Chapter Five

Lucas

I feel almost human after some spicy tomato soup and scrambled eggs. Blake had a few bites, claiming that he wasn’t that hungry due to jetlag. Then he disappeared, telling me to eat to start making up for the last three days. “You can’t win a war on an empty stomach.”

Bossy bastard. But I have to admit he’s right about eating. I stand up and stretch my legs. Maybe it’s the full belly or maybe it’s something else—the weather is absolutely gorgeous this morning—but I feel more grounded. Stray thoughts are no longer tumbling around inside my head, and for once I have a bit of clarity.

Just then, the door opens and Blake walks in, bringing the cool breeze from outside with him.

“Where have you been?”

He dumps his keys on the narrow table by the door where Gail places the mail. “Just checking out the community. It’s surprisingly nice. Cheaper than Boston, too.”

I narrow my eyes. Blake’s passion is for technology startups, and I doubt that’s changed in the last two years. “Don’t bullshit me. Houses aren’t your thing. That’s why you have a special advisor handling your real estate portfolio.”

“A man is entitled to indulge his curiosity.” Blake comes into the living room and takes a seat. “Guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” I have a bad feeling about this. Blake is entirely too pleased.

“Ava Huss.”

“What the—? You went to her house? What the hell were you thinking?”

He snorts. “I don’t even know where she lives. Besides, do you think I’d be crass enough to do that? She was outside, jogging.”

I don’t understand. Ava hates jogging. She told me so.

Blake continues, “There’s nothing wrong with striking up a conversation.”

“So…how is she?”

“Fine. Better than you actually. At least her skin hasn’t been scrubbed raw, and she doesn’t look like she hasn’t eaten in the past week.”

I ignore the jab, relieved that she’s been taking care of herself. Knowing her terrible childhood, I don’t ever want her to go hungry. Then it hits me: he actually spoke with her, which makes no sense at all. “How did you get her to talk to you?”

“I said hello like any normal human being. You should try it sometime.”

I shake my head. “She hates you. Said you were nasty to her two years ago.”

“She mentioned something about that. The thing is, I really don’t remember. So yeah, I might’ve said something to her. Who knows? Couldn’t have been that important.”

His arrogance is breathtaking. “It’s because of you that I had so much trouble in the first place. You made her leave.”

“I didn’t make her do anything. She chose to go.”

What the hell? “You think she still would’ve left if you hadn’t said those things to her?”

He stretches his legs out and lays linked hands on his belly. “If she thought what you guys had was worth fighting for, yeah, she would have stayed no matter what I might’ve said. But she didn’t. Doesn’t that tell you something? Wake up, Lucas. Ava thinks you’re the enemy, and you’re treating her with kid gloves. That has to change.”

“Are you fucking serious? I’m not going to treat her the way you treat the women you sleep with.” Women are like condoms to Blake—one-time use only. “She’s special.”

“Uh-huh. And how did your special snowflake treat you when you showed up with that pot full of dirt? Did she light up and say hello? Or did she pull away like you were a slime monster?”

Dirty.

Don’t touch me.

What did I say about touching me when you’re dirty?

Don’t be greedy.

You’re toxic.

I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, my teeth clenched tight.

“What do you really know about her?” Blake’s question cuts through the ugly voices in my head.

I sigh. “Where are you going with this?” With Blake, there’s always a particular conclusion he wants to lead you to.

He continues, “You say she’s special, but you don’t really know much about her past, do you?

“She’s loyal. Caring. Capable of putting others before her. I don’t need more than that.” Those are the qualities that drew me to her in the first place. I’m not going to lie; her looks also had something to do with my attraction…but if I hadn’t glimpsed those other aspects, I would never have fallen for her as hard as I did.

Blake regards me patiently, like I’m five. “Anyone can fake that stuff. Look, you need to adjust the way you view this whole”—he gestures at me, in the direction of Darcy and Ray’s house, the whole neighborhood—“situation.”

“You’re giving me relationship advice now?”

“Somebody has to. And I’m not letting you continue with what you’ve been doing to yourself anymore.”

I cross my arms.

“Unless, of course, you think that what you’ve been doing is working.”

Touché. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”

“Unless you know your enemy really well, you can’t win.”

Some advice. Blake should never be a relationship counselor. “Ava isn’t the enemy.”

“Really? Then why don’t you have what you want?”

“What the hell kind of question is that?”

“A pertinent one. You have an answer?”

I have no good response to counter his crazy logic. “She’s who I want, except she thinks that I betrayed her. Goddamn tabloids!”

“Tabloids have little to do with it. Fuck decency and what the world says is fair. To win and get what you want, you have to be willing to go the distance. You have to use every weakness your enemy has, and you have to be ruthless. Zero mercy. Then you can win.”

“What the hell, man? If I go that route, she’s going to hate me.”

He shrugs. “She already hates you.”

The four simple words stop me. Her contemptuous expression drips through my consciousness like acid. She found my effort pitiable, my hands grimy, my very presence about as pleasant as a pile of dog shit left on her nice front porch. My mouth dries, and I surreptitiously wipe my hands on my pants.

Blake isn’t finished dispensing wisdom. “Why did you go see her in the first place? When you got Elizabeth’s package. Surely it wasn’t to win her back, was it?”

No. I wanted to take back what I lost when she left me—my warmth and vitality. And she gave me a glimpse of something even better in that one week. Now that she’s taken it back again, I feel colder and emptier than ever.

“You changed course, you let your guard down, and what happened?” Blake grows serious. “You should never let anyone who doesn’t love you in. And most importantly, you should never love anyone who doesn’t respect you enough to be honest about what she’s doing. She played you like a dancing monkey, the same way Betsy used to. Jump this high. Good, now higher. If you jump high enough, I’ll give you what you want! You’ll be rewarded!” He pauses. “Were you ever rewarded?”

My throat closes. Suddenly my mind is flooded with memories of how my mother used to make me promises—be good, stay clean, don’t touch her…then I’ll take you to Disneyland…I’ll take you to the movies…I’ll take you to see Santa…

Except she never kept her promises, no matter what I did. She always found something to object to. I walked too loudly. I was sweaty after playtime in the park. I was standing too close to her.

Blake continues, “Ava set you up, Lucas. She wasn’t going to give you a chance no matter what you did, but she made you jump through the hoops anyway.”

I shove my hand into my hair and clench until my scalp hurts. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hate every syllable out of his mouth, but I can’t deny what he’s saying is true.

She did set me up.

Two weeks of gut-twisting anxiety. Sleepless nights filled with hope, then despair. A coolly delivered rejection. Always the same fucking message—no matter how hard I try, I’m not worthy. I stop as the image of how she looked the last time passes through my mind. As beautiful as an angel I can never hope to touch… Her platinum hair flowing behind her, and her eyes flashing a huge warning sign that screams, “Stay away.” I bared my soul to her. Told her I loved her…and she called me toxic.

The harder I try, the more contemptible I become.

My pathetic fantasy of her being so miserable she’ll welcome me back into her life is exactly that—a fantasy. She’ll never welcome me back. She’ll curl her lip, make it crystal clear I’m unworthy.

That I’m fundamentally, intrinsically too flawed to be redeemed.

Why did I ever harbor such a sad little hope? Haven’t I learned better? Shit like that happens in movies, not in real life. If I got hit by a truck, she wouldn’t look twice.

Suddenly I’m pissed off.

I did nothing to hurt her. The whole fucking marriage-for-paintings deal is Dad’s doing, and the leak is Wife Number Three’s fault. I never treated Ava unfairly, never lied to her.

Why should I feel bad? Why should I grovel?

I’m not some kid desperate for approval and love. That shit’s over. I cut ties with my mother for that reason, and I’m not waiting decades before I finally get it through my head that it’s over with Ava.

If she hated me, found me so lacking, she should’ve just said so, instead of playing me the way Mom used to when she wanted to see how far I’d go to earn her love.

“You’re right,” I say.

Blake nods. “She doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

“Good call.”

“Someplace warm.”

“Why don’t you try L.A.?” Blake says. “You’ve been gone for too long. Everyone would love to have you around, and you can stay at my new place. I got a penthouse. Three levels.”

“When?”

“A few months ago. Got tired of Boston. Too close to Virginia.” Too close to our despicable father and his vapid new wife, he means. “I’m only in and out of there, and I wouldn’t mind sharing it. It has two giant suites anyway, although the master suite is mine.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll take the closet.” Knowing Blake’s taste, the place is going to be large and expensive.

“Perish the thought. Elizabeth would flay me. The change of scenery will be good for you.”

“I know. But before I can go, I need some closure.”

“Closure?” Blake raises an eyebrow. “Don’t kneel and beg for crumbs. She’s not worth it.”

My hands clench. Leave it to him to sum everything up with such stark clarity, even if it’s something I don’t want to hear. There is still part of me that wants to try again with Ava, but fuck it. Everything he said is right. Hope is for the weak, so they can keep digging without realizing they’re making the ditch too deep to get out of. A toxic drainage ditch. “I’m not begging her for anything, but there’s a debt between us, so I need to settle that before I go.”

Blake smirks. “Make her pay dearly.”

I don’t bother to correct him. It would only make him argue with me more.

It’s me who owes her. But once my debt is cleared, I’ll be free.