The Square (Shape of Love Book 2)

by JA Huss

  That’s all I hear.

  “But can you ever forgive me, Christine? Can you ever love me? The way you used to?”

  My eyes tear up. Because that’s not the ‘but’ I was expecting.

  I nod my head and croak out, “I can. I do. I never stopped. I’m so sorry.”

  I look at Danny. He’s blurry. But then a tear falls and he’s clear again.

  And he’s smiling at me.

  “Good start,” Danny says. “But this is way bigger than one I still love you. This is some deep, deep betrayal, friends. And we can’t move forward until we go back.” He looks at Alec again. “So tell me... Alec. When, exactly, did you fall in love with me?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - ALEC

  “Did you happen to go off and get a psychology degree when I wasn’t looking, Daniel?”

  “When?” he repeats. “When did you fall in love?”

  “What are you doing, Danny?” Christine asks.

  “Fixing it,” he says.

  He smiles at her. She smiles back, her cheeks still wet from her tears. An inside joke. One that I wasn’t privy to and, right now, don’t feel I should ask about.

  “When, Alec? When was it that you decided you loved me? Loved us? When was the moment you knew?”

  I stop sipping my drink and go ahead and down it whole. The muscles in my jaw spasm a bit when the flash of liquor passes over my tongue. I wipe my bearded lips with the back of my hand and place the tumbler on a side table. I trace the rim with my finger.

  “I’ve always known,” I say.

  “Not good enough,” he replies. “Be specific.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because. Because… a lot of reasons. Because you’re always so fuckin’ witty. You’re always so goddamn charming. But right now, I just want you to be honest. I want all of us to be honest. I know honesty is in short supply in this bunch, but I wanna give it a try. Because there’s a lot—a whole fuckin’ lot—that suggests we should go our separate ways again, but only one thing that suggests we should stay here together.”

  “Love,” I offer, quite on impulse.

  Danny points his finger at me and nods his head. “Gold star for Alec.”

  I feel itchy to leave. On the surface that’s because I’m eager to go back to my estate. I want to get to Lars before he disappears. I want to know why he brought me here. How he saved me. How he survived himself. And what his goddamn plan is. Maybe, maybe there’s a chance that he’ll say something that keeps me from killing him where he stands. Because if not, I have to protect these people here and one little girl I only just met. I have to. Because I’m the one who can, and something tells me that if I don’t then it might not happen.

  But, as I say, that’s on the surface. Below the surface is the fact that I feel itchy to leave because opening up a vein and bleeding my truth all over this suite is not something I’m eager to do. I’ve already bared just about as much of my soul as I can tolerate. But he’s right. It’s either get clean, get bare, right here, right now, or pretty much accept that I never will and say goodbye to them both. So that don’t leave me a choice I can stomach. I have to live in this discomfort. And thus…

  “Do you remember Misty?”

  “Misty?” Danny asks.

  “A girl that I was distracted by for a bit.”

  “I do,” says Christine. “The one in Alabama. The one we stole the necklace from.”

  “Was it Alabama?” I ask. “I can never remember. Regardless… yes. That one.”

  Danny squints his eyes, thinks, then says, “The one you threw off the bridge?”

  “In fairness, I didn’t throw her. I was attempting to keep Christine from killing her and she was lighter than I had anticipated.”

  “What about her?” Christine asks.

  “Then,” I say. “That was when.”

  “That was when what?” she says.

  “That was when I knew.”

  “You knew you loved us when you tossed some chick off a bridge?” Danny says.

  “Yes, Danny, that’s exactly it. You get it completely.” The sarcasm in my voice should be sufficient, but to be sure, I emphasize it with a small golf clap and then continue tracing the rim of my tumbler. “To be clear: I wanted to throw her off the bridge. I did. Of course, I did. She laid her hands on you.” I nod to Christine, who blinks. She sniffs a bit. “I can’t describe the feeling—”

  “Try,” Danny says. I twist my neck and clear my throat.

  “Yeah, well, it felt like… it felt as though she was striking me. And not just with her fists. Her words. The wretched venom she was spitting out at you both, I could feel it in my gut as real as any punch. I’d never felt anything like that before. That type of emotional reaction to something that wasn’t aimed directly at me was altogether new. I didn’t know what the feeling was at the time.”

  “And you think that was love?” Christine asks.

  “No, no,” I answer, carefully. “No, I think that was… passion. Maybe even com-passion, if the idea that I can feel compassion isn’t too radical a concept to consider.” I don’t know if it’s the bourbon or all the truth, but I’m actually starting to get just a wee bit lightheaded. At least I don’t feel any discomfort in my ribs anymore. “Hearing her call you those things, and knowing what you two had both had to fight through just to be where you were—which is to say, alive—caused me to become hurt for you. Because she had never known pain. Had never known suffering. She was just a spoiled brat who was angry because she couldn’t have what she wanted and was taking it out on those who she saw as inferior. The entitlement sickened me.”

  “Wow. Well, that’s fuckin’ funny, ain’t it?” Danny says.

  “Yes, Danny, my bru. I reckon it is. But when Christine fought back… Christine, when I pulled that car over and saw that you weren’t about to back down… that you weren’t going to be marginalized… that you weren’t about to let anyone else define you or play second fiddle to anyone… well. I think it’s possible that that’s the moment I fell in love with you. When I saw that you were a person who will not be broken. That you will always fight back. How could I not love that?”

  “I was, like, thirteen,” Christine says.

  “Yes. You were.”

  “You think you’ve loved me since I was thirteen?”

  “No, nunu. I know I have. The essence of who you are. The parts of you that make you you. They’ve always been there. And I’ve always loved them. And Danny…” He’s dropped his leg and slumped down into his seat now. He has his hands folded by his chin. “Danny, my boet.” I smile. “I thought you were so fokken cool from the first time I saw you. I’ve told you before the whole reason I beat that oke in the boxing gym that day was to impress you. I wanted you to think…”

  “Think what?”

  “That we were the same.”

  “We’re not,” he says, with a small laugh.

  “No, I know. But I wanted you to think we were.” He laughs louder. “But just as with Christine, it was the night that Misty fell that I discovered that I loved you. Truly loved.”

  “How come? What about it?”

  “When she went over the side and Christine cried—"

  “I didn’t cry,” Christine interrupts.

  I don’t want to correct her because I don’t want to start an unnecessary fight but… “You did, luv.” She’s wrong.

  “I so did not.”

  “Christine”—Danny wanders in—“you did.”

  “Fuck you both. I don’t remember that.”

  I start to say, You don’t remember a lot of things, but good-natured joshing seems like it’s still a fair distance from being earned.

  “Well,” I say, “regardless, you were upset. Understandable. We had just watched a girl go flying over the edge of a fifty-foot drop. But you were upset, and I saw the way Danny raced in to comfort you. He wrapped himself around you like a protective cloak. And that immediate care for yo
u. That honest, human goodness. That love for you. It made me love him.” I look up at Danny as I finish saying it. He’s staring at me. Expressionless. “I fell in love with you, Danny, because I knew then that no matter what happened between us… you’d always be there.”

  “Yeah?” he says. “But I wasn’t. Eventually, I wasn’t.”

  “I beg to differ. But no matter either way. You’re here now.” My eyes smile at them both. It doesn’t land on my lips, but my eyes beam at them. “But… and I want to be very, very clear about this… even if you were not here, I would love you just as much. The very same way. I have loved you both since that night. I have loved you when I’ve been near you and when I’ve been apart from you. I have loved you fully and without reservation. I have loved you without qualification or caution. And while I love the joys you bring to my life, that is not why I love you. I am the most selfish person you will ever know. I want what I want, how I want, when I want. But when it comes to you two, I only want for you to be safe and for you to be happy. I’ve done a fokken wretched poor job of showing that always, but it is always how I’ve loved you. Underneath it all… I would trade my life for either of yours any time. Always.”

  I pick up my glass and regard a small, swirling amount of liquor left in the bottom. I reflect for a moment on all the words I just said, examining them to make sure I didn’t leave anything out and that it’s all completely honest. I feel certain I didn’t and that it is, but I want to be sure, so I add…

  “I mean, look, I’m not much of an expert in matters of the heart. I’m not certain that what I described is even love in any traditional sense. I don’t know. I have no idea what other people feel. But to me, that’s what love is, and I mean every syllable of it.”

  I take in the tiny trickle of remaining bourbon and feel the hint of a sting.

  When I finish swallowing, I conclude with…

  “And I hope that answers the question, Danny. I really, really hope it does. Because honestly, my sweet, sweet bru, for a worthless bastard like me, it’s the best I can do.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - DANNY

  I stare at him for a second then look over at Christine to make sure this is acceptable to her. Her lips are making a pursed pout, like she’s considering things. Then she nods, closes her eyes, and lets her head fall back into the couch.

  For a few moments I just stare at her throat. The way it’s stretched taut from the position of her head. How easily someone could hurt her. The many ways one could end things using a throat.

  It’s sick.

  Kinda.

  But it reminds me of something I’d forgotten. The way one throat could change the lives of dozens of people. “Remember that time we took the polar bear trip?”

  Christine lets out a chuckle.

  Alec says, “Eish, man. Why do you have to bring that up?”

  “Because Christine got sick, remember?” I turn to her and find her nodding. “Your throat was a mess, you were coughing so hard you bruised your ribs, and you lost your voice.”

  “But she still made us stay in that god-forsaken cabin for six more days,” Alec says.

  “Long enough for all of us to get sick,” I add. “By the last day, the entire camp had strep throat and the whole place was on lockdown. They wouldn’t let anyone leave until we’d all been on antibiotics for forty-eight hours, so we ended up staying two extra days.”

  “And by that time the three of us were better.” Christine smiles. Then laughs. Because we made the most of those last two days.

  “My mad, crazy girl,” Alec says, remembering how the trip ended.

  “Hey,” Christine says. “I wanted to see some fucking bears, OK? And we paid a lot of money for that trip. It wasn’t my fault I got sick on the plane ride out there. So…” She shrugs.

  “So you stole a fokken truck in the middle of the night, came and got us out of bed, and we went out alone.”

  “Hey, I stole their rifles too,” Christine adds. Like this makes it so much less insane.

  There were so many bears out that night. Dozens of them. And I’m pretty sure they thought the three of us were a tasty late-night snack.

  “You were fearless,” Alec says. Now he’s got his eyes closed too. Head propped back against the couch. But he’s smiling as he remembers.

  “You were always fearless,” I add. “No fucks to give about anything or anyone.”

  “Not true. I gave all the fucks.”

  “For us,” I say. “Sure. But not anything else.”

  “Remember those three bears we saw going back?” Alec says.

  And of course we do. Because it was two big ones bloody from fighting and a smaller one, pacing back and forth, watching them like it was upset.

  “They were us,” Christine says.

  I nod. Because they were. I don’t know jack shit about polar bears except you can’t trust them. Which pretty much makes them like most people, I guess.

  But these three looked like they were up to something. Some secret plot was concocted, and it didn’t end well, so they were hashing it out.

  “And we came up with that story about them,” I say.

  “They stole the Crown Jewels.” Alec laughs, eyes still closed. Head still back. “And almost got caught because someone else didn’t do their job.”

  “Fucking Eliza,” Christine says.

  I’d forgotten that part. That Christine’s story about the fighting bears was about her and Eliza’s elaborate plan to steal the Crown Jewels.

  “You liked her back then,” I say.

  Which makes Christine open her eyes to stare at me. “Yeah, well, that was before…”

  But she doesn’t finish.

  Doesn’t need to. Everybody knows everything now.

  “Anyway,” I say. “That’s when I fell in love in with you, Christine.”

  She makes a face. “I was seventeen. It took you all those years to fall in love with me?”

  “I mean, I loved you before that. But that night, out there in that truck, watching those bears. The way all of us just… played along with your silly game. And how it was you who did that. It was you who got Alec to laugh and have a good time even though he never wanted to take that trip in the first place. Not me. Wasn’t me who did that. You were the glue. You were the center of my universe. There was no version of Danny who existed without Christine and that night I realized it. I wanted you.”

  By now Alec has his eyes open too and he’s staring at me. “Why didn’t you take her?”

  “Because she wasn’t mine, she was ours. Our world was held together by very thin lines of varying degrees of love. Yours was always strong. Mine was new, and only for her, and hell, I have no idea what Christine was thinking that night. I just knew that if I tried to take her away from you we’d end up like those bears. Fighting until we were bloody. Christine pacing back and forth with worry.”

  He closes his eyes again. Drops his head back. Weary look on his face. But then he smiles. “You always were a selfless bastard.”

  “Not always,” I say, looking at Christine. “You made me this way.”

  She gets up, walks over to me, plops down in my lap, wraps her arms around my neck, and sinks against my chest. “You made me this way too.”

  Alec is watching us. Pained expression on his face. Jealousy? Maybe. But I think he’s just sad. I think he’s sad because he thought, for all these years, that Christine loved him just as much as she loved me. And right now, I think he has doubts about that.

  Doubt. That’s what that expression says. Doubt that the sharing we’ve been doing with Christine was ever equal. Doubt that we will ever work out the way he wants us to.

  He has always thought that I was the one who wouldn’t go along and now he’s starting to realize that it was never really me holding things up.

  It was her.

  “So,” Alec says. He swallows hard, staring at me. “When did you start loving me?”

  “The moment Christine shot you out in the woods.”<
br />
  He sighs. Long. Loud. Resigned. “Pretty recent then, eh?”

  I nod. “Yup. Took me a while, I guess. But I knew in that moment that there was no us without you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - CHRISTINE

  It’s true, what he’s saying.

  There is no us without Alec. I think that’s the part that scared me after I lost the baby. I always knew Danny was there. Even when he was thousands of miles away, we were tied together somehow. And one tug from me, or one tug from him, would rewind that link and we’d be back to who and what we were.

  Christine and Danny.

  But that’s not how it felt with Alec.

  I turn a little in Danny’s lap so I can look him in the eyes. “I fell in love with you the moment you came up to me in that foster-home back yard. You were this incredible older man—”

  He laughs. And everything inside me gets hot with pleasure at this laugh. “I was fourteen.”

  “Like I said, older man.” We take a moment to smile at each other. I’m acutely aware that this must be uncomfortable for Alec, since he was not in our world back then. But I don’t know that I care. “Anyway. I fell in love with your looks first. You were wearing those faded jeans and that white t-shirt. And you had boots on.” I look down and find his boots. “Not like those. These were brown.”

  “You remember the color of his boots when you were ten?”

  “I only had the one pair,” Danny says by way of explanation. “And I wore them every day for almost two years.”

  It’s true. But it’s not why I remember them. I remember the leather bracelet he wore on his wrist too. And the rip in the hem of his t-shirt. And the flavor of ice cream he ordered when he dragged me out of that back yard and took me under his protection.

  “I remember everything about that first day with Danny because I loved him instantly.” He smiles at me. He knew this but I suppose it’s nice to hear all the same. I smile back and then lift my head so I can stare at Alec.

  “So when did you fall in love with me?” he asks.

  “Which time?” I ask.