by P. Dangelico
“Who are you?” I said, staring into the face of the man I loved.
“Your husband.”
Chapter Twenty
Sydney
“I know you’re not asleep,” he declared, voice husky due to being up most of the night having sex. Not that anyone was complaining. Still, the letters kept me awake. “Syd?”
“Yeah.”
It was almost dawn. I was big spoon and he was little. I placed a kiss on his bare back, and he turned to face me, searching, no doubt for a sign of distress. He ran the pad of his index finger down my cheek and traced my lips, tapped once.
“Tell me what happened.”
It felt insurmountable, this story. But I knew I had to tell him. Scott wouldn’t have accepted my silence any more than I would’ve in his place. There was also the added complication that I was desperately in love with him, and now Josh was suddenly and seemingly back in the picture.
Did I want to right that wrong? Definitely. Was I going to give up Scott to do it? Definitely not.
“The summer I turned sixteen I volunteered at the town library. I did pretty much anything to stay out of the house back then. Worked at the Dairy Queen, babysat the neighbors’ kids. The store next to the library was under construction, soon to be a hardware store. I would eat lunch in the alley that separated the two every day…that’s how I met Josh. He was working the remodel. I’d never seen him before because he’d grown up in the next town and I didn’t go out at night unless I was babysitting.”
I paused, and Scott cupped my face, thumbs brushing lightly against the edge of my jaw, encouraging me to continue.
I loved this man. I loved him with an intensity that frightened me. I wanted him above all else.
“He liked to read fantasy. That’s how we started talking––books. He was older, eighteen, and smart but couldn’t afford college, single mother, food stamps…We fell in love.” I breathed deeply. “Long story short, I’d never done anything to disobey my grandparents, but Josh gave me hope. It was like…my love for him opened my eyes to the world. That I could get out of this town. That I could get out from under their control…”
Some people believe living in fear is the worst existence, but I’m here to tell you it’s not. Hopelessness is far worse. Fear urges you to keep fighting. Hopelessness tells you to give up.
“My grandfather randomly came to pick me up one afternoon––although he probably suspected because I couldn’t help the smiles on my face. He saw us sitting together, laughing. He saw Josh kiss me. It was so innocent. He barely touched me.”
I swallowed, pushing all those ancient feelings back down.
“My grandfather dragged me home, told me to get rid of him or he was going to report Josh to the authorities and have him brought up on charges. I was a minor––he explained it to me and I believed him. I was petrified for Josh. He was a gentle, sensitive soul. He couldn’t…
“Anyway…the next day I told him all kinds of things, that I didn’t love him, that he would never be good enough for me. That I knew all he wanted was my virginity and my grandfather was going to have him arrested. It nearly killed me to do it, but I was a pretty good actress. My grandparents had trained me well.”
Hearing it said out loud made me cringe. Not something I was proud of. Then again it had helped me survive.
“He was heartbroken, walked out on the construction job that day…a few days later, I lost it. I was heartbroken too. The only good thing that had ever happened to me was gone, and I had no way of finding him. I got into a fight with my grandfather, the first time ever, screaming and yelling that I was leaving. He pushed me down a flight of stairs.”
Scott’s entire body stiffened, the cords of his neck under my fingertips going taut.
“Broke two ribs. Otherwise I was fine…that’s when I started using my wits. On the way to the hospital, I told him that I was going to press charges, go to the police and show them all the scars. I was going to make sure he went to jail––”
Scott’s face was granite hard, his attention rapt. “And?”
“And then I told him he could buy his freedom. He had to place my college tuition in an account with my name on it––two hundred thousand. I wanted to go to Yale, and he was going to pay for it. I had no intention of living at home and commuting like they wanted me to. He agreed…He never touched me again after that. A year later I was gone for good.”
I learned an invaluable lesson that day. If I could make a deal with that devil, I could make a deal with anyone. A bittersweet smile shaped my lips.
“My grandmother’s lawyer has been after me for the past few months. He couldn’t close escrow on her house until I came to get the last of her things out of the attic––it was a stipulation in the will.”
The look he gave me almost made me laugh.
“I know. I wish I was making this up. Anyway, I found a bunch of letters inside a box. They were from Josh. He’d hidden them in magazines he’d sent me, but my grandmother had found them back then and she’d saved them…his return address is on the envelope.”
Scott’s expression altered in understanding. “You want to go find him.” I could sense he was holding back even though his voice gave no indication.
“I want to make sure he’s okay. I…I know it was a long time ago, but I feel like I owe him an explanation. An apology. That I never thought I was too good for him. That––”
Scott stroked my cheek in comfort. “You should go see him. Go find him.”
I caught a flight out of Philly to El Paso the next morning. Scott had walked me all the way to the gate and kissed me like it was the last kiss we would ever share before I boarded the plane. My chest felt tight when he’d pulled away. I’d begun to miss him before he was even out of my sight. I’d also been seconds from blurting out that I loved him, that I would talk to Josh and be home by dinner, but I’d learned not to make promises I wasn’t certain I could keep.
Life had taught me that lesson the painful way.
Sitting in my rental car, I glanced one last time at the envelope with the address on it and double-checked the number on the small four-family building. I was already drawing a few curious stares, so I got out, took a deep breath, and made my way up the steps to the porch. On the third ring of the doorbell, a woman in her mid-fifties opened the door. She wore a stained oversized t-shirt with a large POLO logo written on it, and a suspicious frown as she checked me out.
“Can I help you?” she said in an irritated tone.
A redheaded boy, maybe nine, poked his head out to get a look at me and my gaze dropped. Was this Josh’s son? They didn’t look alike but that didn’t mean anything.
“I hope so. I’m looking for an old family friend. His name is Josh Martin, and this is the last address I have for him…” Reticence clung to her face. “…it’s kind of important.”
She gave me another once-over with her hard brown eyes. “He’s my landlord…” At some point, she must have determined that I wasn’t a threat because she added, “He lives on the nice side of town. On Maple Street. White house on the corner.”
My face lit up and my stomach flipped. After all these years. After all the money I had spent looking for him. I was one step closer and all the more nervous.
Five minutes later, I was parked across the street and sat in the car summoning strength. The house was beautiful. A white ranch-style home with dark blue shutters and a wraparound porch. There was an enormous oak tree off to the side with a tire swing and a white fence edged with rose bushes. It was out of a fairy tale. Josh had done well for himself. This could have been us.
Scott: Call me when you can. Just want to make sure you’re okay. xx
As soon as Scott’s text came in, the thought made me feel disloyal. He’d given me the best gift one person could give another––he’d given me the gift of selflessness. He was prepared to give me up if making me happy meant I would leave him for Josh and he hadn’t balked. It’s then that I realized I’d never loved a
nyone more. Nor would I ever love like that again.
I started the rental and put it in drive, took one last look at Josh’s house. I’d hoped he was happy, hoped he’d forgiven me. As I eased my foot off the brake pedal, the front door opened and a woman stepped out. She was tall and pretty, with long auburn hair and a runner’s body. Behind her was a boy in a baseball uniform, nearly a teenager.
“Can we get pizza tonight?” he said to his mother. His voice carried into my open window.
“We had pizza two nights ago,” his mother reminded him. “Dad’s grabbing burgers and chicken wings on the way home. Which do you want?”
The boy was staring at his phone while she hit the security button on her Expedition. “Cameron, I said which do you want?”
“Burgers,” he absently answered, his attention consumed by whatever was on his phone. He smiled and his braces glimmered in the sunlight.
Sensing the scrutiny, she glanced over at me, her brow bunching in question. I pulled the car away from the curb. I’d gotten the answers I came for. I’d worried needlessly for years. Josh was more than fine…he was thriving. A huge weight lifted off my chest and took the corners of my mouth with it.
On my way to the airport, I stopped to get gas in town. In the meantime, I called Scott. It went straight to voicemail.
“I’m on my way home. I’ll see you soon,” I said with a goofy grin and a deep sense of peace settling in my chest. It was such a unique feeling I couldn’t equate it to anything else I’d ever felt. I placed the pump back, screwed the lid back on the gas tank.
“Sydney,” a man called out. I looked up, looked across the roof of my rental car, and met Josh’s stunned expression.
Scott: We’re at the Million. It’s Drake’s birthday tomorrow but we’re celebrating tonight.
“Mrs. Blackstone,” Ryan intoned upon seeing me walk through the door of the bar. I’d come straight from the airport. Wyoming was probably the only place you could leave a Mercedes G-Wagon in a lot and not worry it would be there when you returned. I threw him a big smile and scanned the packed-to-the-max bar.
“Everybody’s in the back, near the pool tables”––he hooked a thumb in that direction––“I’ve gotta make a call, but head over.”
Pushing through the mass of bodies, the table where all the Lazy S employees were seated came into view. Everyone looked to be having a good time, the tabletop littered with empty glasses and bottles. Spotting Drake, I walked up and wished him a happy twenty-second birthday. He tapped his lips, asking for a kiss.
“Boy, you better hope Scott didn’t catch that,” Pete, Laurel’s husband, remarked.
Chuckling, I planted one on his cheek instead.
“Pete, have you seen Scott?”
“Playing pool,” he said and went back to arguing with another guy over whether Carson Wentz was going to make it through the entire NFL regular season schedule for the Eagles.
I headed for the tables, anxious to see Scott and tell him all about my conversation with Josh, rounded the corner, and stopped short. He was leaning against the wall with a pool stick in his hand, smiling while Misty set up for a shot. Neither of them noticed me standing a few feet away.
“So…how’s married life? You’ve been strangely coy about it.”
His smile dropped and a hole opened up at the bottom of my stomach, a trap door that led to an abyss.
He scratched the back of his head and left his hand resting on top. “It’s amazing.”
Misty turned and gave him her full attention. “Really?” she said, sounding skeptical.
“Yeah…I love her. I’m in love with her. Best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
The bottom fell out. He loved me? He hadn’t even told me.
I stepped closer and Scott’s head snapped in my direction, Misty’s followed. Scott’s face broke into a grin and his eyes got that soft look in them, the same look they got when he was about to kiss me. Pushing off the wall, he reached me in four strides, the pool stick forgotten. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me until I softened and molded my body to his.
“Did you hear?” he murmured. I nodded and he smiled. “It’s true.” He swallowed and I watched a bit of uncertainty flash across his face. “I do. I love you. I’m in love with you…wanna get out of here and you can tell me about your trip?”
Words eluded me. I was still processing everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours and all I could manage was a slow nod while a mirror image of his smile grew on my face. Taking my hand, he glanced over his shoulder and waved at Misty. Then he led me out of the bar.
We drove to Old Faithful Road and parked. The geyser blowing at night was downright magical while the inside of the truck was dark and cozy.
“I was going to tell you before you left,” he said staring out the windshield, “but I didn’t want that to––”
“You didn’t want to influence what happened in El Paso?”
He looked at me, nodded.
“I love you, Scott. Nobody has the power to change that but you. Not Josh. Not anybody else.” Crawling over him, I straddled his lap, took his face in my hands, and kissed him. “I’m crazy in love with you, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this morning before I left.”
We went home after that and Scott made love to me. And once we were done and eating potato chips in bed, then I told him about Josh. How I drove away from his home satisfied, knowing he was doing well in spite of everything that had happened. I told Scott about the strange coincidence of seeing him at the gas station. How Josh had told me that what had happened with my grandfather had shaped him, had inspired him to want more for himself. How he often thought about me and hoped I was happy and loved.
Then I told Scott what I said to Josh. “I’m in love and I am loved. And that’s all I’ve ever really wanted.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Sydney
The sun was out that day and trees had begun blooming all over the property. It was early afternoon when Scott walked into my office looking lost, half-catatonic. I’ll never forget it. His face drawn tight, as immovable as the Tetons he loved. He must’ve come straight from a ride because he was sweaty, his shirtsleeves were rolled up, and flecks of hay were all over his jeans.
My stomach folded like a cheap tent, a major sign that something was very wrong. I should’ve known, though. I really should have known it would go this way. But a girl can dream, can’t she?
This wasn’t the first time fate had intervened to set fire to the fantasy I was fostering. This time had been different, however. For one hot minute, I’d actually believed Scott and I were going to make it, defy the odds and live somewhat happily ever after. The prospect of losing him for good made my entire body ache.
“What’s wrong?” I said, standing abruptly, my chair crashing backwards from the sheer force of it.
“My dad…” His guttural voice withered away.
I knew then that everything would change and not for the better. I’d been dreading this day for months. While Scott had been blissfully unaware of the situation, it had been slowly consuming me.
Tears began to stream down my face. I came around the desk and threw my arms around him, planted my face between his pecs. His arms hung limply at his sides at first. But as the numbness wore off, they slowly began to lift and wrap around me, squeezing so tightly I thought I felt a rib snap.
“How?” I had to ask. Even though I’d known what was inevitably coming, I hadn’t imagined it would happen this quickly. Well under the twelve-month time frame Frank had been given to live.
“My mother said he collapsed at home and hit his head.”
It was time to come clean and the knowledge sat as heavy in my gut as a bag of rocks. It had to be done, though. Was I terrified of Scott’s reaction? Yeah, I was. I loved him. I didn’t want to lose him and there was a very good chance that I would.
“Pack a bag. We’re leaving for New York in an hour,” he said and placed a kiss on my forehead b
efore pulling away.
“Wait…”
Almost at the door, he turned to face me. I paused to drink him in––to commit to memory the soft, sweet, vulnerable look on his face. Like he cared. Maybe the last time I’d ever see him look at me that way again.
“Did your mother mention anything else? Why he collapsed?” I pushed the words out despite my tongue feeling swollen and useless, and my lips tingling.
He gave me a quizzical look. “No,” he said. “I’m assuming a heart attack or stroke.”
Preparing for the worst, I took a few steps back, shifting uncomfortably on my feet, my knees shaking. A lifetime’s worth of habits, every trick I’d used in the past to keep an iron grip on my reactions flew out the window, taken from me when I needed them most.
“He had cancer, Scott.”
Scott blinked, no sign in his expression that he understood. In his eyes, I could see his mind searching for answers that weren’t there, explanations––anything to make sense of what I’d said.
“Cancer?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’d you get that idea?”
“He told me.” His brow wrinkled and I curled my shaking hands into fists.
“He told you? My father told you he had cancer?” His voice began rising and any hope I had of him understanding the position I was placed in evaporated. It was starting to sink in and I knew what was coming next. It was going to be brutal. Like standing tall on a shoreline in the face of an approaching tidal wave. I knew when it finally hit it could very well kill me, but there was no escaping it. Frank, God rest his soul, had robbed me of any chance of resolving this peacefully.
“He told me…he told me back in December.”
“In December…” he echoed softly, his expression constantly shifting with a turnstile of emotions appearing on his beautiful face. He went from being mystified, to being angry, to disbelieving…all the stages of grief.
