I adore fifties’ and sixties’ black and white movies. It’s always embarrassed me how nerdy I am sometimes, and I never allow anyone to know this about me. So, when I didn’t hear Slade come in and tears were rolling down my face with laughter at the movie I had chosen, I jumped a mile when he slurred from behind me. “You have a great laugh, princess.”
I shoot a mile in the air, the throw covering my legs slipping to puddle on the floor as I land back on the couch with a plop.
“Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me!” I blow out a breath and place my hand on my chest like it will placate my sprinting heartbeat.
His smile is wide, but not mocking, just kind of warm. Although he is evidently drunk, his eyelids drooping slightly, he looks down at me with a softness in his eyes. His gaze finally lifts to the TV and a rush of heat travels up my face.
“Great movie!” He grins as he vaults over the back of the couch and lands beside me.
My jaw falls open in shock and I stare at him in confusion. “What?”
“Gotta love Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”
My eyes shoot from his face to the TV and then back to him again. “You do?”
“Sure. Most Audrey Hepburn movies actually.” He shifts, pulling something from his pocket. “Speaking of Tiffany’s.” He grabs my hand and wiggles off my big fake ring and throws it across the room.
My mouth drops open. “What the hell?”
He opens a small black box and pulls out a diamond ring. My heart is stampeding in my chest. He slips the stunning ring up my finger and grins. “Perfect, just like it’s owner.”
“Slade,” I breathe, inspecting it. It’s huge and so clear it looks like a water droplet.
“It’s real, princess. Stop inspecting it.” He nudges me.
“I’m going to call it Frost,” I announce, and he throws his head back and hoots.
“You don’t name jewelry. It’s not a pet.”
I shrug. “I’m going to adore it like it’s a pet. Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
I can’t stop staring at it. I sense his eyes on me and my body hums with awareness. “Yes, princess. It sure is.”
I’m unsure what to say next when Slade picks up the fallen throw and tosses it over our legs. After a few minutes, he turns to me. “You want some popcorn?”
I nod, trying in vain to hide the grin forming on my lips. “Yeah.”
Reaching for the controller, he pauses the movie and shoots up, returning within a few minutes with a huge bowl of still steaming popcorn and two beers. Settling the bowl between us on the couch, he maneuvers the blanket back around his legs and we fall into an easy silence as we watch the movie.
It’s after around a half hour that I feel the comfortable atmosphere shift faintly, and I take a side glance at Slade. His eyes are on the floor, his attention on the movie gone, and a deep crease of worry crumples his forehead.
“You okay?” I ask softly. It’s obvious that he’s not, and it’s even more obvious he won’t talk to me about his problems. Therefore, I’m stunned a little when he sighs heavily and turns his body toward me.
“VP has cancer.”
My heart lurches and I grab his hand, giving him a comforting squeeze. “I’m so sorry. Nasty fucking disease. Not only destroys its victim, but every damn person within the circle of mercilessness it creates.”
He blinks at me, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Who did you lose?”
“My mother.”
He returns the squeeze I gave him. “I’m sorry.”
Shrugging, I give him an appreciative smile. “Dad was never the same after. I was to blame, of course.”
“For your mother’s cancer? How can it be your fault?”
“It can’t be. Didn’t stop him condemning me for it though.”
He peers at me and I’m not sure if he’s angry or full of pity, so diverting, I ask, “Is your VP’s treatable?”
“Nah. Only got a little time left.”
“Oh no.” Sadness eclipses my heart with the sorrow pouring from Slade. “You think a lot of him.”
He nods. “Yeah, I do. Been there from the beginning. He’s a tough one. Give him his due, the fucker can still neck the booze, and he’s still built like a linebacker.”
I rear back, a little staggered. “What? He’s only got a few weeks left and he still looks healthy?”
“Damn straight. He’s in his fifties and still looks forty.”
“My mom looked eighty in the end.”
Slade, catching onto my bewilderment, shrugs. Everyone’s different I suppose.
Quickly shaking my head, I place my hand on his wrist to placate him. “Oh, I’m not saying anything bad, like I want him to be suffering. I’m just amazed how he still looks so well. Cancer ravaged my mother’s body until she was unrecognizable. And it just took from her so quickly. Within a few weeks she was gaunt and thin, then over a period of twenty days, she couldn’t even take herself to the bathroom. Cancer is a vicious disease and it doesn’t allow for dignity. It takes over your body and it destroys it until all you pray for is death. It will be hard on any man, but one like you? It’s not surprising that he’s hiding it well.”
The beat of my heart slows to a dull thud as memories assault my mind and drive agony through my veins. I stare at the TV but I don’t see the images that dance across the screen.
“You know,” I whisper as tears of grief puddle in my eyes. “She begged to die, Slade. She practically screamed at me to kill her. And the poor woman still had six agonizing weeks of life to torment her. It kills me little by little every day. The thought that I could have saved her from that much pain…”
He pulls me to his chest and envelopes me in his strong embrace when sobs surge from me. It feels good to let it go, and to know that the person listening and soaking up my grief is genuine. My father had held me for a quick second when misery had become too much to contain, and it had spilled from me in heartbreaking heaves of anger and sorrow. But he hadn’t wanted to comfort me. He had been stiff, almost as though my need for comfort was shameful.
Slade, however, held on to me so tightly I knew I wouldn’t ever fall into the pit of despair that forever haunted me when I allowed these feelings about my mom free.
“It would have destroyed you, doing that for her,” Slade whispers in my ear as one of his thumbs tenderly grazes my cheek to wipe away a few of the tears. “God knows it would have. Your momma loved you, Avery. Although she begged it of you, in her right mind she wouldn’t ever have put that on you.”
“I know. I know that,” I admit. “Still doesn’t stop me thinking those thoughts on a bad day though.”
“Today is a bad day?” He gently moves me back and playfully narrows his eyes on me. “How can today be a bad day? You’re hitched to the hottest guy in town. Your new environment suits you, and you have a glow to your cheeks.” He winks. “And you got to watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s with my special popcorn and beer.”
I chuckle and wipe my tears away. “I hardly think they were homemade by you, Slade.”
He gasps dramatically and slaps his hand on his chest as if I’ve offended him. “Hey! I’ll have you know, I, all by myself I might add, removed the popcorn from its plastic pocket and placed the brown bag in the microwave. I did that, princess. Give me some credit here. Oh, and I managed to pop the lids from the beer.” He nods proudly. “You hurt me, woman!”
I’m laughing so hard at his infectious humor that he can’t keep his face straight and he’s laughing hard with me.
“Don’t ever say your old man is a useless piece of shit. At least the times when you’re ill and can’t cook, you know I will sustain myself with popcorn and beer!”
“And Audrey Hepburn,” I add between giggles.
“Yes! Maybe we should invite her over for your Bolognese, and a threesome for desert.”
The abrupt heat between my legs makes my belly throb, equally surprising and mortifying me, and trying to hide my arousal from Slade, I cough and hastily attempt to change the subject when the credits roll on the screen. “So, another movie or bed?”
His lips pull up and he raises his eyebrow up in question.
“A movie it is.” I hit him in the gut and he pretends to keel over.
Around an hour later, I’m woken by the strength of two arms lifting me from my bed and carrying me into another.
“You’re too upset to sleep alone, Avery. You sleep with me,” he whispers into my ear, the warmth of his beer-scented breath easing me.
I’m too groggy to speak, but when he pulls me into his chest and snuggles me into him, I can’t help but relax.
“Stay strong, princess,” he whispers as my eyes slide closed.
“Stay safe, Slade,” I mumble before the safety of being in his arms lulls me into a deep and trouble-free sleep. The first in weeks.