation pressed on every side as he tried to fight the horrifying truth: He was a twenty-five year old orphan with no idea who he was supposed to be.
Chapter 1
Eighteen months later….
Journey tossed her keys into the silver bowl by her front door and fell into the couch, emotionally and physically exhausted. Tonight was possibly the worst first date she’d had, and there’d been some doozies.
Her head fell back against the cushions and she turned toward the collage of framed photos on the dining room wall. Her and Ty at prom. Beck and Sean backpacking in the Rockies. Sean on one knee, proposing to her best friend. The five of them at graduation, holding UT college diplomas. The memories mocked her. Sneered at her. Reminded her of a time before life swooped in and bulldozed their connection to one another.
And yet, she refused to take them down. It was one of the biggest arguments she and April had had in their twenty-one year friendship and one of the few Journey had actually won. Though tonight she wondered if April hadn’t been right. Staring at the past was a self-imposed misery.
Journey startled when the dead bolt rattled then clicked. Ten o’clock at night on a Friday. Too early for Journey. Way too late for her roommate to be coming home from work. Though this routine had become their new normal.
She watched from the couch as April shut the door, carefully set down her briefcase, and eased out of her suit jacket. She immediately hung it in the closet, shifting the hangers to be equal distance apart.
The routine was a meticulous tribute to how far April had fallen back into her old ways. Worse than her old ways. Sean’s existence hadn’t just been erased from their lives, but from her entire being.
Her hand froze when she met Journey’s watchful eyes. “You’re home already?”
“Yep. He took me to his sister’s wedding where he flirted with her bridesmaid right in front of me, and then seemed fiercely appalled when I wouldn’t accompany him to his house, aka bedroom.”
April collapsed into the adjacent recliner and carefully removed her four-inch stilettos. “I told you he was a slime.”
“I know you did.” April hadn’t only told her that, but was so convinced of his predatory nature that she’d bought Journey pepper spray to keep in her purse. “I just figured you couldn’t make that kind of judgment in five minutes.”
“I knew it in two.” April was exceptional at reading people, prophetic almost in her ability to call a skunk a skunk, even when covered in sweet-smelling flowers. Yet she was a fortress when it came to her own emotions.
“Why is this so hard?” Journey rubbed her temples. “I don’t remember dating being so painful.”
“That’s because you’ve never really dated. You went from a relationship with Beck to a relationship with Ty.”
“Hey, I went out with Matt Hickory and Adrian Gilki in-between.”
“Need I continue my argument? Both those guys were so far under your league it was laughable.”
The former had been her study partner, nerdy in a cute way. The latter, a guitarist in a less-than-talented band. At the time, she’d wanted someone who was the complete opposite of Beck. Neither relationship lasted very long.
“Whatever.” Journey slid off her own pinching shoes and propped her feet up on the coffee table. She needed a pedicure desperately, and an aspirin. “I’m not here to debate with you. I just want to complain.”
“Complaining is the front door to self pity, which is a horribly unattractive quality, even for someone as beautiful as you.” April stood. “If you don’t like your life, Journey, change it.”
“Sure, I’ll get right on that.”
Ignoring her sarcasm, April disappeared into their small but modern kitchen. The condos were built only three years ago and they spared no luxury. Stainless steel appliances, sand colored granite countertops and cherry cabinets. They never mentioned that April and Sean had picked out all the finishes, or that the two of them had lived together for over a year.
Journey especially didn’t mention that he had emailed her when he found out Ty and her broke up. Or that they’d been corresponding back and forth for months now.
The refrigerator door slammed and Journey raised her voice so it carried to the kitchen. “Did you get Britani a present?” Though the thought of Beck’s baby sister turning eighteen made her feel old.
April emerged with a bottle of Perrier in her hand. “No. I didn’t have time.” She set her bottle on the coaster, carefully wiping away the condensation. “She’ll want money anyway. I’ll slip a couple hundred dollar bills inside a card.”
Efficient and impersonal. Those were April’s new mantras.
“Do you want me to take it for you?”
“Nope. I’m going on Sunday. Andrew isn’t on shift and it’s the only time we see each other anymore.”
Andrew was April’s older brother, a firefighter, and the most influential person in April’s orbit. Their family had been through a lot in the past year. Her uncle had pleaded guilty to felony embezzlement and the scandal forced her parents to relocate. As with everything else in April’s life, she’d been tight lipped on her feelings about the whole thing.
“Speaking of brunch, though,” she continued. “Britani texted me a little while ago.” There was a coolness to her tone that had Journey’s hair rising. “Seems like the party will be very crowded.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ty will be there. He’s driving in tomorrow.”
Six months should have been enough time to take the sting out of those words. Instead, hearing his name only brought the pain back to the surface of her heart.
“Makes sense. Britani’s like a little sister to him.”
April raised one perfectly tweezed eyebrow. “So you’re fine with seeing him? You feel nothing?”
“I didn’t say that.” Journey lightly kicked her best friend, but the twist in her stomach brought a new wave of sadness. “Not all of us are made of concrete.”
It was hard not to focus on the good years. They’d had the same dreams, the same need for one another. But like all things in life, the bad inevitably trashes the good, stains it, permanently. Ty changed. He grew distant and detached. Unattainable, both emotionally and physically.
She closed her eyes, scorched again by the memory of the last time they’d spoken.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said rushing to the table where their dinner had sat cold for over an hour. “I met Jim for drinks and then his brother-in-law joined us, and you won’t believe it, Journey, he’s sitting on hundreds of thousands of dollars in construction equipment and looking for a new insurer.”
She stayed seated, tears already threatening to spill down her cheeks. “It’s our anniversary, Ty. If there was one night you might be on time, this is it.”
He blew out a frustrated breath and she knew an argument was coming even before he spoke. They were fighting all the time now. Her begging for scraps of his attention.
“I can’t keep arguing with you every time I have to work,” he growled.
“All you do is work!” She hated how her voice rose. How it shook with desperation and pleading. “I need more, Ty.”
“More what?” He stood and threw down the napkin he’d just placed on his lap. “I don’t know what you want from me any more.”
“I need more time together.”
“You know this is a stressful time for me. I still have to prove myself.”
“I know. I’m trying to be understanding.” She pressed her fingers to her temples, wishing the words would come out easier. It wasn’t just the time. It was everything. “I feel incomplete all the time. You’ve distanced yourself from me and I can’t function that way. I need more of your heart, Ty.”
He stopped pacing and put his fists on his hips, his head dropping in defeat. “I’m giving you all I have. I can’t fill all the voids in your life, Journey. It’s too much to ask.”
“Is it too much to ask for more commitment, then? It’
s been years.” She stood now, hating that he was so far away. “You won’t even talk about moving in together or getting married. I can’t stay in this state.”
“And I can’t give you what you’re asking me for. Not right now.” His arms dropped listlessly to his sides, his gaze finally meeting hers. Like her own, his eyes were filled with unshed tears.
How had they become so broken?
“Maybe it’s time we take a break, then.” She didn’t mean it. Not one word. “Figure out if our lives still fit at all.”
His lips pressed together, the early emotion replaced by the same anger he’d been living under for a year now. “So this is an ultimatum.”
She shook her head, surrendering to the stream of tears that refused to stay back. “No, Ty. It’s a gift. I’m giving you a way out.”
She had said it to get his attention. She never thought he’d take her up on the offer. And she certainly never expected him to go off to Dallas days later without even a goodbye.
Journey picked up her phone and winced. “You know this means I’m going to have to call Winston.”
“Isn’t he the one your mom set you up with? The one who talked about cars for two hours?”
“He is,” she moaned. “But he’s also the one who’s called me three times and is the most likely to say yes.” She tossed the phone aside, not yet ready to make the dreaded call. “I can’t see Ty without a date.”
“And why is that?” April pulled pins from her hair, the dark strands falling around her delicately pale face. She looked soft with her hair down, which was probably why she always wore it up.
“Because, he’s so…I don’t know, aloof now.” Journey tucked her feet up under her skirt and twisted the cotton material. “He’ll act completely fine while I’m falling apart. At least this way, I’ll feel a little in control.” It was her Achilles heel: that pressing need to have someone, anyone, care about her. She’d been to multiple therapists and they all gave the same diagnosis. Abandonment issues. Childhood neglect. Blah blah. For all their degrees, not one had shown her how to feel whole without someone by her side.
April placed a hand on Journey’s knee, hair spilling over her shoulder. “Sometimes people wear indifference because it’s easier than facing the truth.” A heartbeat of silence, and Journey felt certain they were no longer talking about Ty. “And for the record, I don’t think bringing a date is the answer. Especially a tool like Winston Carter III.” She patted her leg twice, then sat back. “Be bold. Go alone and own it proudly.”
“I don’t know how to be alone.”
“And therein lies your problem.” The edges of her eyes turned down with concern. “You broke up with Ty for a reason. A good reason. And yet, all these guys you’ve gone out with have been losers in my opinion. It’s like you’re killing time with men you know you won’t fall for.”
“No.” Heat rose up her cheeks. “I’ve been trying to move on.”
“Is it working?” April didn’t wait for the answer; they both knew it was no. “What about this? Instead of one bad date after another, you take a little time and rediscover yourself again.”
“I know myself.” Better than most.
“You know your issues, yes. You’ve clocked more couch time than any person I know, but Journey, you never do anything with that knowledge.”
A tremor of anger ran though her. If they were going tit for tat about issues, Journey only had to say one word: Sean.
April raised a hand. “Think about it. How long did you remain single after Ty moved to Dallas?”
“I don’t know. A month.”
“A week. That’s it. And after that one, it was two weeks.”
“Your point?”
“You need a healthier outlet. When’s the last time you painted?”
“I teach kids all week.” And gave free lessons at the nursing home where her grandmother stayed. Art would always be her air, even if it was tainted at the moment.
“Yes. You teach, but when do you pick up a brush and use that amazing talent of yours? When do you paint?”
And there it was, the question she’d tried desperately to avoid, because she’d stopped painting sixteen months ago. When her father told her he’d fallen in love with another woman and was leaving her mom. And as it turned out, his only daughter, too. Everything she’d painted during that time was dark and wicked and so painful, it hurt to even look at the canvases.
“I can’t anymore,” she admitted. Ty had been the last person to see her work. He took one glance at it, wrapped his arms around her and let her weep for an hour. He’d seen her pain; he’d always been the one to see her. And then he disappeared, a slow fade that made her cling to him tighter. And the more she pushed, the more distant he became.
A tear fell down her cheek before she realized she was crying. “I don’t know how to exist without him.”
April joined her on the couch and pulled her in for a rare hug. “I know. And that’s exactly what you have to fix.”
Journey wiped her eyes and grabbed a tissue from the side table. This moment was the closest they’d shared since Sean left, the most vulnerable she’d seen her roommate in months.
Working to keep her voice steady, Journey ventured into dangerous territory. “Is that what you’re doing with Sean? Finding yourself again before you ask him to come home?”
April stood abruptly. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Romanticizing the break up. It’s finished. Not to be rekindled in this lifetime.”
Sean’s emails had indicated the same staunch decision. They’d agreed to a set of rules. He didn’t push her about Ty, and she didn’t push him about April. Beck was the only person fair game, and yet Sean never brought up his name.
“I’m not romanticizing anything. I just want to understand why it happened. I mean, one day you’re good, the next you’re boxing up his things. None of it makes sense.”
April picked up her heels along with Journey’s abandoned shoes. “You of all people should know appearances don’t mean anything.”
“I guess not, because I saw you together and it’s the happiest you’ve ever been.”
“What is happiness, anyway, but an illusion.” April stared into the same void she had since calling off her engagement. “Loyalty. Honesty. Those are real. Our relationship was not.”
A weighty silence settled over the room. “I know you still love him.”
April’s eyes darkened while she began a backwards retreat, her knuckles white around the shoe straps. “Now you’re delusional.”
“Bull. You’re in the same frozen state that I’m in.” Journey bounced to her feet. “Look around, there hasn’t been a speck of dust in this place since he left. You’re not dating. And let’s be real here, this is the first meaningful conversation we’ve had in… forever.”
“Well, check it off the list then, because this little bonding exercise is over.” April stormed down their hall, tossing Journey’s shoes in her room along the way.
“And you wonder why I need so much therapy,” she yelled after her disappearing roommate. But as usual, April’s only response was the slamming of her bedroom door.
Chapter 2
The Kinders lived in a quiet cul-de-sac perched right at the top of Bentwood Hills, overlooking downtown Austin. When Tyler first came to the house with Beck over a decade ago, he’d called it a mansion, and spent most of his time wandering, slack jawed and intimidated. Years later, it became his new home, though he never stopped feeling like a guest.
Now more than ever.
Tyler exited his car and stepped forward, reaching down to shake out the creases in his black pants as he walked. Wrinkle-free obviously didn’t extend to a four-hour road trip from Dallas fighting weekend traffic down I-35. At least his assignment was complete and he’d never be forced up the wretched corridor again.
The new branch was up and running three-weeks ahead of projection. However, thanks to a friend’s cousin who
should never have been hired in the first place, the project was still four months behind schedule. Which was why Tyler had been sent to rescue the failing start-up. A job he’d eagerly accepted at the time, needing a respite from all the drama.
The front door opened before he had a chance to knock, and Beck stood opposite him in a pair of khakis, a green polo and a good-natured grin. “I knew as soon as they made the announcement you’d come home and steal my thunder.”
“Eh, you need the humility now that you’re a big shot division chief and my new boss.” He smacked Beck’s arm and pulled him in for a quick hug. “Congrats, by the way. You deserve it.”
The appointment hadn’t come as a surprise—they’d been anticipating it as soon as Eddy submitted his retirement papers. Beck was a natural leader and the son of the owner. No one even blinked at the promotion.
“Thanks.” Beck slapped his back twice and released him. “Do you have a place to stay?”
“With you, I’d hoped.” It wasn’t the first time he’d crashed at Beck’s home. The man owned a gorgeous four-bedroom monstrosity on the edge of Lake Travis only a half-mile from the plot of land Tyler had purchased. He’d spent the last six-months custom designing his house with an architect and now finally his dream would become a reality.
“Why not?” Beck sighed. “It’s not like I’m ever there.”
“I’ve warned you about the hazards of sleeping at the office.”
“Says the guy who just spent six months in a hotel room.” Beck pulled him across the threshold. “Come on. Mom’s been pacing and cooking up a storm since she found out you were coming.”
Tyler barely made it through the chandeliered foyer when Britani collided into his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of him. “You came!” Her skinny arms tightened around his waist. “Beck said not to get my hopes up. He said you’d been completely absorbed in your Dallas project.” She pouted a little. “But I knew I was way more important than some silly old assignment.”
Until I Knew Myself Page 2
