A broken heart undergoes varying degrees of pain, from a smarting sting to crippling desolation. I thought enduring it alone was the darkest level of hell. But as I watch Cole crouch beside the boxes in the basement and remove the wedding dress, I stagger beneath the combined weight of our torment.
With his back to me and his head angled down, he gently touches the crumpled white fabric. His spine bows through heavy gasps as he lifts the neglected thing and tries to straighten the wrinkles.
The sound of his strangled breaths slams my lungs together. His shoulders fall, pulling mine down with him. His knees collide with the floor, and I lock my legs, swaying in my attempt to stay upright.
I don’t want to cry anymore, but his regret runs deep, intensifying my own. Watching him come apart is a stake in the chest. I can’t even feel my heart. It’s just a gaping hole that won’t stop bleeding.
Trace volunteered to remain upstairs, despite the reluctance burning in his eyes. Regardless, I don’t think his presence would’ve stopped me from moving toward Cole. The need to console him crashes through me, trembling my chin and coursing tears down my cheeks. By the time I reach him and slide my hands over his back, he’s shaking as violently as I am.
He twists at the waist and hooks an arm around my back, pulling me onto his lap. His embrace is fierce, squeezing me tighter, closer, until all I feel is his heart thundering against mine.
With my arms around him, I prefer to straddle him in this position, but we no longer have that level of intimacy. So I keep my knees together and pressed against his ribs as we hold each other in an iron grip.
He hasn’t released the dress. As the tulle skirt rustles around us, I wonder what he thinks about it. I don’t ask, because it doesn’t matter. He’ll never see me wear it.
“I buried your ashes on our wedding day.” My voice breaks, thick with tears.
“I know.” His breaths thrash hotly against my neck, his lips like fire as they brush my skin. “I didn’t get out of bed that day. I just…I dreamed of you in this dress and drank myself into unconsciousness.”
Knowing he was hurting along with me doesn’t bring me comfort. “I haven’t been back to your grave site since the day of the funeral. The ashes—” My eyebrows crumple together. “Were they—?”
“Just ashes. No one was cremated on my behalf.”
Unsure how to respond to that, I continue with my train of thought. “Since you didn’t have instructions on your burial or any family to speak of, you just have a cement marker in the middle of a cemetery.” My eyes burn with damp regret. “I hated the whole arrangement and didn’t want to remember that day or the image of your name engraved on that stupid block of concrete. So I never went back. I put its very existence out of my mind. Which was easy since I drowned myself in a drunken stupor for months after you died.”
“I’m so sorry.” He makes a pained noise and rocks us back and forth, as if it hurts too much to sit still.
I rest my head on his shoulder, tighten my arms around him, and savor the warm scent of his skin.
Feeling him against me is a balm for my heart. The scratch of his whiskers against my cheek, the deep sound of his breathing, and the bunching of his muscles—all of it creates a dipping sensation in my chest and thins out my tears.
My brain questions how well I actually know him, but my body recognizes the perfect way he fits against me, the tempo of his heartbeat, and compelling aura of his presence. My body knows exactly who he is, and it vibrates to reclaim him in every way.
“I agonized over the timing of my death.” He sets the dress aside and strokes a hand through my hair. “When I severed communication with you and disappeared, I didn’t trust anyone, didn’t know who my enemies were. If they learned my true identity…”
“They would’ve found me.”
“Yes. Cole Hartman had to die for reasons I can’t tell you. It should’ve happened immediately, and every day I delayed put you at risk. But I couldn’t…” He cups the back of my head, holding my cheek against his chest as he draws a shredded breath. “I put it off for months, trying to find another way. As our wedding day approached, I knew I was out of time. I couldn’t let you wait for me at the altar. I couldn’t destroy you like that.”
“So you sent your handler to my house and destroyed me with the news of your death.”
“The alternative was your death.” He leans back and frames my face in his hands. “I know I’m asking you to blindly trust me after putting you through years of hell. But Danni, I need you to believe me when I say that everything I did, every second I spent away from you, was the only way to keep you from harm.”
“There haven’t been any attacks on my life.” I shrug jerkily. “So there’s that.”
His gaze delves into mine, and he slides a hand through my hair, tucking the strands behind my ear. “You’re as beautiful as I remember. Your soft little mouth, huge gray eyes, and the way you express yourself so vividly…here…” He trails a finger around the corner of my lips. “Memories of you haunted me in the best way possible. You gave me a reason to live. You kept me alive.”
“Can you tell me about it?” I touch his cheekbone, tracing the sharp angle. “About the years you were hiding?”
He shakes his head, his brow heavy with sadness.
“Not even little things,” I ask. “Like where you slept or who you were with?”
“It was a dingy hole in a nowhere town. I didn’t speak the language there and kept to myself.”
I scrunch my nose. “Do you know other languages?”
“Unë flas shtatë gjuhë.” His accent changes, softens, as he says, “Volim te više nego što misliš.”
“Was that…?” I gasp. “That was two different languages, wasn’t it?”
He sighs and kisses my forehead.
“Which languages?” I should be stunned speechless, but hearing foreign words uttered from his lips completely enraptures me. “The second one sounded like Italian.”
“No, questo è italiano.”
“Okay, that was Italian. How many more do you know?”
“Tell me about your dance company.”
“No, I want to talk about you.”
“Danni.” His voice dips, low and firm.
My knees bounce with frustration, but I’m fighting a losing battle. “I still have my company. I don’t teach anymore, though. My schedule at the casino keeps me busy, and the pay is more than I’ll ever need.”
He folds his hand around mine, brushing his thumb across my fingers.
Electricity tingles up my arm, quivering a sigh through my voice. “I have every penny that was transferred into my account when you died.”
Cole’s savings and death benefits exceeded a hundred thousand dollars, and I never touched it. I couldn’t bring myself to even think about it.
“The money’s yours,” he says tightly. “I wanted you to have it.”
“No—”
“I’m going to find another job. A safe job that doesn’t require travel.” The muscles in his neck go drumhead tight. “I’ll never make as much as Trace, but I’ll provide for you and—”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” My chest fills with sand. “You think that’s why I’m with him?”
“He’s loaded. It makes things easier, doesn’t it?”
Easier? He thinks any of this has been easy?
“Don’t put your insecurities on me.” I shove off his lap and stand over him, my voice shrilling through the basement. “You know me, Cole. You know I don’t give a flying rat’s ass about money.”
“I’m not insecure—”
“Why bring it up then? Why even mention his money?”
“What are you doing with him, Danni? He treated you like shit. You deserve better.”
“Oh, I do? I deserve you, is that it?” The vein in my forehead throbs. “You think I deserve someone who leaves me and makes me believe for years that he’s dead?”
“Dammit.” He leaps to his feet, his dark hair falling over his brow as he jerks his head toward me. “Listen to me—”
“No, you listen to me. That man upstairs, the man you trusted with my life, deserves every ounce of my love. Yeah, he can be a real asshole, but he’s ferociously protective and generous and…and he’s here. Always here. That’s why you asked him to look after me, right? Because you knew he wouldn’t abandon me. Think about it, Cole. He agreed to babysit a woman he never met for an entire year. A year that turned into four and a half years. He didn’t have to do that. He didn’t know me. He did it for you. And he never left. He stayed here.” My voice tumbles into a whisper. “He never left me.”
Cole flinches and flattens a hand against his chest, his expression devastated. But I’m not finished.
“Even when I deliberately hurt him, when I hooked up with that guy at a bar, he didn’t leave me.” My breath rushes out, taking my anger with it and leaving me depleted, dizzy. “He slept in my driveway, because he couldn’t leave me.”
“I didn’t want to leave you.” With a hand still pressed to his chest, he holds his fist in front of him, punching it down as he spits each word. “Walking away from you that morning, getting into that cab and leaving you standing there, alone…” He licks his lips, his voice fractured and hoarse. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and believe me, Danni, I’ve done some really hard things in my life.”
He stares at me for a lifetime, his hands coming together against his sternum, as if holding himself away from me. Or holding in his heartache.
I think he’s waiting for me to say something, perhaps something that’ll take his pain away. But I don’t have answers. I’m shivering so badly I can’t even muster my voice.
His chest rises and falls, and his beautiful face contorts into a picture of tragedy as he looks away.
My trembling grows frenetic in the quiet that follows. I want to scream at the injustice of it. I want to throw myself on the floor and curse the cruelty of love. I want to throat-punch anyone who says the heart knows things the mind can’t explain, because my heart is a loser. It’s wired to wreak me. Not just once, but over and over. And I’m scared. So fucking afraid of how this will end.
“Goddammit,” he whispers achingly, clasping his fingers on his head as he paces. “I’m not giving up on us. I won’t.”
“Look at us, Cole.” My shoulders slump. “We’re miserable.”
“So what?” He whirls toward me. “Yeah, it’s going to suck. Big deal. We’ll work through it. We’ll fight and shout and say hurtful things, because that’s what people do when they care, and I care more than you’ll ever know.”
His hands fall to his hips, and his gaze drifts over my shoulder, hardening into a murderous glare.
I turn and find Trace standing at the bottom of the stairs. Fingers resting in the pockets of his jeans and chin angled down, he watches us from beneath a scowling brow.
“How long have you been here?” How did I not hear him?
“You said asshole, and I figured you were talking about me.” His scowl twitches, giving me a trace of a smile.
I face him fully and don’t smile back. “If you knew there was a chance Cole would return, why did you propose to me? No more bullshit, Trace. I want a straight answer.”
“I didn’t know he planned to retire.”
My mouth opens, closes, and I glance back at Cole. “Is that true?”
“I guess I never mentioned it.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s none of his business.”
“You told him about my pussy ring. I’m pretty sure that was none of his business. But quitting a job you shared with him, retiring from something you were born to do? That very much qualifies as something you would tell your best friend.”
Cole stares at me, complexion ashen. Dragging a hand across his mouth, he paces to the futon and perches on the edge. Bending over his lap with his hands laced together, he bounces a leg and scatters nervous energy through the room.
“When you asked me to watch over her…” Trace stands still, his tone accusing. “You said it could be an ongoing thing.”
I whip my head toward Cole. “You lied to me?” My heart beats against my chest so violently I have to cough a few times to get it back under control. “You said—”
“I know what I said.” His brown eyes thrash with unwavering adamancy. “It wasn’t an easy decision. The job was a part of me. I know you understand that. It would be like asking you to give up dancing.”
The air evacuates my lungs. “I couldn’t.”
“Exactly. But the night I told you I was leaving for a year, I knew it would be my last mission. My job endangered you. It separated me from you.” He drops his gaze to the floor and lowers his voice. “With all those miles and years between us, it became very clear just how easy it would be to give it up. And I did. I quit the moment I returned to the States.”
He lets me chew on that, watching me with yearning and desperation.
The only sounds in the basement are our heavy breaths and the tick of the analog clock on the wall. It’s only eight in the morning, and the constant strain of the past two hours is starting to wear on me. I should be in bed, with Trace, dreaming of wedding plans.
I press my thumb against the silver band on my finger. Trace knew there was a chance Cole would come back, but he thought Cole would just leave me again. And again and again. That realization spider-webs through my mind, weaving all of Trace’s actions, desires, and impulses into a sticky net of protectiveness.
“You didn’t want me to be alone anymore.” I peer up at Trace, hating the worry pulling at his scowl.
“I fell in love with you, Danni, and with that comes a responsibility. Your happiness and safety trumped my loyalty to Cole.” Sadness darkens his expression. “You’re all that I am, and the moment I accepted that, protecting you was no longer a favor or a job. It became a prerogative.”
“So you bound me to you.”
“No, I bound myself to you.” His eyes flash to Cole and return to me. “I’m sick over the position that puts you in. But I will never regret the way I feel about you.”
Cole jumps to his feet. “How about instead of proposing to her, you waited until I came home? Who she spends her life with is her choice, her decision to make after she has all the facts.”
“I gave her the choice.” Trace snaps his spine straight, voice booming. “She chose me.”
“Because she thought I was dead!” Cole bellows, making me wince. “I will never forgive you, you selfish son of a bitch. You took the choice away from her and—”
“We all have choices. Right here. Right now.” I step between them, heart racing. “Cole, you can go back to your job. If it means that much to you, you should. It’ll hurt like hell, but if I can survive your death, I’ll pull through if you walk away.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Never again.” He plants his feet, hands on his hips, staring at me with equal measures of madness and determination.
Relief whispers through me. I can talk a big talk, but I just got him back. Losing him again would gut me.
I turn to Trace. “You knew he might show back up. What was your plan for that?”
“I didn’t have a plan.” Trace holds his hands behind him, shoulders back, a stalwart tower of formality and calm grace.
I appreciate his reserve now more than ever. Two hotheads in one room would’ve ended in bloodshed. But every man fights differently, and I won’t underestimate Trace. Whenever he strikes, I don’t see it coming.
Cole paces around me, blustering noisy breaths and stirring up the dust. “If you thought I would back down and let you—”
“I knew if you returned,” Trace says, “it wouldn’t be easy. Lines will be drawn. Rivalry will ensue. Because I’m not going anywhere, either.” He looks at me with that confident tilt of his head I adore so much. “I’m not leaving your side, Danni, until—” His voice loses strength, and he swallows. “Until there comes a point when I’m not the one you want. And even then, I’ll convince you to see the error in your decision.”
Mounting dread closes my throat. I feel so heavy, so weighed down with panic and helplessness. The ache behind my eyes returns, stabbing like a thousand needles. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, biting down and shaking my head rapidly, but I can’t loosen the grip of my emotions.
“I need…” Time. Space. A solution that doesn’t exist. “I need to think.”
I swivel toward the stairs with thoughts of escape, in my bed, where I can cry myself to sleep.
But what if they leave? They said they wouldn’t, but the thought stops me on the bottom step.
“Are you going to work?” I ask Trace.
Thankfully, today’s my day off. I might find solace in dancing, but not at the casino, where I’d have to smile and entertain a room full of strangers.
“I just called in and rearranged my schedule.” Trace searches my face, frowning deeply at whatever he sees in my eyes. “I’ll be here.”
I shift my focus to Cole. “Where are you staying?”
He goes still, his voice stunned into a whisper. “This is my home.” His hand presses against his sternum. “You are my home.”
I turn my head toward the top of the stairs, trembling against the rise of tears. “How’s that going to work? Are we all going to share a bed?”
“Fuck, no.” Cole flexes his jaw. “I’m not sharing you.”
Trace shakes his head, expression tight.
“I guess that means we’ll all be nice and cozy and celibate for the indefinite future.” I swipe at the spill of tears on my cheek and meet Cole’s eyes. “All of your things are down here. You can sleep on the futon.” I motion toward it. “I spent the night there a couple months ago. It’s comfortable.”
Trace regards me with his lips pinned together and questions firing in his eyes.
“If you stay here,” I say to him, “you can sleep on the couch in the front room.”
Without waiting for his reaction, I force my heavy feet up the stairs.
Until running footsteps pound the steps behind me.
“Danni.”
The urgency in Cole’s voice freezes me in place, and I glance over my shoulder.
Standing a few steps below me, he grips the railing, his eye contact strong and steady. “It’s never too late to start over.”
My chest constricts. I did start over, and he’s standing behind Cole with enough love shining from his blue eyes to light up a whole city.
And that’s the problem.
They both love me.
We’re not broken.
We’re just…stuck.
Despite their deceptions and missteps, their intentions were neither malevolent nor selfish. Cole faked his death for me, and Trace kept Cole’s secrets to protect me.
I don’t condone their lies, but what they did is forgivable. Understandable. Which means there’s nothing to fix.
Maybe Cole’s right. Beginning again might be the only solution.
I just wish I knew what that meant.