by Shayla Black
“That would be good for us,” Carter agrees. “I’ll ask Aria if she’s up for cooking.” All the while I stare at Addison, waiting for her to give me some sign that she’s all right.
Anything. I need something from her.
“I’ll ask her,” Addison quickly speaks up, then adds, “I’d like to talk to her anyway.” A weak smile lingers on her lips as my brothers nod in agreement. It’s quiet for a moment and I can see the questions in her eyes.
“Anything else?” I prod.
“Were you talking about Walsh?”
My brothers stay quiet. They handle their relationships the way they want and I do the same. I seem to be the only one failing though. “Do you want in on the details?” I always ask. She knows when something’s wrong, when I’m worried. When things have gone to shit. I’d never make her an accessory, but I’ll give her what I can if she wants it.
“No,” she answers, and her smile turns tight, forming a straight line before she drops her hands to her sides and says she’ll head out to talk to Aria.
“How are you doing, Addie?” Jase asks her before she can leave.
“Better. I think I just needed a hot shower.” Time passes with a click of the clock, a second that waits for what else is on her mind. A piece of me is dying to scream for her to speak up. To ask. The piece that wants to tell her everything. The other part of me, the bigger part, wants to shield her.
She leaves as quickly as she came, which is probably for the best.
The less she knows, the less stress she’ll have. She doesn’t need to worry about this shit. It’s our mess. Not hers.
I need to fix this. I just don’t know how.
3
Addison
Cody Walsh. A million questions linger in my mind after looking up his name online all last night. More questions scream in my head when I think about what Daniel confessed. They killed a man years ago who deserved to be hurt. They killed him because of what he did to me. They killed him.
How many moments have gone by where I’ve mentioned my childhood in passing? Or lack thereof, rather. We talked about how I was in home after home. When we found out I was pregnant, it was all I could think about. All I could talk about.
I was worried I wouldn’t know how to be a good mother, because I never had one. It opened the floodgates for all those memories. When I was young, I didn’t even think I’d ever be able to get pregnant. Just the thought makes my stomach churn; it’s because of what he did to me. The doctors said the scar tissue on my cervix could make it harder to open. I had problems and complications. All the aftermath of the man who was supposed to take care of me.
I brought it up maybe three or four times in the last two months when we found out I was pregnant. I couldn’t not talk about it. No matter how much I hate to go back to those times in my life.
Daniel had so many opportunities to tell me, but he never did.
I never asked, but how would I have even known to question it? Fear has been replaced by something else. Something larger than it. A dying need to know.
“Hey.” Aria’s tone is already consoling when she greets me, ripping me from my thoughts as I place the heavy porcelain plates on the counter.
I didn’t expect to feel this way toward her. There’s a gap between us now, when only weeks ago, nothing separated us. Now I’m careful with what I say and how I say it. I’m careful I don’t put this sadness on her. Just like she’s careful with me now.
“How’s it going?” she asks.
I can hear the emotions in her voice just as easily as the clank of the dishes. The sympathy, the guilt I know she feels because she’s still pregnant when I’m not. She and Chloe, Sebastian’s wife, are carrying so well. Glowing is the correct term. And then there’s me, dull with a forced smile as I turn to her, leaning the small of my back against the granite counter.
“Hey, yourself,” I answer her with enough pep in my voice to lighten the tension. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. It’s life. It’s death. It’s whatever fate has in store. I don’t want her to look at me and feel pity. I’d rather she look at me and see how happy I am for her.
That’s one shining light in all this darkness.
“We’re cooking for everyone tonight, if you’re up for that?” I ask her.
“Family dinner tonight?” Aria eyes me curiously as one perfectly plucked eyebrow arches. She knows something’s up, but she doesn’t ask. She used to always ask.
“Does that mean something’s going on?” Chloe asks as she enters, the faint sound of bags rustling carrying through the kitchen with her. Her husband is best friends with Carter and his right-hand man, but she doesn’t live in the main house of the estate like the rest of us. She and Sebastian have a place deeper in the woods; it’s still protected though. At first, I thought it was sweet for all of us to live so close. But the more I think about it, the fact that we need to be protected, the more it startles me.
I watch as she sets a large brown paper bag down on the table, her belly protruding, round and an obvious sign that she’s in her second trimester.
Taking off her light jacket, she lays it across the chair and then smooths her flowing cream blouse down her front.
“Carter told Sebastian and he told me,” Chloe says, answering the unspoken question. “I brought everything for cheesecake,” she adds easily with a genuine smile. She doesn’t look at me like I’m broken, but that’s because she doesn’t know me well. She doesn’t see how off I am like Aria does. She can’t tell that I’m damaged goods because she doesn’t know what I was like before. It’s comforting, really.
“So?” she questions. “Is something going on?”
“What do you mean?” I have no idea what she’s referring to. “Something is always going on.”
“Well, have you guys been doing family dinners where this is normal, or is this a way for the guys to keep us in line?”
“I never thought about it like that.” The murmured words are accompanied by a deep line settling into my forehead as I consider it.
“If something’s up, Bastian better tell me,” Chloe comments as she unloads the contents of her bag on the table.
“No, nothing’s up. It’s a little tense right now. But no more than usual. The only thing eating at Carter is a cop who’s getting to Jase. He caused a little stir yesterday.”
“How do you know for sure?” I ask her.
“Carter keeps me updated. We have a little ritual. It calms him and keeps his head clear to talk things out.”
“I can’t imagine how that could be calming.” I don’t realize I’ve spoken until the words are out there and the room goes quiet.
Chloe’s huff is amused when I look at her with wide eyes. “You’d be surprised how much a conversation is worth.” Her gaze falls for just a moment, but I see it happen. The haze of a smile falls along with it. “How have you been?”
Aria’s been popping grapes in her mouth, but she pauses when Chloe ventures into that territory. Her bump isn’t so visible. Our babies would have been about a month apart.
It’s hard to contain the deluge of emotions.
“You can say it sucks. Or that it hurts. Or that you’re better or worse… You can tell me to shut my mouth too and mind my own damn business,” she offers after rattling off a list of appropriate responses.
I feel like it’s my fault. Like I should have known better. I say the words in my head, because I can’t admit them. Not to Aria and Chloe. Not to Daniel. I don’t even want to know that’s how I feel. But I do.
“We should make dinner,” I suggest in a whisper. “Just because I’m suffering a loss doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for all we have,” I add and Chloe gives me a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“The dinner for the non-worrying mob wives,” Chloe jokes.
“We are not the mob.” Aria hisses the admonishment before eating another grape. “It’s been hectic and there’s always something to worry about, but—”
; I don’t want the tears to fall, but I can’t hide them. My face is hot and my breath comes in short pants. The next inhale is harsh, and with it, both women come to me. “I’m sorry,” I say, and my words are strangled as I rush past them for a napkin on the table so I can stop it all.
“Don’t say that. Don’t be sorry for crying. I’ve always thought that was the silliest of things.”
“It’s good to cry.” Aria’s voice is so soothing. She is my rock in all of this. She’s steady and we share so much in common. She grew up in this life though. She didn’t run away from it all. “Sometimes crying — showing mourning, showing vulnerability — leads to the best things.”
I respond with the one truth the last six months has taught me and say, “You can’t be vulnerable in this world.”
She counters my statement as I swipe the napkin under my eyes, drying them, calming my breathing and feeling foolish all over again.
“Of course you can,” Aria corrects me. “We all are. Trying to hide that isn’t going to fool anyone.” She emphasizes, “We’re all vulnerable.”
All I have in response is a sniffle and then I rest my head on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to cry though; I don’t want you to think seeing you guys makes me sad.” I can barely get the statement out, because it’s not entirely true. Still, I don’t want them to think it.
We hide truths like that, don’t we?
“So, weird thing,” I blurt out, cutting off Chloe, who no doubt has something sweet to say, and instead I help her move all the items on the table to the counter as I speak. It’s back to business, back to cooking for this non-worrying dinner. “Did you know Jase has a girlfriend?” I ask them and my tone is so much peppier than I feel. I heard once though, if you speak like you’re happy, you’ll start to feel like it.
“Carter told me a couple of days ago. She’s funny but with a dry sense of humor and she’s very blunt.”
“Sounds delightful,” Chloe jokes.
“She’s also coming to dinner, I think.”
Aria eyes me before grabbing a large bowl from the lower cabinet and I take that as my cue to unwrap Chloe’s cream cheese.
Looks like the dessert will be done before the actual meal at this rate.
“Bastian also mentioned she’s a nurse. Should be good to have one of those in the family.”
“Family,” Aria says and rolls her eyes.
“I didn’t mean in a mob way.”
“Her last name is Fawn,” I comment to no one in particular and unwrap the next bar of cream cheese. “I wonder if she knows if we’re related.”
“Like biologically? Or from… Is your last name your mother’s or did you get that from a…?” Aria stops mid-thought and it’s then that I realize from the look on her face that she was going to say foster family but stopped herself because she thought it would hurt me to hear it. She stopped herself because she knows about the fresh wounds.
She knows because Carter told her.
Or maybe she’s known since I came back. I wonder if Carter told her everything all the way back then.
“You know I still love you, right?” I question Aria and quickly add, “And that I’m happy for you, both of you?” I look between them both, hoping they know it’s true. I may be held together by glue and tape and questioning my decisions, but I know I’m happy for them.
“I know,” Aria answers with kind eyes. She repeats, “I know.”
4
Daniel
Tyler always hid it from her. He was good at it though.
Tyler’s all I can think about as we sit down at the table. Three brothers and a friend. One brother late, as per usual. Another never coming to a family dinner again.
He didn’t have this problem with Addison. He was good at hiding it. He hid so much from her; I just don’t know how he could do it.
“The candles are a nice touch,” Addison says and smiles warmly at Aria, who does a small curtsy and the three girls let out a peal of feminine laughter.
Addison’s is short, genuine. But it disappears quickly. It’s like the warm water of the ocean, splashing on the tips of your toes before retreating all too soon. I miss it already. I find myself staying still, wanting it to come back.
The day must’ve gone well for her. With a glass of wine in her hand and a beautiful flush in her cheeks, she’s unwinding with the help of the alcohol.
“Just let me smell one more time,” Aria says and inhales close to the large goblet at the same time Carter wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her into his lap. Another wave of giggling leaves the women and then is replaced by soft hums as the other two women are kissed and kiss back, falling into their seats for dinner.
Mine’s already seated, and when I look to her, her lips are on the wineglass. So instead of kissing her, I place my hand over hers on her lap. My fingers slip into the spaces between hers, feeling her soft skin, her warmth. Before she places the glass back on the table, her fingers close around mine, bringing them closer together, and she doesn’t let go. Not until the large bowl of antipasto salad is passed.
“Looks delicious, ladies.” Sebastian’s compliment is rewarded with a story from Aria about how she learned a new recipe for the main dish.
Lasagna, candlelight, and delicate dishes, the hum of chatter and constant smiles. Everything in the room is full of life, but that’s not how I feel. It’s not the reality I’m living in.
If Tyler were here though, he’d fit right in, and that would help Addison. He was good at hiding. He would have been good for her.
I wash the thought away with a single swig of the bourbon in front of me. I try to tell myself he’s on my mind because of what happened recently. And not because I truly think Addison would be better off if he were still here.
It’s not like before. Nothing is. I have to remind myself of that sometimes. The memories of what used to be, the reminder of Tyler and what life was like back then…it’s an ebb and flow of past and present. We’re better now. So long as we’re together. I won’t let anything change that.
Reaching up onto the table, Addison’s grasp is small and comforting when she lays her hand on my wrist. It’s a shock to my system to feel her touch in this moment.
“You okay?” Her question is soft and murmured so no one else can hear.
“Fine,” I answer her because it’s automatic. I don’t tell her more because she doesn’t ask. She doesn’t let go like I expect her to though. She eats with her left hand, leaving her right on mine. And I leave my hand just where it is, needing to feel that warmth, needing to feel her to make all this regret go away.
So long as I have her, it’s all okay. I just need to know I still have her.
Addison
He’s supposed to be the strong one.
The man is supposed to be the rock. That’s what the world leads you to believe, but I think it’s bullshit. Why else would I feel more complete, more grounded when I’m trying to hold Daniel together?
Aria and Chloe put a Band-Aid over my pain. They make me forget temporarily, and that’s worth something. They make me feel like it’s normal to be down right now, and that’s worth even more.
But holding on to Daniel, holding him together, that feels like purpose. It feels like belonging and worthiness. One small touch, and it’s like the pieces have been soldered back together, making them stronger than they ever were before.
Even if it is just holding his hand and smiling with his family, my family.
“Where’s Bethany?” Aria asks and my eyes dart to hers although she’s slipping her fork into her mouth with her focus on Jase. I know she’s asking for my benefit though.
“She couldn’t come tonight, but she’ll be here tomorrow. She’s getting some things adjusted.”
“Adjusted?”
“She went through a hard time.”
His answer quiets the room for a moment until I speak up. “I’d like to meet her.”
Daniel’s hand shifts under mine until the back of it is to the
table and his palm is against mine.
“I bet you would,” Carter comments with the hint of a smile.
“You’ll like her,” Jase says after a quick drink from his tumbler. The ice clinks as he sets it down on the table. “I don’t know anything about what Walsh said, but she may know. If not, you’ll still find plenty to talk about.”
“Walsh.” I roll my eyes as I say his name and take a sip of wine as I feel everyone’s eyes on me. The nervousness in the room creeps up a notch. The dark red is sweet, with a hint of lingering decadence. I bring my gaze to Carter’s at the head of the table and tell him simply, “He doesn’t like me much, I don’t think.”
“He doesn’t like me much either.” Jase’s response comes with a huff of a laugh from Sebastian as he sits back into his chair with ease, resting an arm over Chloe’s chair behind her shoulders.
“He has poor taste then,” I offer Jase and that gets me a small laugh from Chloe and her husband. Daniel only observes and half of all my senses are focused on him, focused on me. Everyone’s waiting to see if I’m going to break down again. I can feel it. They’re waiting to see if I’m okay. And I’m not, I know I’m not. But isn’t it okay if I’m not all right?
It sounds like a paradox, but I think it’s more real than anything.
Carter takes a deep breath, then says, “He’s not going anywhere soon, but he’ll get on board. Or I’ll take care of it.” His darkly spoken words are overshadowed by Jase’s.
“He will,” Jase adds and then tells me he’s sorry that I felt uncomfortable yesterday. That it never should have happened. He tells me he’d never let anything happen to me. None of them would.
They say we’re family, and I know we are.
There’s a pit in my gut though when Aria speaks. “Don’t worry, Addie, we’re in this together.”
“Right,” I say and nod in agreement, then thank God when I bring the glass up to finish the small pool of wine in it when she tells me, “Nothing bad can happen if we’re in it together.”