Surrendering to Us

  I loved him and wanted him, but what if that fire faded? What if the sex became monotonous and we stopped having it, or he wanted to travel again and have a new identity? What if he got tired of being himself?

  I knew I was spiraling, but this time I was powerless to stop it. I just had so many questions I didn’t know the answers to, but it was my fault. Because I never brought them up.

  Lucah roused me when we got back to the parking garage.

  “Wake up, Sunshine. Do you want me to carry you?” I opened my eyes and stretched.

  “No, you don’t have to.” He noticed immediately that something was off.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I don’t know.” That was the best answer I could give. “I just think that we’ve jumped into this relationship and we skipped a few crucial steps, and I’m worried that if we don’t talk about things, then down the line they’re going to become much bigger things and potentially come between us.”

  “What kind of things?” He wiped some of the glitter off my cheek. I’d gotten it all over his car again, but he hadn’t vacuumed it. I thought he liked it. That little reminder of Gracie and Fiona.

  “Marriage. Kids. What we both want from life. We sort of moved in without talking about any of those things. I don’t even know if you want to stay in Boston, or if you want to travel, or how many kids you’d want, or if you even believe in marriage, and—” The flow of words from my mouth was stopped by Lucah’s hand.

  “You’re right, we haven’t talked about those things, and I figured we would need to, at some point. Yes, you may not know those things about me, and I can tell you those things. But there are things you know about me that I don’t have to say. Those are the things that matter. You know what I look like when I wake up in the morning. You’ve seen every awkward childhood photo of me in existence. You know my body inside and out. You know what makes me laugh and smile and how to push my buttons. The rest we can talk about.” It was so easy.

  He had rendered me unable to speak words for the second time in a few days. How did he always know the right thing to say? It was probably because HE knew ME.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you and don’t you forget it.”

  “Never ever.”

  We held hands as we walked back to the apartment, and he randomly stopped walking, leaned down and kissed me. For no reason. Just because.

  I had to stop questioning what was standing in front of me and just believe in it. Believe in us.

  “So, what are your views on marriage? Pro, con, indifferent?” I said a few hours later as we fed each other Chinese takeout. Neither of us felt like cooking, and Sloane was out with Chloe trying to find her a rebound girl. They’d asked me to come earlier, but I didn’t think I was up for it.

  “I am pro marriage, for the right people. My parents were pretty happy, and Tate’s happy and then there’s Ryder. Pretty sure Ryder wouldn’t date a girl long enough to even get to the engagement stage.” Yeah, I couldn’t picture that either.

  “Are we the right people?” I fished a shrimp out of the bottom of the container and popped it in my mouth.

  “I think so. If it’s what we both want, and the time is right, then yes. I would say we are the right people.”

  “So you’d be cool with being just Lucah Blythe for the rest of your life?”

  He laughed.

  “Yeah, I think I could handle being me. A few years ago, no. You’re a big part of that. You helped me stop running. You taught me how to stand still, and that it wasn’t as scary as I thought. So.”

  “So.”

  He offered me some of the rice from his box and I opened my mouth.

  “Is all this marriage talk just a huge hint that you want a ring on your finger?” I choked on the rice and had to grab my glass of wine to clear my throat out.

  “No! Definitely not. But I wanted to get things out in the open before my mother asks, because I know she will. I’m sure she’s already picking out china patterns and mother of the bride outfits. For all I know, she’s already got one hanging in her closet.” That was a terrifying thought.

  “But you would want to be married to me?” I gave him a look. “Hey, it’s a valid question. I just wanted to make sure.” I got up from the couch and went to the desk in the corner of the room where I kept stamps and other office supplies. Two could play this game. I wrote MINE on a note and slapped it on his left hand, where a wedding ring would go. I did it again and put one on his crotch, and another on his chin, right where his dimple was.

  “Are you getting the picture?”

  “It’s becoming clearer.” The note fell off his chin, but I thought he had the point.

  “But the question is, do you want to be married to me?”

  “I think I’ve already answered that question, but here’s another. What is the policy about employees marrying each other?” Shit, how had I not thought of that? Usually, I thought of my job first and everything else second. At least I had before Lucah.

  “I don’t think it would go over very well. There are people who were married already who work there, but I don’t think we could both be working and then get married. The Board would probably throw a hissy fit.”

  “Well, it’s really none of their fucking business,” he said.

  “Wow, tell me how you really feel.” I sat back down and put the notes and my pen on the table and picked up another container that had fried rice in it.

  “Sorry, I’m just a little pissed about the whole shady thing they’re trying to pull over on Walter.”

  “Anything new on that?”

  “Not really. They’re currently fighting about who should be his replacement when they get rid of him. So this whole thing might implode and never even go anywhere. They also have to get enough stockholders together in favor of letting him go, and that’s not going well either.”

  “That would be great. It’s hard being in the same room with them now that I know. I just want to smack all of their faces and scream at them and then throw them out of the building. That’s my fantasy.” I indulged it for a moment. It was such a shame because there were some men on the board that I actually liked, and I’d known most of them for my entire life. But you don’t fuck with my family. You do that and you’re on my shit list forever.

  “That would be nice.” I didn’t know how we’d gone from talking about marriage to talking about punching the members of the Board of Directors, but I felt a lot better than I did a few hours ago. We didn’t have to talk about marriage and babies and all of that at once. It could be an ongoing conversation. And I also had to let go and trust Lucah and trust what we had together. Why was it harder to trust in something good than something bad?

  After we finished our food, Lucah gave me a foot massage that led to us having sex, just once, before we both fell asleep on the couch amidst the Chinese food containers and sticky notes.

  “So you want him to propose?” Sloane said the next day as we were getting our pedicures. I told her about my sudden need to discuss marriage and babies with Lucah and how the conversation had turned out.

  “No. I just wanted to know that was where we were heading. Eventually. We’d never talked about it, and it felt like time that we should. That’s all.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned against the massage chair so it could hit the back of her neck. Her voice vibrated when she spoke. “That makes sense. I’m actually surprised you haven’t talked about it until now.”

  “I know. I just don’t think marriage is as important as it was for my parents’ generation.” My mother would gasp if she heard me talking like this, but she’d raised me this way. She couldn’t teach me that I was strong and didn’t need a man and turn around and then expect me to put every energy into trying to land a man.

  “Pft, marriage isn’t for everyone. Look at my family history. Not one single couple has stayed married. Everyone has at least one divorce under their belt. I think it’s considered a badge of honor now. L
ike, the more divorces you have, the higher you rank on the family totem pole. I never want to get married because I don’t want to get divorced.” This wasn’t the first I’d heard her say something like that.

  Sloane’s past was rocky at best, and traumatic at worst. When we’d first met, she’d been so clingy I didn’t know if I could continue to be friends with her, but I’d stuck it out, and she got less clingy as she got older, and, like Lucah, now I couldn’t imagine my life without her. She’d also practically been adopted into my family and my parents adored her. I thought that was what she was really looking for. A real family. Someone to take her in, to love her unconditionally because her own blood relatives had done a shitty job of it.

  “But I definitely think you should get married so I can make your wedding dress.”

  “Obviously you’re going to make it. Why would you think I’d go anywhere else and be subjected to the horrors of a dress off the rack?” She shuddered as if I’d mentioned wearing dead animal carcass as my wedding dress.

  “And I get to be maid of honor.”

  “That’s another thing that’s a given. Who else would I get? You’re the closest thing I have to a sister.” I reached out and squeezed her hand. She opened her eyes and turned her head so she was looking at me.

  “Yeah. You’re more of a sister than any of my real ones. By the way, if you really want to picture your dress, I’ve got sketches. I made them when you and Lucah started getting serious. You can see them anytime you want.” She returned the squeeze and then let go.

  “I don’t think I’m ready for that. But it’s good to know they’re available if I want to look at them.” Sloane changed the subject, because she knew I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

  We talked, as friends do, about random things that had nothing to do with anything as we got our toes, and then our fingers, done and we headed for a couple’s massage.

  “Are you sure you’re into the marriage thing, because this is pretty fucking romantic, Rory,” she said as we lay down on the tables, with just towels covering us. Between the candles, the New Age music and the feel of someone’s warm hands, it was. It also reminded me a little bit of the massage Lucah gave me and I had to shut down those naughty thoughts before I got carried away.

  “Oh, I’d marry you, baby,” I said, reaching out and grabbing her hand.

  “I’d totally marry you, too.” The two women giving us the massages were silent as Sloane and I bantered back and forth. They’d probably heard much worse before.

  We got dressed and headed down to the café in the spa for brunch.

  “All this crap is healthy,” Sloane said, glaring at the menu as if it had offended her personally.

  “I think it’s because you’re not supposed to get a massage and steam all the impurities out of your pores and then eat a heart attack on a bun, covered with cheese, Sloane. Plus, this is fancy food. You like fancy food.” I scanned the menu and I had to admit, it was pretty . . . healthy. And not the good kind of healthy. We were talking wheat grass and tofu omelets. I finally found some oatmeal that had fruit and nuts in it, and a cup of herbal tea. Sloane bitched and moaned and finally got the same thing.

  “I like fancy that food isn’t made for rabbits,” she whispered so we wouldn’t incur the wrath of the other health nuts around us.

  “Well you have no one to blame but yourself, because you made the appointment.” We’d come here before, but we’d never eaten, and we were quickly realizing why.

  The oatmeal came and it was the tiniest bowl ever and had about three pieces of fruit and two sad walnuts in it. Sloane stared at hers.

  “I’ll take you out for burgers,” I said.

  “I’m going to need one.” We ate our sad oatmeal and finished our tea and then walked three blocks and stuffed our faces with double decker burgers.

  “This is where it’s at,” Sloane said, ketchup dripping down her chin. I used my napkin to wipe her face.

  “You got a little something.” We were both laughing and shoving our burgers in our faces when a male voice interrupted us.

  “I love seeing a woman who knows how to enjoy a good burger.” The voice was familiar enough to know who it was before I glanced over my shoulder, and the look on Sloane’s face also gave me confirmation. But I looked anyway.

  “Hello, Ryder.”

  “Rory. Nice to see you again.” The last time I’d seen him, he’d been helping me move, and I hadn’t seen him since. I used to wonder if I’d ever bump into him around Boston, but it was a big city and it hadn’t happened. Until now.

  His shirt was thin and ripped, and didn’t leave much to the imagination. His bold, black tattoos slashed across the bulging muscles of his arms, and he’d cut his hair shorter, so it was spiked in the front. And since you’re never complete without a smile, he had one of those too. Cocky. It reminded me of when I first met Lucah, but it also had a twist of something darker in it. That darker part scared me. That was the part I didn’t want around my best friend.

  Said best friend was trying to put down her burger and wipe her mouth at the same time, and was failing at it. I was going to hear about this later, that was for sure.

  “Hello, Ryder. How have you been?” I called on the spirit of my mother and all she had taught me, and all of those times I’d had to smile and make small talk with people I didn’t particularly like. Not that I didn’t like Ryder. I just didn’t like some of the things he did. And I didn’t like that darkness.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know? If I told you, you’d just carry it back to my big brother and I’d rather leave him in suspense.” Upon closer inspection, his eyes were a little glassy. He was definitely on something. I just didn’t know what. I kicked Sloane under the table, but she seemed mesmerized by Ryder. That was probably the look I had on my face when I saw Lucah standing in front of me the first time. She kicked me back under the table. Hard.

  “Well, I can see you ladies are busy, so I’m going to . . . go.” It seemed to take him a lot of time to find the last word. “Bye, Rory. Hello, Sloane.” He made eye contact with her and then he strolled out of the restaurant.

  Sloane let out a huge breath of air that she had probably been holding the entire time he was there.

  “Oh, God. I think I just came.” Was she fucking serious? “What? He lights my fire. Blows my skirt up. Pushes my buttons. However you want to say it. That boy makes me fucking hot.” She fanned herself and stared out the front of the restaurant, looking for him.

  “Why did he say hello when he was leaving?” That caused her to giggle in a way she only giggled when she REALLY liked a boy. Crap. I’d known she was attracted to him, but I thought it was just sexual. But the giggle meant something else entirely.

  “Because he said he hates goodbyes. So he never says them.” He’d said bye to me, but not to her. Jesus Christ. She gazed wistfully after Ryder as if he had ridden off on a white horse.

  “I don’t want to kill your buzz, but did you not notice that he was clearly on something?” I wanted to wave my hand in front of her face.

  “I’m not fucking blind, Rory. Stop being so self-righteous,” she snapped, the dreamy look on her face gone.

  “I’m not trying to be self-righteous. Jesus. Calm down.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m just sick of you telling me what to do, but doing whatever the hell you want.” What? We’d gone from eating burgers one minute to fighting the next, and all because of a stupid boy and his stupid tattoos and his stupid arms. Yes, it was juvenile to think of him that way, but I couldn’t think maturely about a guy who had waltzed into my life and caused a rift with Sloane and then bailed.

  “I don’t want to fight. Please can we not fight?” She looked down at her burger.

  “Okay. But I want you to admit that you do act self-righteous sometimes.”

  I nodded. “I can do that. I act self-righteous sometimes. And I’ll try to stop and do better.” She looked up at me and I waited.

  “Okay then,” she said a
nd picked up her burger as if nothing had happened.

  We didn’t talk about Ryder for the rest of the meal, or while we shared a piece of raspberry swirl cheesecake, or as we window shopped and Sloane convinced me (it didn’t take very much) to buy a new pair of heels that looked like black and white wingtips. Our unspoken agreement put Ryder on the “do not discuss” shelf, and there he would stay until we could agree on him, which I didn’t hold out much hope for unless he got himself clean and together.

  The rest of our afternoon was Ryderless, but he still left an impression that I couldn’t get rid of. Sloane hugged me and went to her apartment and I crossed the short distance to mine.

  “How was it? I see you couldn’t resist more shoes,” Lucah said with a smile as I walked in the door.

  “You know I can’t resist shoes.” I’d debated with myself about whether or not to tell him about Ryder, but my mouth made the decision for me when it blurted out that I’d seen and talked to him.

  “You saw him? How did he look? He hasn’t returned any of my calls this week.” I set my bags down and we both sat on the couch.

  “He looked bad, Lucah. He was definitely on something. Sloane and I had a bit of a fight about it. She’s not going to stay away from him for much longer. And she also called me out for being self-righteous, which was true, but I was only doing it because I care about her.” Lucah made a sound of frustration and dragged his hands through his hair.

  “This is a fucking disaster. I wish he’d never come here.” But he shook his head. “No, no. That was a terrible thing to say. I guess I just wish that I knew what to do to help him. What would work.”

  He’d gone through everything. Offering to pay for rehab, getting him a job, leaving pamphlets on Narcotics Anonymous wherever Ryder was staying, yelling, cajoling, begging. Nothing worked.

  “He’s got to want to change, and until then, he’s going to keep wanting to be destructive.” What Ryder didn’t seem to grasp was that he wasn’t just destroying his life, he was hurting Lucah and Tate as well. And when he hurt Lucah, he hurt me. The ripples of his behavior hit more people than he could understand. Just like those people who stole the money from Clarke Enterprises.