Page 52 of It Will Always Be You
“You meant it when you said you couldn’t change anything, huh?” she remarks, taking in the uncaged room where we spent so many, and yet nowhere near enough, nights.
“What can I say? I didn’t want to move on when I knew what heaven was.” Ignoring her sharp inhale, I open the bathroom door. “There’s towels on the rail. I’m going to get some dinner started. If you need me, just call, okay, sweetheart?” At her nod, I leave her, offering her privacy. It’s the least I can do.
Leaving her to it, I assess what we have in the kitchen. Spying the ingredients for lasagna, I quickly throw it together and pop it into the oven before heading back upstairs. I softly rap my knuckles against the door, waiting for her to give me the go ahead before letting myself in.
Seeing her with her skinny knees curled up to her chest, blonde curls damp around her face, and glassy eyes has an ache burrowing its way between my rib cage. In that moment, all her hurt, all her scars, are a physical thing between us that I wade through to edge closer to her. Once I’m close enough, I grab the bottle of conditioner, the same one she used to keep here. At her tentative nod, I settle on my knees beside the bath and guide her head back as I lather the conditioner into her soaked curls.
“You remembered,” she mutters, looking up at me as I tip her head back to rinse the conditioner out, taking care not to tangle it in the process.
“Of course I did. There’s not a thing about you that ever left my mind.”
“Hmm, yeah? How’d I take my coffee?”
“With far too much sugar and a dash of milk, but your preferred drink was an iced caramel latte with an extra shot and a bucket full of cream and caramel drizzle.” I wrinkle my nose at the memory ofthe sugar overload. Seeing her spark come back is worth it all. Once the last of the conditioner is rinsed out and the bathroom smells like coconuts, I hold up a big, fluffy towel for her and avert my eyes as she wraps it around herself.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, eyes solely focused on the floor. Slowly, I reach for her, tilting her head up so I can capture her eyes with mine.
“Queens don’t look at the ground.” I back away, taking a seat on the bench and patting the seat beside me. Hesitation lines her face, but she comes over, and when she spies the detangler in my hand and microfiber towel beside me, her face softens into a look of wonderment.
“How…”
“I’ve done my homework. I wanted to be able to help with April’s hair, since it looks like she’s inherited your curls.” Offering her a crooked smile, I indicate for her to turn around. Once she does, I get to work gently taking the dampness out of her hair and detangling it. I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit dreaming about this. Her shocked hiss as she inhales and the way her back quivers is her only answer, but it’s all I need. Pressing a kiss against her shoulder, I reach for one of her hands and offer her what comfort I can while she lets me.
Chapter 48
Opening up to Jonathan, sharing the ugliest parts of me with him, only for him to turn around and practically fall on his knees in his attempts to reassure me has me wanting to try. To prove I’m more than what they did to me—what they stole from me. To let him in even though the thought of doing so fills me with a fear so intense, it stops me in my tracks most of the time.
So, when Donna floated the idea of a girl’s night at hers, for once, I didn’t hesitate. If anyone can help me sort out my conflicting emotions, it’s her. Seeing Fiona after all this time—especially factoring in the fact that our kids got married—feels long overdue. The way all our lives have ended up intertwined thanks to our children feels fitting in a ‘what a small world’ kind of way.
“Will Una be there?” I ask, phone wedged between my ear and shoulder as I flick through my wardrobe for something to wear. Cora’s sentimentally stopping her from getting rid of my belongs sure came in handy. The thought of starting from scratch and building up a whole new wardrobe right now sounds like hell.
“Una? Absolutely not. That bitch had the nerve to cheat on Ciaran and then accuse him of being the cheater. The only reason she’s even somewhat relevant is because she managed to get knocked up before all that.” She sniffs, and I can positively feel her disgust bleeding through the line. “His new wife should be coming, though. Jen’s…harmless.”
An uneasiness settles in my stomach, but I shake it off. I can’t let fear of the unknown stop me from taking steps towards healing and moving on, or those bastards will have won, and my escape will have been for nought. With promises to be there soon, I hang up and focus on getting changed before I can change my mind. Slipping a simple shift dress and some heels on, I do my best to channel my most confident self. Applying some makeup and spraying some mist to de-frizz my curls, I take a couple of deep breaths and give myself a pep talk before heading downstairs.
The sound of my heels on the hardwood floor echoes in the otherwise-silent penthouse as I make my way to Jonathan’s office. I’m sure he’ll be over the moon I’m making steps to improve and leave, to branch out and rebuild. Rapping my knuckles on the door to his office, I push it open and lose my breath. The sight of him behind a desk still sends me bat shit crazy, even after all this time. The man is designed for this look. The businessman who’s hot as shit and knows it. The mafia leader through and through. Looking up at me, he runs a hand through his dark hair as he blesses me with a smile.
“Hey there, sweetheart. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. I’m heading to Donna’s for a few with the girls,” I tell him as I watch his small smile turn into a blinding one.
“That’s great. Just let me grab my keys, and I’ll take you.” He’s already rising as he says the words. As he rounds his desk, his smile slips for a second as he looks down at my feet. “Why do you insist on wearing those death traps? Especially when we both know how much you detest them.”
“You know what they say: beauty is pain,” I tease him, biting my lip as he shakes his head and mutters to himself. Making our way tothe living room, he pulls me to a stop.
“Wait here for a second,” he commands, dipping down to press a kiss to the side of my forehead before disappearing upstairs. With heat racing through me, I do as he asks, only to blink back tears as he reappears with a pair of ballet flats in hand. Reaching me, he slowly drops to one knee and holds eye contact as he switches my shoes. Feeling his touch on my ankles as he slowly helps me step out of the heels and into the flats, combined with his unflinching eye contact, has me biting back a whimper as he presses a kiss to ankle before rising to his feet and cupping my face between his hands.
“You’ll never suffer one more moment of pain, Helen. Not on my watch.” Speechless, I can’t do much more than blink back tears and swallow down the emotions threatening to choke me. With a hand on the middle of my back, a touch I’m growing to not just tolerate but crave, I let him lead me down into the garage and over to his car. The ride passes in a heated, weighted silence, and as he pulls into their driveway, his next words do little to snuff out that heat.
“Call me when you’re ready to come home.”
Home. The word still echoes in my head as he rounds the car to help me out, placing a hand on my waist as he guides me up the steps. Tipping my chin back to look at him, I open my mouth to say something—God knows what—when all of a sudden, the door is ripped open, and our bubble bursts.
“Helen, lovely to see you again,” Fiona gushes, her dimples shinning as she grins at me. I can tell she wants to pull me in for a hug but is restraining herself for my benefit, which just makes me even more determined to overcome my fears.
“And you,” I tell her, closing the distance between us and hugging her for a second. She freezes in shock before gently squeezing me. Clearing her throat, she steps back and ushers me in. With a glance over my shoulder, I see Jonathan watching us with a heated look; when he catches me looking at him, he winks before dipping his chin and heading back to the car.
Lord help me.
