Until We're More

by Cindi Madsen

  “I’ll find a way to keep myself occupied. Maybe I’ll stop passersby and tell them some random paint facts. When you need to find me, just look for the people fleeing the scene.”

  I chuckled, kissed her cheek, and whispered, “Thank you.”

  “Did you want to update me on Tautolo?” Dad asked as we walked toward the more deserted side of the gallery. “I was hoping we’d hear if he got on the card or not by now.”

  “No, this isn’t about work. I…” I scratched at my eyebrow. “I know we’re not the talk about our feelings types.”

  Dad made a sour face, which was the same twisted thing my insides were doing at the mention of feelings.

  “I know, I know,” I said, holding up a hand. “Just… Are you okay? Mom could’ve been nicer.”

  “Don’t you go blaming your mother,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m the bad guy in that situation. I held on to her when I should’ve let her go. I was selfish, trying to have the best of both worlds, and she got caught in the crossfire. I don’t deserve her forgiveness. I deserve everything she dishes out and more.” He clapped me on the back. “Don’t worry. I can take it.”

  “You still love her?” Not sure why it came out, because I hadn’t planned on asking, but it was in the air between us now.

  “Yeah, and I always will. Which is why I’m glad she’s found happiness somewhere else. In the end, that’s my saving grace—that she was able to move on, even after I broke her.”

  Tightness claimed my lungs as thoughts I kept trying to bat away attempted to poke through. About being selfish versus letting go and how much I’d hate myself if I broke the person I most cared about. “And you? Where’s your happiness?”

  “The gym, my kids, my fighters. I’m good, son.” He gripped my shoulder and jostled it. “I’m also starting to worry that I didn’t raise you right. You don’t waste time talking to your old man when there’s a pretty girl in a dress making eyes at you.”

  My gaze sought out Chelsea, and I stared, not bothering to hide my admiration.

  Not trying to think about her driving away from me in one short week.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Liam

  Brooklyn talked me into going to dinner with my mom, and while I’d dragged my feet, I was glad. It showed me another side of her. She’d finally gotten to follow her own dreams and was married to someone who made her a priority, and it’d been a long time since I’d seen her so…well, to use the word that was starting to be the word of the day: happy.

  “Liam,” she said as we were heading out of the restaurant. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She and Larry exchanged a look, and he headed toward the parking lot.

  Chelsea slid her arm out of the crook of my elbow and gave me a peck on the cheek. “I’ll go make your brother and sister keep me company while you chat.”

  I watched her walk over to Brooklyn’s Mustang, where she, Shane, and Finn were before turning my full attention to my mom.

  “I know you think I was too harsh with your father, and you’re right. Seeing him just always reminds me of all the time I lost.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to handle the resentment over that, so I lash out.”

  I didn’t have a clue what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything.

  A nervous smile played across her lips, never quite making it to cheerful territory. “I’m glad Finn and Brooklyn had you to watch over them. I shouldn’t have put you in that position, but I’m glad all the same. In a perfect world, you would’ve all come with me.”

  “In a perfect world, we wouldn’t have had to pick.”

  Raw hurt rushed over her features. “What was I supposed to do, Liam? He cheated on me and I forgave him, then he ignored me for another couple years and cheated on me again.”

  “I’m not saying you should’ve done something different. Just making an observation about a perfect world.”

  “The world’s not perfect, though. It’s messy and complicated.”

  My feet itched to flee this conversation, and I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m grown. I’m fine. Brooklyn and Finn had it a little rougher, but they made it through okay, too.”

  “Yeah, but maybe if I’d gotten out earlier, you wouldn’t have decided to be a fighter. Maybe you would’ve decided to be something else.”

  Offense pinched my gut. “What’s wrong with being a fighter?”

  “Nothing. It just means you can’t always make the same choices as people with other careers. Your options are more…limited.”

  I clenched my jaw, an ambushed sensation scraping my nerves. “Clearly you have something more to say. I’d prefer you spit it out.”

  “Chelsea.”

  My lungs stopped taking in air, and while I was sure my heart kept pumping blood in and out as usual, it sure didn’t feel like it.

  “She’s a sweet, smart girl,” Mom said. “The kind of girl your lifestyle could chew up and spit out.”

  I blew an even breath out through my nose. “I know, Mom.”

  “A life on the sidelines is no life—I know that better than anyone. She reminds me a lot of how I was at that age, too. Starry-eyed over a fighter and overly optimistic that love would be enough to get me through the ups and downs that came along with the lifestyle. If only that were true.” Mom sighed again, and each sigh seemed heavier than the previous one. “I’m saying make your choice. But don’t drag her along if you can’t make her a priority, too. It’s not fair to her.”

  So many things weren’t fair. I wanted to point out that it wasn’t fair that Brooklyn and Finn missed out on having a mother for most of their teen years. That they had to make do with me trying to hold things together at home. It wasn’t fair that I fell in love with my best friend at the worst possible time, right before the biggest fight of my life, one that’d determine the rest of my career.

  Or that the gym required so much work to keep it going and get it back to where it used to be, and that even a year from now—hell, two or three—I still didn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel, just more hours and stress and intense training and one day that bled into the other.

  But that was life, and I’d never been one to stand around whining about things that weren’t fair.

  “I gave up my dream so your father could live his,” Mom said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d never take back our marriage because it gave me you, your brother, and your sister, and I learned a lot about myself. But it was a rough lesson, one that nearly broke me.”

  Dad had said the same thing. That he’d broken her.

  Those same worries that’d spun through my head all day rose up again. I told myself that he and Mom were different people with a different history, even if it did mirror parts of Chelsea’s and mine a little too closely.

  I cleared my throat, but it didn’t rid it of the tightness. “I’d never ask her to give up her dreams.”

  “Yeah, but you won’t be happy with anything but becoming number one and holding on to it as long as possible, and it takes so much to get to the top that I’m afraid even if you try your best to avoid it, your dream will still eclipse hers eventually.” Mom shrugged. “I hope I’m wrong. I’m probably also too late to give motherly advice you feel like you should actually listen to, but it’d eat at me if I saw the crash coming and didn’t say anything. I can see that you care about her, so you need to be aware of what she might have to give up. What you both might have to give up. Just…think about what you really want before you both end up hurt.”

  I didn’t want to think about it, but as much as I hated to admit it, I could see where she was coming from. She’d lived the ups and downs, and like she said, she’d know better than anyone. “Chelsea’s only here temporarily. She has to head back to Denver in a week.” And it’s going to feel like someone ripped my heart out of my chest.

  Mom nodded. “Now I feel silly for working up the courage to say something.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It wa
s good to see you.”

  She hugged me and told me goodbye.

  I crossed the parking lot, over to where Chelsea, Brooklyn, and Shane were waiting for me.

  “Everything okay?” Chelsea asked, while Brooklyn raised her eyebrows in the silent version of the same question.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go home.”

  “Remember what I said earlier,” Brooklyn said as Shane started to tug her toward the Mustang. “Don’t wait till it’s too late.”

  Basically, my sister told me I’d regret not asking Chelsea to stay, and Mom told me I’d regret pulling her too deep into my life. Which one of them was right?

  Probably the one who’d lived it, unfortunately.

  …

  “I need to talk to you about something,” Chelsea said as soon as we walked into the apartment. My brain had been a mess of downer thoughts as I’d driven us home, and I desperately wanted to pull her to me and get lost in her, a sure cure for thinking too much.

  But something in her tone sent worry pinging through me, making it clear there’d be no break for my brain. “Is this a sitting-down conversation?”

  Her forehead crinkled. “I’m…not sure. I guess it depends on how you take the news. Maybe have a seat nearby, just in case.”

  “I’d be scared, but you’re still talking, so…” I hoped that was a good sign. I could use some good to go with all the bad that wouldn’t leave me alone.

  “Well, be prepared to be the opposite of scared—what is the opposite of scared, anyway? ‘Calm’ doesn’t quite fit. ‘Ecstatic’? But that’s not quite right, either.” Her gaze lifted to mine.

  “Don’t look at me. You’re the human dictionary.”

  “Hmm. Apparently we need a thesaurus so we can find the antonym.”

  I closed the distance between us and took her head in my hands. “Maybe just talk to me.”

  She swallowed, and apprehension tumbled through me. “It’s about my job. I asked my boss if I might be able to stay in San Diego, at this branch. You would’ve been so proud; I was bold and I— Hey, ‘bold’ is opposite of fear.”

  Dangerous, tempting hope rose, even as I told myself that it might be a bad idea. The hope and her staying here, where I’d only add stress to her life, right along with her family. “Chelsea. Babe. Focus.”

  She reached up and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “Turns out, he was actually going to ask me for a meeting, because he got permission to offer me a promotion—to take over his manager position in the Denver office.”

  That effectively popped my balloon. “Wow. That’s… Congratulations.”

  Her finger twirling kicked into high gear. “But he said if I really wanted to stay, he could hire me on. It’d sort of be like starting back at the beginning, and I’d have to take a pay cut, but I’m sure with my experience, as long as the branch does well, eventually I’ll still be able to move up. To some extent, anyway.”

  I dropped my hands by my sides, because if I kept hold of her, I wouldn’t say what I needed to. “There were a lot of ‘as long as’ and ‘eventually’ and other speculative words that basically boil down to the job not being as good here as the one you could have if you go back.”

  “I know, but…” She took my hand and slipped her fingers between mine. “You’re here.”

  Everything in me insisted I curl her hand in mine and hold on for all I was worth, but that wouldn’t be what was best for her, and she deserved for someone to put her first for once. “What was your entire goal when you came here?”

  “One of my goals was to remember that you were my best friend and not to think of crossing lines, but admittedly, not keeping it has turned out rather well.” She sidled up to me, and I desperately wanted to kiss her and just beg her to stay.

  For her to put off her dream so I could have mine. Apparently my mom was right, even if her timing to drop that truth bomb was a bitch.

  I pulled my hand free and took a step back. “Your work goal, Chels. About learning to be assertive so you could move up the ladder. That was the whole reason we worked so hard on it. So you could get a job offer like the one you just got.”

  The excitement drained from her features as she blinked those big brown eyes at me. “Yeah, but things are different now.”

  I shook my head. “What we had this last month, it wasn’t real.”

  She recoiled, the pain on her features so sharp it sliced through me, too.

  “I mean…” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Shit, I’m fucking this up. I care about you—”

  “Downgraded from love to care.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Perfect.”

  “That’s not what I mean. All those nights I didn’t come home till late? When I missed your celebration dinner and didn’t get home till after you’d fallen asleep? That’s the norm. Not the few weeks before where we were practically on vacation together—it’ll rarely be like that.”

  “You’re saying we’ve been living the part of the fairy tale before the clock strikes midnight. That the carriage is turning back into a pumpkin, and the sparkly is all worn off?”

  “Not how I would’ve put it, but I guess it fits.” My heart knotted, squeezing and squeezing until I didn’t think it’d ever pump again. “My life is going to be crazier than ever the next two months while I get ready for the most important fight of my life, and if things go the way I want them to, it’ll only get busier after that. I’ll have a title to defend and more people to train…” I curled my hands into fists, letting the cold, hard reality settle over me. “I can’t do a full-blown relationship right now. Can’t give you what you want and deserve.”

  She took a step back, and even though it was only a foot or so, it felt like an ocean of space. “You won’t even try?”

  “Why? So you can miss your opportunity to get the job you’ve always wanted, a decision you’ll resent me for when we fail? How could we ever go back to being friends after that?”

  Her breath shot out of her, her shoulders curving in like she’d taken a blow to the chest. “How can we go back to being just friends now?”

  The words cut me right open, the way her voice caught at the end lemon juice on the gaping wound. I swallowed, hard, and worked to keep my voice as even as possible. “I hope we can figure it out. But I won’t let you settle for a life of sitting on the sidelines.”

  “Who said anything about sitting on the sidelines? I thought in addition to having a job that I like, one that keeps me closer to you, I’d also be able to stand and cheer from the sidelines.” Her jaw locked, fire flickering through her features. “Maybe I could take an extra job announcing the rounds in the cage so I don’t get accused of sitting around during the fights.”

  I tilted my head.

  She mimicked me.

  “Chelsea, you always over-romanticize things. And if you think that you’ll stay and things will magically work out because we want them to, you’re delusional.”

  “Delusional?” Her voice pitched higher, and I flinched, immediately wishing I could shove that last sentence back in my mouth. She grabbed her purse and her jacket.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Oh, I got the hint. This was always supposed to be temporary, and I’m overstaying my welcome. Kitty?” She glanced around the room. “Come ’ere, kitty-kitty.”

  George came running, and she scooped him into her arms.

  “Come on, Chelsea,” I said. “Don’t go like this.”

  “Oh, I’d rather leave now than stay and be delusional enough to think things will magically work out.” She blinked back tears, and I felt like shit. How had this spun out of control so quickly?

  “Okay, I regret everything I’ve said in the last few minutes. Obviously I made all the wrong word choices.” I reached for her arm, and she jerked away.

  “But you mean it, don’t you?” Her eyes locked on to mine, and it didn’t just tug on my heartstrings, it yanked them right out. “The part about us not working out.”

  �
��I…” What was I supposed to say? If I gave her false hope and she stayed, she lost her dream job. If I didn’t say anything, I might lose her for good. When it came down to it, it was better for me to live with regrets than for her to have to.

  “Crestfallen” was the best way to describe her expression, and it poured more lemon juice on the wound that’d spread and taken over my chest. “I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff later, sometime when you’re at the gym. Thanks for giving me a place to stay this past month, and, you know, all the orgasms.” She took another couple steps toward the door, and my arms throbbed with the urge to stop her and pull her to me so she wouldn’t leave, but I knew she’d fight me and, even worse, that it wouldn’t do any good. “For the record, I wasn’t going to just sit on my ass and hope this worked out; I was going to put the effort into it to ensure it did.”

  The slam of the door echoed through the apartment, and then I was alone, and while I’d been perfectly okay being alone a mere month ago, suddenly I felt it with an intensity that made me think I’d never be okay with it again.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chelsea

  How could life be so incredibly wonderful one minute and then so beyond shitty the next?

  Silly me, I’d thought this time Liam would say he wanted me to stay. Why hadn’t I learned my lesson the first time? Why’d I expect this one to be any different?

  Probably because I read too many books and over-romanticized things.

  Oh, and I was delusional, too.

  Tears blurred my eyes, and since I was driving, I decided I should pull over to keep from endangering anyone around me, not to mention George and myself.

  Since I’d left without his carrier and he was not a fan of moving cars, his claws were embedded deep into the passenger seat. It took me two tries to dislodge him, and without driving to concentrate on, the tears flowed freely as I convinced my cat into my arms.