by R. C. Martin
“Wait,” repeated Theodora, still rooted in her spot just beyond the door. “What?”
Harper suddenly stopped, burying her fingers in her hair as she whimpered, “He stopped making time for me. It wasn’t a big deal at first, but then he just kept canceling our plans—like they weren’t important to him at all. And I get it. I mean, kind of. His work is really important to him, and he’s trying to build his career, and now is a crucial time for him—but it’s a crucial time for us, too.”
Her tears blurring her vision, Theodora thought about the last time she spoke with Judah. She couldn’t help it. She felt the sharp pain of anguish as she remembered their huge fight and how she’d walked away from him.
“He just…he just let you leave?” she managed on a whisper.
“No, actually,” murmured Harper. She sank down onto the coffee table and sat on its edge. “He told me I was right. He understood where I was coming from. He promised he’d do better—only, I’d heard that before. He’d promised me that before. And I just—I freaked out. I mean, how many times was I supposed to let him break his promises?”
Before Theodora could think of a response, Harper’s phone began to ring. Reaching for her purse, Harper dug out her device and silenced it. That done, she tossed it onto the table behind her.
“It’s Ben. He’s called, like, ten times.”
It was then that Theodora broke. She burst into tears, unable to stop herself from weeping. She covered her face with her hands, her whole body shaking as if the shock of the truth cracked what little stability she managed to hang onto until that very moment. She cried so hard, when she gasped for air, she croaked.
“Teddy? Oh, my god—Teddy, what’s wrong?” Harper raced across the room and folded her sister in her arms. Theodora’s knees buckled, and she pressed into Harper as she continued to sob. “Babe? Teddy Bear? Oh, my god—what is it?” There was a tremble in Harper’s voice, her fear evident in her tone.
“Judah and I broke up.”
“Fuck. Fuck! What? When? What?”
“On Thanksgiving.”
“What?” Harper cried, squeezing her sister harder. “What do you mean? That was a week ago. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We got in a fight. Only, we didn’t—I thought—maybe—I thought, maybe—but he hasn’t—he hasn’t called me one time. Not one time.”
When Harper’s phone started to ring again, Theodora cried even harder. Soon, the both of them were on the floor, Harper sniffling as she rocked her sister soothingly. Theodora cried until she fell asleep, Harper’s fingers gently combing through her hair. She was so emotionally wrung out, she didn’t wake when Ben knocked on her door an hour later. Neither did she stir when he lifted her from Harper’s arms and carried her to bed.
Chapter Forty-Three
I planted my elbows on my desk and lowered my head, raking my fingers through my hair with a sigh. My head was no clearer that morning than it had been the morning before, or the morning before that. Closing my eyes, I furrowed my brow and replayed Aunt Eddalyn’s confession from a couple of days prior. It still surprised me to learn she had been in love. Not because I didn’t think her capable, but because I didn’t think it mattered to her.
Don’t let forever prove you wrong, I heard her say. That’s a long time to harbor the pain of loss.
My head jerked up at the sound of my doorbell. My brow dipped into a deeper frown as I looked in the direction of my front door, but I didn’t rise to answer until a round of knocking commenced. At barely nine o’clock on a Saturday morning, I couldn’t fathom who would be at my door.
Until I could.
Halfway there, I stopped. My heart sputtered at the thought of Teddy standing on my porch. I ignored the effect such a possibility had on my insides and then forced myself to put one foot in front of the other. When I twisted the lock free and opened the door to find Benjamin standing there, I didn’t know whether I was more disappointed or surprised.
“What are you doing here?” I muttered, my eyes giving him a quick once over.
He was in a pair of wrinkled dress slacks, a pull-over sweater with a collared shirt beneath, and a wool coat. Given the state of his pants—along with a day’s worth of growth on his face, and his uncharacteristically disheveled hair—I wasn’t sure what to make of his presence.
“You look like shit,” I pointed out before he could answer my question.
“So do you,” he shot back, not a measure of hesitation or humor in his delivery. “I slept on a couch last night, what’s your excuse?”
Not in the mood to spar with my brother, I ignored his question and repeated, “What are you doing here?”
“Get dressed. I’m taking you to breakfast.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You didn’t come all the way up here to buy me breakfast.”
“No. I didn’t. But then I heard a rumor. Maybe two. Get dressed. I’ll drive.”
He didn’t give me a chance to refuse him but turned on his heel and headed toward his SUV, parked in the driveway. I stared after him, not in the mood for breakfast, but sure he wouldn’t leave me alone until I indulged him. Grumbling under my breath, I shut the door and set about getting dressed. Fifteen minutes later, we were traveling out of my neighborhood, the cab of his vehicle filled with our silence.
Rather than stop at any of the overly popular breakfast spots, Benjamin took us to the edge of Old Town. After he parked, I followed him to a small café on a quiet corner. I’d never been in before, and something told me he hadn’t either—but we were seated right away. This seemed to please him.
“I’ll take a coffee, please. Black. Thank you,” he told the host, who asked for our drink preference.
“Coffee’s fine,” I stated, definitely not in the mood to be polite. As soon as we were alone, I ignored the menu in front of me and asked Benjamin, “What are we doing here?”
He stared at me for a long time, then said, “Harper and I got into it last night. It was bad. One minute we were talking, the next we were arguing, and then she broke up with me. Just like that—stormed out.”
I stared at him silently, trying and failing not to compare his situation to mine—his woman to mine—his Fitzpatrick to mine.
“I called her half a dozen times. I went to her place. I couldn’t find her. Couldn’t reach her. Scared the shit out of me. Then I remembered where her safe haven was—or, rather, who.”
Our coffees were set in front of us, but I didn’t touch mine. Benjamin wrapped his fingers around the mug before him, and I could tell he was waiting for me to speak—waiting for me to confess something.
I said nothing.
“She’s a fucking mess, Jude.”
He didn’t need to clarify which Fitzpatrick he was referring to. I felt it in my gut.
“When I showed up, she had cried herself to sleep. Harper said she’d never heard her sister cry like that before. What happened? I thought you two were good.”
For a fraction of a second, his words tried to rip right through me. I knew Teddy’s history. I had witnessed the aftermath of her deepest pain. I shoved aside what it meant to know that Harper had seen a new pain. A different pain. A pain that had my name on it. I couldn’t stand the thought, so I didn’t.
“I could say the same for you and Harper,” I clipped.
“Harper and I are fine,” he practically hissed. He then pressed his chest against the edge of the table in order to shorten the distance between us. “When she walked out my door, I knew I’d be a fool to just let her go. So, I chased her down, reminded her I loved her—reminded her she’s mine—and we sorted that shit out. That’s what you do, Judah. When you love a woman so much you can’t imagine life without her, you sort it out.”
“Make your point, Ben.”
“My point? God, Judah. Never in my life have I met anyone so in denial.”
“I’m not in denial,” I glowered. “Not denial. Not love. Not any of it.”
“Bullshit,” Benjamin muttered in di
sdain, leaning back in his chair. When our server approached to take our order, my brother lost a bit of his polite demeanor. He held up a hand as he announced, “We need a minute.” He didn’t even look her way before he continued to lay into me. “When I walked in and saw Teddy like that, when Harper told me you two have been split up for a week, I wondered why you didn’t care to mention it. I called Aunt Eddalyn. She told me a few things.”
“What? What do you want me to say, Ben? Fucking what?”
“Admit that you love her before you lose her for good.”
“I don’t—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence. I’ve had enough of the bullshit you’ve been feeding me for years. Love is not just a switch you can turn on and off. So—yeah—maybe you haven’t been in love in a while. You haven’t let anyone get close enough. Then you met Teddy. You met her and you liked her, and you couldn’t let her go, so you let her in.”
I bit back a curse, wishing not to cause a scene. However, my silence didn’t deter my brother from continuing.
“You let her in, and she changed you. She reminded you what it really means to be a man. And now—you might lose her. You know it, she knows it, and it’s got you both falling apart.”
“You don’t know what you’re—”
“Have you pictured it?” he interrupted, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “Have you seen her a year from now? Six months from now? Have you seen her on the arm of another man? Have you imagined her in bed, someone else claiming her as his?”
I clenched my teeth together, locking my jaw as the anger I’d been carrying around with me for a week began to burn hotter than before. I glared at Benjamin in a silent warning, but he only leaned toward me and kept going.
“Is she in your head, brother? Do you hear her voice? See her smile? Do you feel her touch? I bet it’s so real, like she’s right there next to you.”
“Enough,” I grunted.
“Maybe you ignore it. All of it. The memories, The what ifs. Maybe you try to pretend that it doesn’t matter, that you aren’t carrying around a pain that only comes with the gaping wound caused by love ripped out of your hands. And while you spend all your time pretending, your mind can’t focus on another fucking thing.”
“Shut up.”
“She’s part of you now. Or at least she was. Now, you can’t figure out which way is up because you pushed her way.”
“I didn’t fucking push her away,” I declared. Mimicking his stance, I pressed against the table and spoke through my teeth, “She did this. She walked away.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It doesn’t matter! If she’s yours—you go after her. Every time. Every fucking time.”
“Only a fool goes after a woman who turns her back on him.”
“Only a coward would let the woman he loves—the woman who loves him—walk away without a fight.”
His words knocked the wind out of me, and I sat back in my chair. I wasn’t sure if he noticed. It was obvious he had said what he wanted, and he shifted his attention down onto his menu as his accusation settled heavily in my gut. I stared down at the table, not seeing it as I reheard the last thing he said.
Only a coward…
Then it wasn’t his voice I heard—but hers.
You’re kind of a coward, you know that? You’re so afraid that someone is going to mistreat you, you won’t even give a girl a chance.
I frowned, almost startled by how accurately I remembered that moment—the moment Teddy showed up on my front porch and changed everything. That night, the thought of letting her walk away was unthinkable. That night, I did give her a chance; and every night since.
That night, she chose me.
And every night since.
“You want her?” murmured Benjamin, his voice so low and subtle I barely heard him.
I didn’t look at him for a long time. Trapped in the memory of our beginning, yet haunted by the reality of our present, I couldn’t decipher what it was I felt. Stubbornly, I wanted to believe she was wrong. I wanted to hold on to the lie that what we had was enough. Except, our history had proven what we had was never enough. With every passing day, there remained a yearning for more. More was what got me into the mess I was wading through. More was what I swore I would never chase after again.
I finally lifted my gaze and found the merciful stare of my brother. I curled my fingers into a fist underneath the table, angry at the way he silently declared the truth—yet, equally as relieved by the grace he offered me not speaking the words aloud. For the truth was, I wanted her. I wanted her so much, it scared the shit out of me.
“Be a man, brother. Be her man.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Geoffrey heard his phone chirp from on top of his dresser, where he’d discarded it on the way to his closet. Knowing it would be Harper, he quickly finished changing out of his work attire and then went to retrieve the device. It chirped three times before he was able to unlock the screen.
HF: How’s our girl?
HF: She’s shit at texting lately.
HF: Do I need to come up tomorrow?
It had been two weeks since Thanksgiving. For two weeks, Geoffrey watched as a piece of his heart dragged her feet through each day, exhausted from the effort of trying to put on a brave face. He knew better. Even when she told him she was fine, that she wished only to be alone, he knew Judah had broken her into a million little pieces. He knew he couldn’t leave her alone. She was strong, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t also fragile.
Me: I was thinking I might kidnap her and we’d come down. Get her out of town. Distract her a bit.
Harper began typing her reply immediately.
HF: I LOVE that.
HF: She’ll hate it, of course.
Me: Naturally.
He was in the middle of constructing another message when a knock sounded at his door. With Christmas only a couple of weeks away, he wondered if it was a delivery person who beckoned his attention. It was getting late—nearing eight o’clock—but those guys worked around the clock during the holidays. He didn’t even bother to look through his peephole before he freed his locks and swung open the door. He started when he found Judah standing in the hallway.
“What the fuck?” he muttered, as if his mouth was working faster than his brain.
Judah dipped his head in a subtle nod, like he accepted his presence warranted such a greeting. He then said, “I need to speak with you. It’ll only take a moment.”
Geoffrey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before he muttered, “Me? You think you need to speak to me? I think you came to the wrong door, buddy.”
“I didn’t. And if you hear me out, I can explain why.”
Slipping his phone into the pocket of his athletic shorts, Geoffrey had half a thought that Judah seemed pretty even tempered and calm—even a little sure of himself. It was a thought he discarded, his impatience and irritation occupying more space in his mind than anything else.
“Told you once, and I didn’t think I’d have to tell you again—but that woman is my best friend. For the last two weeks, I’ve watched what your silence has done to her. And you’re here, on my doorstep, wanting me to hear you out?”
Judah didn’t reply. He stared at Geoffrey intently, wordlessly repeating himself. This made Geoffrey scoff in disbelief.
“She’s shattered. You get that? That’s on you. Nothing you can say to me will change that. Try another door.”
“If you’re her best friend,” Judah began as Geoffrey started to shut him in the hallway, “you’ll let me in and hear me out.”
“Fuck off, Judah.”
His even temper obviously gone, Judah slammed his hand against the door, providing enough resistance to keep it from closing. Looking straight into Geoffrey’s angry gaze, he said, “I’m not at the wrong fucking door. I’m at your door for a reason—not because you’re her best friend, but because I belong to her, and you’re going to help me tell her.”
Geoffrey froz
e and studied Judah suspiciously.
Taking advantage of the silence, Judah added, “Five minutes.”
Suddenly more intrigued than put off by Judah’s surprise visit, Geoffrey slowly took a step back. Without a word, he pulled his door open just enough to grant Judah entrance, glowering at him as he crossed the threshold.
“This better be good,” he grumbled as he closed them inside.
Chapter Forty-Five
When Theodora managed to put her makeup on without crying and having to start all over, she considered it a small victory for the day. This was why, when she looked at her limp, wavy locks, she decided one battle won was enough. Using her fingers, she wrestled her long, red mane into a top bun. It was a little messy, but not so much that she couldn’t get away with it at work. It was Friday, after all. At least—that’s what she told herself.
She returned to her bedroom and gave little thought to her outfit. Thinking of the low temperatures forecasted for the day, she pulled out her red, green, and white plaid button-up shirt and her coordinating green, cable-knit sweater. She layered the two with a pair of fitted, navy blue slacks and then stared at her shoe collection. Immediately aware that her mood did not befit a set of high heels, she opted for her tan, pointed-toe booties.
Once she was dressed, she went to the kitchen to down a second cup of coffee. Sleep hadn’t come easy the night before. Lately, it was a trend. As was her lack of appetite. Theodora didn’t spare a thought to breakfast when her mug was empty but grabbed her purse and took her leave. Behind the wheel of her Civic, she was on autopilot. It was a frame of mind she found to be a safe place, so she stayed there as she arrived in Old Town, found a parking spot, and headed for the gallery.
It was a few minutes before the top of the hour when she dug her keys out of her purse in order to unlock the front door. Except, as she reached for the handle, something caught her eye and pulled her out of her safe frame of mind. Gently tugging on the door—afraid any force greater might shatter what could have been an illusion—she found it was already unlocked. Even more, she was shocked speechless that the illusion she thought she saw wasn’t one at all.
