by Read, Calia
I cross my arms and forge ahead. “Was I merely like every woman you’ve been with?”
A look of horror crosses his face. “Absolutely not. You’re more than that. I—”
“Because I love you,” I say in a rush. My heart is beating so fast my entire body shakes. I’m surprised I can get the words out. “I don’t know how I let this happen. But it did, and I do. And I thought you should know the truth. I love you, and I believe these strong feelin’s won’t go away anytime soon.”
I exhale and wait for Livingston to reply. But he just stares at me with his mouth partly open, and his brows furrowed. I hate this silence. It’s maddening.
“Livingston, say somethin’.”
He shakes his head ever so slightly. The bewilderment fades from his eyes. “If I was to ever want to hear those words, I’d want them to be from you. But Rainey—”
I lift my hand, cutting him off. I take a step closer to him. “Please don’t say you love me as Miles’s little sister or Nat’s best friend. Do you love me?” I repeat, emphasizing every word by tapping his chest, where I know his heart still beats.
I want him to speak, whether good or bad because Livingston is so remarkably skilled at responding with his body. There’s never any need for words. But my question is worthy of an answer.
I am worthy of an answer.
Livingston captures my hand, linking our fingers together, and takes a deep, shuddering breath. The longer he remains silent, the further my heart breaks. It’s an interesting thing. The breaking of a heart is never heard by another soul, except for the person it belongs to and the one doing the breaking.
“Rainey, we both know how temporary life is no matter how permanent it may seem.”
He delivers his words with a conciliatory tone that, at first, I don’t sense the rejection weaved throughout them. I rather he was blunt and to the point.
Inaudibly, I swallow and remind myself not to cry. “So you will spend your life alone, keepin’ the company of people who have zero substance and no love to give rather than findin’ people who want to love you and believe in you?” I say, my voice croaking at the last words.
Livingston flinches as though I’ve struck him. “Not fearful. Aware.”
I want to fix this beautiful broken man so, so much. If I had the option to choose between making Livingston’s life pain free or having mine financially secure, I would select a pain-free life for Livingston.
“It’s fear,” I press. “You are your own worst enemy.”
What I’m saying is the truth, and we both realize it. Livingston stands on the doorstep of the past, and I can’t pull him back to the present.
But Livingston sees I’m getting far too close to the truth. His shoulders stiffen as though he’s preparing for what I may hurl his way next. “You don’t know what I’ve gone through, Rainey. It’s my decision how I choose to live.”
For several seconds, I can only stare at him. “You’re right. And it’s my decision to find someone in this world who will love me the way I deserve to be loved.”
His eyes briefly close. “I know you do,” he says, his voice breaking.
Livingston knows, yet it still isn’t enough. All the time we spent together I was slowly falling in love with him, believing that maybe, just maybe, he was falling in love with me too. But for him, I was simply a warm body for his arms to wrap around. I was someone who made it easy for him to forget his nightmares.
“You were right to warn me not to fall in love with you, and I was wrong not to believe you.” I don’t wait for Livingston’s reply. I leave him standing there with his hand outstretched, preparing to grab my arm.
After several seconds, he shouts, “You’re gonna leave?”
I don’t reply, but my heart wants me to. So badly.
“Fine. I don’t need you! I never did!” he shouts.
Don’t respond. Don’t respond. I pause on the first step. My eyes briefly close. If Livingston’s intentions are to take a knife and drive it as deep into my chest as possible, then he’s succeeded.
Don’t respond.
Abruptly, I turn around. Because I’m headstrong and impetuous. The need to find the last word and capture it as my own is far greater than my rationale.
I rush toward him in a fury and don’t stop until we’re a hair’s breadth away. “Of course you need me, you foolish man. I was born for you. What is a king without his queen?”
Livingston stands there with his mouth slightly parted. I’ve stunned him into silence, and he’s devastated me into pain.
I take a step back, my voice calm and even. Inside, though, I’m slowly crumbling. “Don’t ever speak to me again.”
He calls my name. I continue to walk up the steps; what is there to say? We’ve already said our truths. There’s nothing left of me he can possibly break.
When I enter Brignac House, I walk up to my room. A part of me desperately hopes Livingston is trailing me. Maybe he didn’t mean what he said just now. I don’t look behind me because I don’t want to further break my heart or let him see me cry. But as I step onto the second floor, I realize how foolish my hopes are. Why would he follow me?
When I reach my room, I don’t go inside. I rest my back against the door, close my eyes, and allow my tears to fall. I should’ve never let any of this begin. But I can’t very well blame Livingston for everything. When he attended my dates, I engaged in conversation without fail. I let him into my room time and time again. I simply don’t know where to go from this.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I told him where you were.”
Quickly, I sniffle and wipe away my tears before I lift my head and see Nat standing at the end of the hallway. She blends in remarkably well with the shadows with only her nightgown and robe standing out. Does Nat make it a custom of walking the halls of Brignac late at night, or is this new?
I push away from the wall, trying to regain my composure even though she most certainly saw me begin to fall apart outside my room. “I didn’t know you were up.”
Nat takes a step forward, crossing her arms. “I didn’t know my brother could run after a woman. Seems we’re both surprised tonight.”
I fight the urge to drop my head into my hands. “You heard us outside?”
“Of course. I was in the sittin’ room, and listenin’ to the two of you.”
“Oh.”
“Brignac House is the darkest and loneliest home I’ve ever had the misfortune of livin’ in. Havin’ you, your momma, and Livingston here has brought life and joy to this suffocatin’ place,” Nat confesses in a flat tone.
“Nat.” I take a step forward, intent on comforting her, but she lifts a hand, stopping me in my tracks.
“I’ve been consoled and hugged so much these past few days. I can’t bear one more.” She leans forward and gives me a bleak smile. She’s trying so hard. “Let’s pretend we’re back at Belgrave. Let’s pretend I never met Oliver, and the war never happened.”
Her words send a chill down my spine because they can reach out and touch nearly everyone in the world. We’ve all been affected by the war. If we all had the chance, I think we would wish away the damages and heartache that came with war. Miles would still be here. So would Oliver. And Livingston wouldn’t be the shell of the person he once was.
I nod and give Nat a shaky smile. “Okay. Let’s do that.”
Sitting back, Nat smooths the material of her nightgown across her knees. “You love my brother, don’t you?”
It seems extraordinarily wrong to place my burdens on someone whose pain is greater than mine. That’s why me, Momma and Livingston are here to begin with. To let Nathalie know we love her.
“Who Étienne?” I ask, feigning indifference. “I love him as a brother. He’s a stern man but has always been kind to me.” I finish my words with a smile.
Nat doesn’t smile back. “You know which brother.”
My smile fades, and my heart begins to pick up speed. Averting my gaze, I look at the floor. “I
’ve loved Livingston before I knew what the word meant.”
“My brother is a fool. But most men are.”
Sadly, I nod. I don’t have much experience with men. Just Livingston. But what he’s shown me has hurt so badly.
There’s a silence between us that neither of us try to fill.
“My family is penniless,” I say aloud.
“Is the telegram Étienne sent about you?”
Closing my eyes, I nod. I’d forgot about what Livingston said. What waited for me at home felt impossible to face. I didn’t know what to do now. Everything felt utterly hopeless.
Nat turns toward me. “The invitation I received for a bachelor ball isn’t connected to your family’s financial problems, is it?”
My brows lift; I’m surprised no one informed Nat about the dowry, Livingston’s involvement, or the bachelor scheme. Then again, I didn’t tell her either. When she moved to Savannah, Georgia, I rarely saw or spoke to her. It seemed as though she carved a new space next to Oliver and enjoyed being Mrs. Claiborne. “Serene conceived the idea about the bachelors.”
Her eyes widen as though that’s explanation enough. “That sounds like somethin’ like she would suggest.” Nat pauses. “But why a bachelor ball?”
I proceed to explain my situation from start to finish, making sure to leave no stone untouched. I tell Nat about each bachelor and the outings I’ve been on with them. I tell her about the dire situation my family is in, and how Livingston and Étienne had been pouring through the accounts to see if anything could be salvaged.
Speaking privately with Nat in such a manner makes me feel as though everything is back to normal. The one thing that’s missing is Nat’s cheerful demeanor. I don’t know if that will ever return because when you lose someone you love, you lose a piece of yourself.
“If Livingston was reluctant to be your executor, did he offer his assistance in a different form?”
“Yes.”
“Money,” Nat says flatly.
“You know your brother quite well.”
“But you declined.”
“I did,” I confirm.
“Because you’re far too set in your ways and refuse to accept what you consider charity. Especially when the benefactor is my brother.”
“It’s not that simple.” Abruptly, I stop talking. “Well, it is,” I finally concede. Resting my head against the wall, I think of my next words carefully. “Have you ever loved someone so much, you would do anythin’ not to endanger that love? I just know he offered me money out of obligation to Miles, and I don’t know when or if I’d ever be able to pay him back. Sooner than later, Livingston would resent me. And contrary to what everyone may think, I’m fond of the…disagreein’ we do. Well, used to do. I think I destroyed what relationship I had with your brother.”
“I understand more than you know,” Nat says quietly.
When I look at her from the corner of my eye, I see her staring at her hands. At that moment, I know without a doubt, she’s thinking of Asa Calhoun. I was made privy of how she felt about him early on. For the longest time, I was the only person Nat confided her feelings to, and although I couldn’t fathom what she saw in Asa, I didn’t tell a soul.
The day Nat told me Oliver proposed and she said yes, I told her to be certain and not to make any rash decisions because I saw how she and Asa looked at one another. And in the summer of 1913, the two of them spent a lot of time together. But then everything abruptly changed, and then Oliver appeared.
Nat assured me that Oliver loved her, and that was all she needed. But sitting here now, I knew it wasn’t. For Nat, it always came back to Asa. I understood that now. I never thought it’d take me having a broken heart to come to that realization.
I exhale loudly before I speak. “Then you know why I couldn’t take his money.”
“I do.”
It feels good to be understood.
Sighing, I briefly close my eyes. I need to be getting to my room. Livingston will be coming upstairs soon, but I don’t want this time with Nat to end. It’s quite remarkable really. I came to Savannah under the impression that my best friend needed me, and I would do the consoling. But in this hallway tonight I needed my best friend far more than I realized.
I look at her, watching as she looks straight ahead with a faraway look in her eyes. “Will you be okay after we leave?”
She glances at me. “Will you be okay after you leave?” Nat asks, skillfully turning my question back onto me.
The very thought of traveling back to Charleston and going about my life makes my heart drop to my stomach. “No, but I don’t have a choice.”
Nat nodded, her face showing no emotion. Seeing her so detached and removed from reality is still hard for me to accept. I can’t decide if the Nathalie sitting beside me is a grieving widow or a woman grieving for the life that she could’ve had. I believe it’s both. I believe it’s going to take a long time for her to heal, and she can’t do that here. Just a few days at Brignac House and I’m anxious to leave.
“Come home,” I say instinctively. I would hate myself if I didn’t ask. “Everyone would love to see you, and you can meet your nephew, and shake your head at everythin’ Serene says.”
The smallest of smirks graces Nat’s lips. There’s a brief flash of the Nat I know and love, but it’s gone before I can take a breath. I lean in and lower my voice. “You can’t grieve here.” Urgency coats my words. “You just can’t.”
As if to prove my point, there’s a loud wail that comes from the private quarters of the house, toward Matilda’s rooms. I jump and stare with wide eyes down the hall.
Nat shakes her head and looks at me. Her eyes are sad. “No, I can’t. I need to stay here.” There’s a louder scream, this one followed by the sound of an object shattering against the wall. A bleary-eyed servant rushes upstairs.
“Nathalie,” I say with urgency.
“I’ll be back. I think I always knew I’d come back. Perhaps not in this way.” If Nat’s careful with her words and even more so with her eye contact. She knows as well as I do that if I’m able take one good look, I’ll be able to see the truth.
“Were things so bad between you and Oliver?” A chill sweeps through me as I say his name. It feels decidedly wrong to be asking such a question the day after his funeral, and in his own home. But this is a question that has weighed on my mind. It needs to be asked.
“Not … bad. Just wrong,” Nat confesses, all the while she manages to keep her gaze fixed on the floor. “Wrong because we were wrong for each other. People make wrong decisions when they’re hurt or angry.”
In an unforeseen show of affection and gentleness Nat grabs my hands between hers and cradles them. She looks at me with eyes that have seen too much. “Don’t let that be you. Don’t make a wrong decision.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Livingston
I am the first one up the next morning.
Probably because I didn’t sleep a wink. I spent the entire night agonizing whether I should go to Rainey’s room and tell her how I truly feel, but the truth is, I don’t know how I feel. The mere thought of her going back to Charleston and proceeding with this bachelor façade makes me see red and builds a fury in my chest that’s almost impossible to contain. However, I know it’d be selfish of me to keep her to myself when I know she wants a family someday.
I’m not surprised to see that Rainey doesn’t arrive for breakfast. No one makes mention of it. I certainly don’t plan on it. Nat claims Matilda is feeling under the weather and is laying down. I don’t know if that’s the truth, or not. But this is the most comfortable meal I’ve had at Brignac House.
It’s only when our luggage is being taken to the car and Lenore and I are saying our good-byes that Rainey comes downstairs. I thoroughly look her over, trying to see if there’s anything that might show she had a restless night. But she looks beautiful as always.
Before I went to bed I passed by her room and stopped. I wanted to go inside
and be with her. It was a need that went beyond myself. My fingers twitched and my arm lifted toward the doorknob before it stopped midair. I didn’t deserve to be in the same room with her.
“Nathalie, I wish I could stay longer,” Rainey says as she goes in for a hug.
“I’m grateful you came for the time that you did.”
Rainey pulls away, looking my sister in the eyes. “If you need anythin’. Anythin’ let me know, all right?”
Numbly, Nat agrees and walks us out the front door. I, for one, am ready to leave Savannah. I don’t want to say good-bye to my sister but this has been the most peculiar trip with eccentric people, and unexpected behavior. My own being the most unpredictable. I don’t know what possessed me to charge Loras. When I stepped into the Breymas home I searched for one face: Rainey and found her next to Loras. He regarded her with more than open curiosity or friendliness. He was attracted to her, and it seemed as though with every word she spoke he leaned in closer to her.
Let her go.
When Loras said those three words, all I envisioned was letting Rainey go and watching her leave me, only for her to never come back. The idea felt as though my heart was being ripped out of my chest. I was going to lose something vital to my existence and this pompous bastard would be the reasoning for it. And like an angry brute, I allowed my Lacroix temper to get the best of me and charged him. I didn’t have regrets immediately following. In fact, I’d never felt more alive. I wanted everyone to see Rainey didn’t belong to them.
But all too quickly I would make a mess of things and destroyed any hopes of her belonging to me.
The car door slams behind me. I place my head against the headrest, and sigh. On our way to Savannah, I felt the heavy weight of Rainey’s gaze but as we begin our journey back to Charleston it’s almost as if I don’t exist. She converses with her momma. They discuss the weather, a brunch Leonore has the following week, and a charitable auction their church is hosting in two weeks.
