Chapter Twenty

Hailey

“I should go,” I say three weeks after our first kiss. “If Mila gets up and I’m still here, there may be questions.” I smile at him as I get on my tippy toes to kiss his lips.

“But I don’t want you to go,” he whines as he wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my lips and then my neck.

We have been going very slow. After his talk with Norma, he sat down with Mila and told her that we were friends and that I would be around more. Mila, of course, did what every four-year-old did; she shrugged her shoulders and asked if she could have cake before dinner. I’ve been over a couple of times. We don’t kiss in front of her, but when she goes to sleep, all bets are off. When I don’t have dinner with them, I walk over after, just so I can hug him. I don’t even need to kiss him. I lie … I need him to kiss me.

I smile at the thought of him, and sometimes I sit at my desk and just think about him. It’s come so easy, and naturally, it feels like it was always like this. That the pain we’ve both felt was in another lifetime.

“The sun is coming up,” I tell him as I kiss him one last time and walk out the back door. He stands in his jogging pants and t-shirt watching me leave. I’m familiar with his whole body. We haven’t been under the clothes yet, but I know his ridges, and I know his firmness—I actually know his firmness really well since he’s constantly firm around me. I breathe in the warm air; it’s getting warmer now. I walk down the wet sand as I make my way around the bend, the seagulls out in full force today. The wind blows my hair in all sorts of directions. I look at the mist of the water as it splashes on my face. Walking up to my back door, I push it open and head inside, taking off my Uggs before stepping into my bedroom.

I look at the clock and see it’s almost seven, then hear some noise coming from the kitchen. Cupboards being banged. I walk into the kitchen and gasp when I see Gabe in the kitchen, obviously searching for a coffee cup.

“What are you doing here?” I walk to the side where we keep the coffee mugs.

“Your cousin wasn’t answering her phone last night, so …” He starts talking when Crystal comes in.

“So he decided coming here at one a.m. and throwing rocks at my window was a good idea.” She opens the fridge, getting out the milk and her lunch bag.

“I wouldn’t have to do that if you had just answered your phone.” He pours himself coffee, and as I take in his jeans and t-shirt, the tattoos on his arm seem bigger.

“There was no need to answer my phone.” She shrugs, taking out some cereal and pouring it into a bowl.

“Because you hate being wrong.” He points at her, and her eyes narrow. The box of cereal smashes on the counter.

“I’m leaving,” she says, grabbing her purse, keys, and lunchbox. Turning to me, she says, “Blake should be here late today. He called last night.”

I nod at her as happiness fills me. I haven’t seen my brother in over two months and so much has changed. “Oh, you answered his phone call!” Gabe says when he grabs his jacket and heads to the front door where Crystal stands.

“Well, he isn’t an asshole,” she counters when she opens the front door. “How are you getting to work?” she asks him when he laughs.

“You are going to drive me. I took a cab last night.”

“I’m not showing up with you in my car.” She turns on him. “People will see.”

“And that’s a problem because?” He puts his hands on his hips. “What’s the matter, babe? Scared they might think you have a thing for me?”

She shakes her head, laughing. “Trust me, the last thing I have is a thing for you.”

“I’ll remember that the next time you are beg—” She runs to him, covering his mouth with her hand.

“Get in, I’m dropping you off at the corner. I’ll slow down so you can tuck and roll.” He smacks her ass as she turns, earning a glare from her. “I won’t even slow down now.”

Gabe throws his head back laughing as he gets in the car and leans over to kiss her. What has me raising my eyebrows is that she lets him. Crystal has always said she is never getting married, never settling down. She adamantly insists she is happy being alone. She crossed kids off her list when she turned nineteen, vowing to be the best aunt she could possibly be. I watch her drive off as Gabe picks up her hand and kisses it, smiling at her.

“That poor, poor man. He has a better chance landing on the moon than changing her mind.” Shaking my head, I walk back inside, putting the cups in the sink and the cereal box away. I grab my laptop and head upstairs to my office to answer emails when I hear a knock on the front door. Walking to it, I open it and see my brother’s smiling face.

I leap into his arms, and he catches me in his big strong arms. I bury my face in his neck as tears come to my lids. Not sad tears, just happy, happy that he’s here. “You’re here,” I say when he lets me go. I step back, giving him room to come in, carrying his bag in with him.

“Look at you.” He points at me. “You look amazing. The fresh beach air suits you.”

“I think so.” I smile when he comes in and looks around. “This is my home.” Looking around, I see that it really is mine.

“Looks amazing.” He walks to the fireplace and picks up a picture of Crystal and me taken last weekend when we went to the farmers market. “You guys look like this is where you’re meant to be.” He puts the frame down and walks to the kitchen. “I’m starving.” Grabbing some leftovers from last night, he pops them in the microwave, then leans back on the counter. “So what else is new?”

The question is a loaded one, and he doesn’t even know. I haven’t told anyone about Jensen, only because I’m not sure what to say. “Nothing really.” I shrug. The microwave beeping saves me this time. I know by the time he leaves, he will know all about Jensen. “Did you come here right after your shift?”

He nods his head as he digs into the pasta. “I’m bone dead tired. If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower and crash for a couple of hours.”

“Mi casa es su casa.” My house is your house. I joke with him. “There is a twin bed upstairs, but you won’t fit in it, so you can have my bed.”

“You sure?” he asks as he puts the container in the sink, and I nod. He kisses my cheek. “You look fantastic.” He looks into my eyes when I smile.

“Go, we will catch up later,” I tell him, pointing at the hallway where my room and the shower are. I walk back upstairs to my office when I hear the shower running. Opening my browser, I start working on the website for Heidi and Delores. I have all the things lined up when I hear a soft knock on the door. Getting up, I walk downstairs, but Blake beat me to the door. He swings the door open as he stands there shirtless and in his shorts. My mouth opens as I see Jensen standing there glaring. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks as Blake now stands up straight, his muscles going tight.

“Who the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you?” he hisses. I run down the stairs and step in front of Blake and smile to a white-faced Jensen, taking in his fists beside him.

“This is Blake,” I tell him, trying to get him to look at me and not Blake. “My brother,” I say, the words finally clicking as he looks at Blake and then down at me.

“Oh,” he says as I turn to look at Blake. “This is Jensen Walker.”

Blake doesn’t say anything and just nods, and Jensen puts his hand out. “My friends call me Walker; your sister and my grandmother are the only ones who call me Jensen.” Blake reaches out to shake his hand. They both stand there, eyeing each other.

“Okay,” I say when I push my brother so his hand releases from Jensen. “You were going to nap, so go.”

He looks at me and then at Jensen. “I’ll see you around.”

Jensen just puts his chin up, accepting the invitation. Blake walks back toward my room as I watch him and then turn back to look at Jensen. “So what brings you by?” I say, leaning against the door. The sight of him in his dusty work clothes, thick sweater, and construction boots have me almost fanning myself.

“Well, I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I would swing by and get—”

I smile, walking to him. “You thought you would get what, exactly?” I wrap my arms around his shoulder as his hand grasps my waist, bringing me to him.

He leans in, kissing me. “Some of this.” He kisses the side of my lips, then down to my neck. I move my head to the side to give him full access right before he comes up and takes my lips.

“Well,” I say when we pull apart. “You can pass by anytime for that,” I tell him as I bury my face in his shoulder.

“I guess you aren’t going to come down tonight?” he asks when I look behind me.

“Not sure, but I might be able to sneak over just to get some.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him as he smiles, kissing me once again before turning to walk back to his truck.

I lean on the doorjamb, checking him out. “Nice ass, Walker,” I shout, and he turns and looks over his shoulder.

“I could say the same,” he says. Climbing in his truck, he drives away. I close the door.

“So he’s the reason you look like you do?” Blake asks, standing in the doorway to my bedroom. I walk over to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge. My throat suddenly dry like sand.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I tell him, avoiding his eyes.

“Your glow, your eyes, shine.” He walks into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table. “I was expecting to come here and find the shell of a woman who had her heart broken. The defeated look you had when you packed up your car and took off.” He puts his hands on the table. “I expected to see you withdrawn. I expected to see you locked away.”

“Well,” I start but stop when he lifts his hand.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing.” He shakes his head. “Trust me, it’s fucking great. I’m just surprised is all.”

I nod, taking another sip of water, and walk to the kitchen table. Pulling out the chair and sitting down in front of him, I know I have to give him the truth. “I will be honest … when I got here, I was broken, empty, shallow. I felt like I wouldn’t be able to go on the next day. It was like I was the one who was dead. I was the one buried in a box with everything crashing down on me, crushing me. Every single time I took a breath, my chest hurt; my heart beat, but nothing else came out of it. It was beating to beat. But then I came into this broken-down house, and let me tell you, it was broken down. I thought Crystal was going to hightail it back home, but I went to the beach and I sat down on the cold sand, the waves crashing into the shore, and I felt as lost as the waves did. But then I felt something else even though at the time I didn’t know what. Now that I look back, I think I just felt at peace. So even if the house was in shambles, I knew this was where I wanted to be. It was where I had to be. So I moved in and the house was a disaster, but in a weekend, it was perfect.” I swallow. “And every day, I used to sleep maybe two, three hours tops, but I would wrap myself in a blanket and go outside, and I would watch the waves crash into the shore. I would think of all the little things Eric did to try to understand why.” I look down at my hands, thinking of how far I’ve come. “I would wonder what I could have done differently to be that person he needed. Or I would try to see if I missed any signs he had another woman. I mean seriously”—I laugh but the tears get me also—“how could I not know he was with another woman? How could I not see the lies that came out of his mouth? How could I not be that one person who made him complete?” I swallow as Blake squeezes my hands.

“You were not the problem,” he tries, but I stop him.

I nod my head. “Oh, I know that now, but I didn’t back then. I went through every memory and dissected it to see if I missed something. A clue, a word, something to see if it was in front of my face this whole time, but”—I shake my head as my thumb wipes away a tear in the corner—“but it wasn’t there. No matter what I did, I couldn’t see it then, and I couldn’t see it now. I loved him. I really did, with all my heart, but then I hated him.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I hate him. I hate him more than I loved him. And I hate that I hate him; I hate that he did this to me. That he took what I thought was the love of my life and made me hate it. I hate that he took the love I gave him and made it into a lie.”

“It wasn’t all like that. He did love you.” Blake reaches out, and I put one hand on top of his.

“No, he didn’t because if he did, he would never have done what he did.” I shake my head. “He would never promise to love me till we grow old together when he already made those promises to someone else. When he already promised her more. Fuck, he had children with this woman.” I throw my hands up. “You see, he didn’t love me. He was just selfish. He didn’t love me; he loved himself.”

“Hailey …” he says.

“No,” I slam my hand on the table. “There are no words you can say that will make what he did okay. Nothing you can do or say will change my mind on that. There are no pictures you paint that will make it okay, but”—I inhale—“with all these memories and thoughts, I came to a conclusion. I deserve the fucking world. I deserve to have a man who will not only love me and only me but also won’t have to look elsewhere to be complete. That is what I deserve. I deserve to be put on top of the pedestal and kept there.”

“You think that guy can do it?” Blake points at the door.

I inhale and answer the loaded question as honestly as I can. “All I know is that I would never have to doubt Jensen. I know he calls me just because. I know when he has a shitty day, he talks to me about it instead of saying, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ I know he would never take off for work and not call at least once a day, and most of all, I know he would never lie to me. I haven’t known him that long, but I know in here”—I point at my chest—“that my heart trusts him. That what he says is what he means. And that means everything,” I tell him, and he nods at me.

“There are some things I need to tell you.” He starts off, looking at me and then down at our hands. “Things that happened after you left that you should know.”

I pull my hands away from him as I eye him, and he gets up and goes to my room as I watch him disappear and then come back out with a white envelope. “Now, I want you to hear me out before you say anything.” I look at him as he sets the envelope down in front of him, my eyes never leaving the bleak white envelope.

“Eric left you a letter,” he says, and I gasp, my heart racing like a million horses running in a field. My hands fly to my lap, shielding itself from touching that white envelope. “A month after you left, Samantha showed up looking for you.”

“What?” I whisper as my heart never does get back to a normal heartbeat.

“She went by your old house because that is the address Elliot gave her.” He looks at me to see if he should continue or not. “The new owners gave her my name. She showed up at the firehouse.”

“Why the fuck would she show up at my house?” I ask him, wondering what she was thinking.

“She isn’t the evil one you think she is,” he says as she looks down and something glitches in his eyes. “She had no idea anything was happening. Or that he was leading a double life.”

“I’m finally fucking happy, so why can’t he let me be fucking happy?” I say, pushing to get up from the table. “I don’t fucking want that letter. I don’t want to read it; I don’t want it in my house,” I say to the universe more than to Blake. “Better yet, I don’t fucking care.” I storm out the front door, slamming the door behind me. Angry I left my own house. Angry I let it get to me, but more so angry he has now tainted my table with his bullshit. I turn to walk to the back, down to the water, down to where I can find myself.