It’s not a pizza and beer kind of night like last night was. The mood is somber, and everyone goes their separate ways. Lizzie and I exchange numbers, and then Brian and I ride back with Mark in his chauffeured Yukon. Mark stares out the window the entire time rather than engaging in conversation. Brian scrolls his phone. I’m caught looking between brothers as I debate who might need me more.
Pops passed away shortly after we’d all gathered in his room. Even Dave made it in time, and I was relieved Lizzie had him there. The only one left without someone to hold his hand was Mark.
Gram shooed us all out even though everyone wanted to stay. She said she’d be going home, too, and Diane and Paul stayed to drive her when she was ready. There wasn’t anything left to do. The funeral will be in a couple days, so now I’m stuck at Mark’s place in Chicago as I fight my feelings and lie in bed with a man I’m not sure is the right one—but I’m also not entirely sure he’s the wrong one.
Brian breaks the silence in the back of the Yukon. “Life’s so short,” he muses, sticking his phone in his pocket.
Neither Mark nor I answer, and Brian looks over at me.
“You know what Lizzie asked earlier?” he says.
My brows draw in.
“About when we’re getting married?” he clarifies.
I suck in a breath.
“I think we should do it. We’re not guaranteed time, you know?”
Mark makes some sort of strangled noise on the other side of the car, but I’m so shocked by Brian’s words that I can’t even comprehend what’s going on.
“You think we should get married? Are you serious?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Sure. Why not? We love each other. We have fun. We share a lot in common.”
My gaze edges over to Mark as my heart pounds. I can’t help where my eyes automatically turn even if I wanted to. He’s looking so hard out the window I think he might disappear right out it. “I...um...I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.”
Brian nods and looks disappointed. “Just wanted to put that out there. I think we’re moving in that direction. Don’t you?” His voice seems louder than normal in the small, suddenly suffocating backseat of the Yukon.
I shouldn’t be here with Brian; I should be across the car next to Mark. His hand should be on my thigh and my arms should be encircling his.
I feel like he’s putting me on the spot, and in front of Mark no less. I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I have no idea how to answer his question—I wouldn’t be prepared for it if the two of us were alone and he asked it, never mind how to answer in front of Mark after everything we’ve been through.
For a while, I thought someday far down the road we might move that direction, but that was before Mark admitted his feelings for me. That might’ve even been before I knew Mark and Brian were related. But I only thought it because that’s the progression, isn’t it? You date, you fall in love, you get married. It’s sort of the ending victory of the whole dating game.
But it isn’t the ending victory I want with Brian. I just don’t know how to tell him that in the back of Mark’s car an hour after his beloved grandfather died.
I think about Mark’s words to me earlier. We’re done...over. There’s no hope left with him, and Brian’s the brother I’m meant to end up with after all. He wants to marry me. He thinks that’s the direction we’re headed.
I guess he could be the one who’s meant to lead me to my happy ending after all.
“Maybe,” I finally mumble.
Mark’s eyes never move from the window, and I finally turn my gaze out there, too.
* * *
“I need to go out for a while,” Brian says after I’ve kicked off my shoes and fallen into bed.
“Okay, let me just get my shoes back on.”
“Alone,” he says.
I shouldn’t feel hurt by that, but I do. I sit back like he slapped me. I should feel relieved he’s leaving—now I can find Mark and talk to him.
Except I know I won’t. Mark told me it’s over. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, and piling on top of his loss tonight isn’t going to help. Instead of focusing on my own pain, my own hurt, I’m choosing to focus on being whatever Brian needs during this time of loss.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes on my hurt expression. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh. I just need a minute to myself after what happened, you know?”
I nod. “I understand. But I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
“I know. Thank you.” He steps over to me and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I was serious about what I said in the car.”
“About getting married?”
He nods. “Just think about it.”
“I’ll think about it.”
I haven’t even given him an answer to moving in with him and he’s throwing around the idea of marriage. It’s obviously misplaced, coming from his pain. He presses his lips together then disappears out the door.
I scroll my phone for a few minutes after he leaves. I’m not tired enough for sleep yet. I don’t want to be alone. There’s too much in my head, too much loss. Mark and I are finished. Brian’s running off and leaving me behind. I miss the days when everything was uncomplicated, when I was just an English teacher out for the summer who lost herself in romance novels and lounged by the pool with a margarita.
Now my life is flipped upside down by a pair of Fox brothers, and I don’t remember which way is up anymore.
I finally decide to call Jill. She knows most of what’s happened, and she’s always there for me to offer some perspective. I dial and gear up to discuss everything that’s happened over the past few days, but the call goes to voicemail.
Of course it does. She’s probably out with Becker having a good time. I think about calling my sister, but there’s too much to rehash, and she’s probably out having a good time, too, while I sit in misery on the bed I’m sharing with Brian in Mark’s house.
It takes me all of thirty seconds to realize I’m restless. I don’t know what to do with myself, and without even thinking about it, I find myself putting my shoes back on. I wander out to the empty kitchen. I don’t imagine I’ll run into him, but I sort of want to. I sort of want to yell at him. I sort of want to tell him he’s an asshole who can go to hell after kissing some other girl last night when he promised he wouldn’t. The other half of me wants to hug him, to offer comfort because I know he needs it—not just because of his grandpa, but because of what’s happening between us.
He didn’t want Brian to have to suffer the loss of his grandfather and me at the same time, yet he’s allowing himself to suffer both losses. I think of Lizzie’s words about how Mark puts everyone else first.
I walk through the empty family room, fingering the bookcases and finding them free of dust, naturally. I try to imagine Mark picking up a feather duster, but the image doesn’t quite form correctly in my head. I wonder where Brian went. I wonder where Mark is. I wonder how I’m going to get out of this mess. I’m starting to think it’s best to just end things with Brian after the funeral and stay the hell away from either of them.
But a life with Brian Fox doesn’t sound bad. I do love him. He’d be a great provider, a competent husband, a good father. I’d still teach at Desert Lights High School. We’d live in Vegas together, each off to our own jobs every morning. He’s already admitted he wants a future with me and even brought up the idea of marriage. He’d be gone a lot because of work, but my life would remain essentially unchanged with him.
But how important is that to me? I need my own identity, of course, but teacher doesn’t have to define who I am.
Without even thinking about it, I find myself wandering up the staircase toward the roof. It’s empty up here. I think about sitting on the couch where Mark and I sat just last night, but I can’t bring myself to sit there. It’s too gut-wrenching to think of everything we’ve all lost since last night.
So much has happened in such a short amount of time.
Last night I was positive Mark and I were going to end up together, but then my day started with pictures of him with another woman. I’m still devastated by that, and even if by some miracle Mark still wanted to be with me, I’m not sure if I could get past the betrayal. I’m not sure how I’d be able to trust him again, and trust would obviously be a huge part of a relationship with him. I can’t exactly date one of the most famous musicians in the world without trust. I can’t exactly be by his side all hours every day. He’d need freedom, and I’d need to believe that he’d always come home to me, that there’d never be anyone else for him. I convinced myself earlier that I’d be able to move past those pictures, but I’m not sure if that’s true...especially not since he admitted what I saw in the pictures really happened.
I’m trying to justify what he did. I’m trying to find some glimmer of hope where there just isn’t any left. I’m trying to cling to him with a loophole because I was so sure that what we had was going to work after just a few days. But just like all the fantasies I had as I slept at his place for just one night before Brian stepped into my life—it’s all just a pipedream.
I collapse in a chair by one of the fireplaces that overlooks Lake Michigan. I stare out over the blackness. I miss home. I miss Jill. I miss movie nights with wine and simplicity.
I’m not sure how long I’m up here when my phone buzzes with a text. I pull it out of my pocket, assuming it’s Brian letting me know where he went or possibly Jill checking in on me after she missed my call.
It’s neither of them.
Mary: Destiny.
My heart races as my eyes drink in the only word that matters.
Me: Already up here.
I stand and walk over toward the door he’ll emerge from, and when he walks through it, nerves flitter uneasily around my stomach. I rub at the ache in my chest.
He’s beautiful in the dark, a silhouette backlit by the lights of the buildings behind him. I take a step toward him and read the hollowness in his eyes. We’re in one of those old Wild West showdowns, and I don’t know who’s going to fire the first shot. I’m not sure if he wanted me up here with him so I could hug him, comfort him, or be the metaphorical punching bag he needs to get out his emotions.
I realize as I gaze across the space on the roof that I will be whatever he needs me to be regardless of our conversation earlier today.
He doesn’t speak. Instead, he rips his eyes from me and walks over toward the couch. Instead of sitting, he grips the handrails and looks out over the city.
I keep the silence as I move to stand beside him. The metal handrail is cool against my sweaty palms. I look down at the ground nearly seventy stories below. Cars move along the street like everything’s normal when it just isn’t. From up here, they look like the Matchbox cars Pops always sent Brian on his birthday.
Mark leans forward so his elbows rest on the railing then clasps his hands in front of him. His eyes shrewdly survey the buildings before us and I wonder what he’s thinking. Is he drafting some song in his head? Is he thinking about Pops, the fragility of life, his brother and me? Is he thinking about the woman he kissed last night, comparing her to me in his mind?
I can’t take the silence anymore. “Why did you want me to meet you up here?” I finally ask.
He blows out a long breath but continues his study of the buildings. “I don’t know.”
“You told me it’s over. Did you mean that?”
He finally straightens and looks over at me. “I don’t honestly believe it’ll ever be over between us, Reese, but what the fuck are we supposed to do?”
“We’re supposed to fight for it. We’re supposed to try instead of giving up when it gets hard.”
His eyebrows pull down as his eyes grow hard. “I’m not giving up. I’m simply living in the real world.”
I blow out a mirthless chuckle. “Like you have any concept of the real world.”
He looks supremely offended. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’ve spent your whole life flittering from one meaningless relationship to another, and when you finally find something you think has potential, you try to ruin it before it can ruin you.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’ve heard it, all right? What does that have to do with the real world?”
“You live this fantasy life and think nothing can touch you, nothing can get to you.” The threat of tears stings behind my eyes. “But I know the truth.” I jab a finger into my own chest. “I know who you are inside. I always have. I know you want your brother to be happy. I know you put other people first. But the real world means actually feeling something instead of burying yourself in work or liquor or women.”
“You think I don’t feel things?” He takes a menacing step toward me as his eyes flash with anger. “I feel things so hard that I have to get it out with some other outlet.” He grabs me around my waist, his fingers digging roughly into my flesh, and pulls me toward him. “Women, booze, music. It doesn’t matter, it’s where I get rid of the shit that builds up inside me as I sit idly by and watch everyone else get what they want.” I think of Brian. Mark is storing up all this rage because he thinks he did the right thing in pushing me into his brother’s arms. “You want to be that outlet? You want me to unload all the shit on you? You think you’re strong enough to handle that?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m not.”
He looks momentarily surprised, like he expected me to drop to my feet and beg him to hand over all the heartache he stores inside himself. That’s what any other woman would do—that’s what every woman who has ever walked into and then out of his life has done. Everyone wants to be the one Mark finally chooses, but those other women weren’t strong enough for him. They didn’t know him, not the way I do.
“It takes two,” I say, resting my hands on his forearms. “I think you give me some of your load and I give you some of mine and we bear it together.”
He pushes my hips away and resumes his position at the railing as I stumble backwards a bit. “Goddammit,” he mutters.
I still don’t know what he’s thinking, still don’t know why he’s fighting us, still don’t know what happened last night with that other woman. Despite all that, though, and despite the shattered mess he’s made of my heart today, all I want to do is pull him into my arms to comfort him. All I want to do is offer some way to make him feel a little better after he lost his grandfather. I want to throw everything out of my mind and hold him in my arms and tell him everything’s going to be okay, that he’s going to be okay, that we are going to be okay.
But I don’t know if it’s going to be okay, and his position against the railing tells me he doesn’t want me to say any of that.
I collapse on the couch behind him and stare out over the buildings he’s looked at countless times. I try to imagine what he’s thinking. Is he composing lyrics to his next number one single in his head while he looks out there? Is he thinking of me and how we got so close? Is he teetering on the edge between running back into my arms and thinking he did the right thing by pushing me toward Brian?
I don’t know, and I still don’t know why he asked me up here. He’s confused, and I get that. He wants to talk, but he doesn’t know how to express himself. I can’t do it for him. I can be here for him, I can take some of his load, I can even be his punching bag...but ultimately he’s the one steering this ship. He needs to decide what he wants.
I can’t continue to be the ping pong ball as he goes back and forth. Of course I want to be with him—not because he’s Mark Ashton the rock star, but because he’s Mark Ashton Fox, the man my heart belongs to. But we’ve leveled up in a game that is far too advanced for me.
It’s time for me to tap out, to go home and leave Mark behind me. What if Brian is the one I’m supposed to be with after all? What if I had it right this whole time and I was just too blinded by the rock star to see the goodness I had right in front of me?
He runs his hand along his jaw then through his hair. He turns around and his eyes find mine. They’re still full of confusion, but now I see fear there. Vulnerability. A little boy who’s lost, who wants to build Legos, who needs a hug.
I gather up all my courage to tell him I’m done, to tell him we’re better off avoiding each other from now on while I try to figure out things with Brian.
I’ve made my decision, and though my heart is breaking because of it, I need to stand up for myself. If he doesn’t know how to be in a relationship because he’s never been in one before, he can test drive someone else. He’s pushed me away one too many times, and I’m done. I’m officially getting off the teeter totter.
It kills me to say the words, but I force them out. “I think it’s best if I focus on my relationship with Brian and you and I just avoid each other from here on out.”
He doesn’t respond, merely looks at me with all the pain and vulnerability that he can’t hide from me.
“It was you who told me to do that. You who said I’m better off with him. You who told me it’s over. I’m just trying to do what’s best for all three of us.”
A slice of my heart breaks off on that rooftop, a slice that will forever be in the hands of Mark Ashton. But I said what I needed to.
He opens his mouth to respond, but then his eyes move up and over my head before he gets a chance to speak. I hear a door slam—the door that opens to the stairwell back to Mark’s penthouse.
His jaw snaps shut.
Someone else is up here.
“What are you doing here?” Mark asks. I almost stand up to see who’s there, but I realize the couch is hiding me. If it’s Brian, I don’t want him to know I’ve been up here with his brother.
“Looking for you.” Brian’s voice cuts through the night, and my heart races.
“Why?”
I hear a laugh, and I can picture Brian’s cocky smile. “I think it’s time we had a talk.”
Mark steps around the couch without looking down at me, without drawing attention to the fact that I’m here.
“About what?” Mark asks.
“You know what,” Brian mutters.
I freeze on the couch as I strain to hear what they’re saying without making a sound. I’m terrified Brian’s going to step around the couch and find me here. He can’t find out about Mark and me, not this way—especially not if I want to try to fix things between us.
“Are you drunk?” Mark asks.
There’s a beat of silence and I remember Mark telling me that Brian tends to make bad decisions when he drinks.
“Yeah. So?” There’s a short pause and some rustling, then Brian says, "Did you think I wouldn't find out?”
“Find out what?” Mark asks.
“About the two of you fucking each other behind my back.”
My heart stops as an icy fear filters through my veins.
He knows.