Chapter Twenty-Five
Bethany creaked down the hallway of Project Doomsday, dragging her fingertips along the wall. She’d traded places with the house. This morning, it had been a hollow vessel while she’d been so full of new life and hope. Now she was the empty one and the house was full of furniture waiting to be arranged.
After Wes had closed himself in his room, she’d returned to the jobsite alone, for once devoid of her usual excitement over that final stage of bringing a space to life. Everything was wrapped in plastic, placed in the appropriate room, but all four of her limbs were deadweights, so how those objects would find their way to the correct corners and angles, she had no idea.
An exhale stole the remaining energy in Bethany’s body, sending her sliding sideways down the wall of the hallway and leaving her there in a heap.
What did you do?
She’d asked herself the same question ninety times since walking on unsteady legs out of her house and driving like a zombie across town. The answer was still hovering somewhere outside the reach of her consciousness, mostly because grasping anything beyond the pain of losing Wes was too hard.
A fresh wave of misery rose over her and she shivered.
Oh God. She’d lost Wes.
How, though?
How?
Their relationship had been new, but strong. Every time a worry bubble rose to her surface, he found a way to pop it. Found a way to make her forget it ever existed in the first place. He helped her laugh away her fears and focus on the good. No, he’d made her feel the good, not just look for it.
Wes had fought her dragons valiantly.
And she’d . . .
Kept letting them out, expecting him to crash back onto the scene in his suit of armor every time, sword at the ready. Had she stopped fighting her own mental battles and left the chore up to him too often?
Yes.
Yes, clearly she had. And everything he’d said to her in the kitchen tonight had been terribly accurate. She’d been looking for weaknesses in the foundation they were building together. She’d been up to her old tricks of searching for a way out so she wouldn’t have to face her imperfections.
God, it would have slayed her if Wes had shown her kind of reticence. Instead he’d been the steadfast one, never letting her feel anything less than secure. Yes, she’d been working on herself, but not quickly enough. She couldn’t sustain the blow of having her home deemed unsuitable and everything had fallen apart in the blink of an eye.
It was her fault. Entirely.
She’d folded like a cheap lawn chair and hurt the man she loved. And there was no mistaking that. He’d all but begged her with his eyes not to push him away. Now she’d lost the only person who’d ever looked over a list of her demons and signed up anyway.
Bethany pressed both hands to her face, letting salty tears trickle down along her palms to her lips, dripping onto her shirt. Oh man, she’d fucked up. She might have made herself more vulnerable to Wes than she ever had with another human being, but when it came down to brass tacks, she’d demanded a lot of Wes and given not enough in return. She was unreliable and wishy-washy and unworthy of someone with a heart that big.
Hastily, she wiped her eyes and looked up and down the hallway. It was the middle of the night, so there was nothing but lingering dust and a freshly cut lumber smell to keep her company. That’s what she deserved—to be alone.
The Bethany she’d been before Wes would have preferred to be alone.
Did she prefer it now?
No. God, no. Nothing got accomplished that way.
Bethany sat up straighter.
At the outset of this project, she’d set out to prove she could flip a house alone and do a better job than her brother. A better job than anyone. That wasn’t what she’d learned, though. She’d learned to accept help and be grateful for it. She’d learned it took letting down her guard and admitting when she made a mistake—like firing Wes or ordering the wrong size tile for the bathroom and a million other things she’d done along the way—to be successful. Perfection wasn’t success. It was impossible and frankly kind of boring.
It was the effort paid to the project that made her proud.
Not the outcome.
If only she’d made the same effort with Wes.
Bethany pushed herself up off the floor and walked to the living room, using her fingernail to scratch a piece of tape off the plastic wrapped around the couch. Was she going to learn from her lesson? Or was she going to pretend the last two and a half weeks never happened and crawl off to lick her wounds?
Honestly, the latter held the most appeal. Her knees were rubber and her eyes were gritty from crying. She wanted a certain set of strong arms around her and the knowledge that she didn’t deserve them was the most painful of all.
Still, she slipped her phone out of her pocket and dialed her sister, determined not to slip into the patterns that had landed her in this lonely, cold wasteland without the man who’d stood by her side when she didn’t deserve it.
“What’s wrong?” Georgie answered, sounding alarmed.
“Nothing is wrong,” Bethany said quickly. “Sorry to call you in the middle of the night like this. I just . . . need some help.” She swallowed. “I need your help staging the house for tomorrow. I can’t do it alone.”
A long pause. “Wait. Is this Bethany? My sister Bethany?”
A dull smile drifted across her lips. “Yes, it’s me.”
“Okay . . .” Georgie said slowly. “I’ll leave Travis sleeping and be right over.”
Travis piped up in the background. “Like hell.”
“She needs help staging the house,” came Georgie’s muffled voice.
“Bethany needs help?”
“Yes!”
“Are you sure it’s her?”
Their voices faded out for a few moments amid the sounds of covers rustling, then Georgie was back. “Travis is coming with me. He doesn’t think I can handle the mean streets of Port Jefferson alone.”
“The more the merrier. See you soon.”
Georgie didn’t come alone. She showed up with half of the Just Us League members, including a sleepy-eyed Rosie, Dominic in tow looking stoic and protective of his wife as usual. Bethany opened the front door of the house, so taken aback by the sea of smiling faces staring at her, she stumbled sideways. They didn’t wait for her to greet them and they didn’t ask for an explanation; they simply filed past her one by one, a couple of the older ladies patting her on the shoulder as they passed. The house went from eerily silent to extremely noisy, as plastic was ripped with Stanley knives, boxes were broken down, and furniture was dragged across floors. Bethany stared at the chaos with grateful tears in her eyes until her type A genes couldn’t take it anymore and she joined the effort.
It took until dawn and a lot of hoarse instructions before the house was arranged as she’d envisioned. She didn’t experience her usual dose of satisfaction, though, because the person she wanted to share the joy with the most wasn’t there. He was getting ready to leave her—and rightly so.
With yawns aplenty, her impromptu decorating committee started to leave and she stood at the door, thanking each and every one of them until they’d all driven off to start their days, undoubtedly exhausted. Travis, Georgie, Rosie, and Dominic all lingered behind, cleaning up the last of the unpacking mess.
Georgie came up beside Bethany, laying her head on her shoulder. “It looks amazing. You should be really proud.”
“I barely recognize it,” Travis added, turning in a circle to take in what was once his childhood home. “And that’s a damn good thing. Nice going, Bethany.”
“Thanks.” Her heart beat heavily in her chest. “I didn’t do it alone.”
Rosie handed her one of the coffees Dominic had gone out to pick up at the gas station, and asked gently, “Wes is home with Laura, I’m assuming?”
Bethany didn’t miss the curiosity in her friend’s tone. She’d obviously noticed that something was wrong. “They’re at my house. They moved into my house.”
Four sets of eyebrows shot up.
“I don’t know how long they’ll be there,” Bethany continued stiltedly. “I’ve ruined everything.”
“What is . . . everything? If you don’t mind me asking.” Travis shot his wife a look. “You’re supposed to keep me abreast of the gossip.”
“I wasn’t abreast of it myself,” Georgie murmured, studying Bethany’s face. “Whatever it is you think you ruined, it’s fixable. We’ll help.”
“I appreciate the offer.” She thought of Wes the last time she saw him and shook her head. He’d been devastated over Paula’s decision and she’d left him to flounder. She’d cut and run emotionally, just like he said. Abandoned him with cold words when he needed her the most. How could he trust her ever again?
He wouldn’t.
But her journey to common ground with Wes had taught her so much, and she wouldn’t abandon what she’d learned like she’d abandoned him in his moment of need.
“I have to tell you guys something.” She paced away from the group to look out the window. “I second-guess myself constantly. I overthink every word and every decision and I push people away so they won’t find out I’m actually a mess. I don’t have it all together. I’m just pretending to be the . . . beautiful, dynamic creature you all see before you. All the time.”
Everyone was silent for a few beats.
“Thank God,” Georgie breathed, bringing Bethany around. “Bethany, congratulations, you’re human. Nobody in this room is perfect.”
“Not even me,” Travis said, winking.
Georgie hip-checked him.
“If we made you feel like you needed to be faultless, we’re sorry,” Rosie said, coming forward. “You just make everything look so easy, it’s hard to imagine you struggling like the rest of us.”
“You asked for help tonight, though.” Dominic coughed, visibly uneasy being the center of attention for even a second. “That probably wasn’t easy. Wouldn’t have been easy for me, either.” He looked at his wife. “Before.”
“And you’re talking to us now,” Georgie added. “Saying the problem out loud is half the battle. Like when I told you I was in love with Travis at Zumba class.”
“Let’s not refer to that as a problem,” Travis growled.
“It was at the time,” Georgie qualified, reaching out to take hold of her husband’s hand. “But it grew into something beautiful. Problems don’t have to go away—they can change shape or you can make them work for you.”
“She’s right,” Rosie said with a soft smile. “You don’t have to change everything about yourself. Sometimes you just have to add a little honesty and it makes all the difference.”
Was Rosie right? It seemed like she might be. Bethany stood in front of her closest friends and family feeling exposed, yes, but also lighter. More herself than ever. Why did this lesson have to come a day late? Last night could have played out so differently. Instead of trying to push Wes away, she could have told him the truth. That she was embarrassed over the failure and horrified that she’d disappointed him. They could have talked about it and moved forward together. More than that, she could have found out how he felt about having their house deemed unprepared for guardianship of Laura.
She’d lost that privilege now, hadn’t she?
He’d never take another risk on such a self-centered head case.
“Thanks, guys,” Bethany said, clearing the rust from her throat. “And thanks for coming out in the middle of the night to help me. I never could have done this alone.” She turned in a circle to observe the Cape Cod–style dwelling in all its spit-shined glory. “Now will it be enough to beat Stephen?”
The pit in Bethany’s stomach yawned wider when she realized winning Flip Off was no longer important. Not when she’d already lost what mattered most.
The next morning, Wes discovered the true meaning of being a parent. Yeah, there was dress shopping and waking up at five A.M. But mostly it was smiling and being engaged through the terrible moments. When he got out of bed Saturday morning, after sleeping approximately twenty minutes the whole night, the house was empty. Bethany had to be off staging the house, and not being there with her didn’t sit right. Not at all. They’d started the project together and they should be finishing it together.
As he leaned against the doorjamb watching Laura brush her teeth, he wished he could go back and handle his argument with Bethany differently. Lord, did he wish.
What good had it been for him to be the stabilizing presence for stupid little things like the mark on her neck? Or reassuring her that he didn’t care about morning breath? If he couldn’t be strong when she had a major spiral, none of that other shit meant a thing.
He could have wrapped his arms around her last night, kissed her, and said, “We got some bad news, baby. Let’s sleep on it tonight and attack it fresh in the morning.” What if that’s all it would have taken to talk her back down?
Instead he’d blown out of there, pissed and hurt.
Hell, he still hurt. She’d thrown salt into his wound and he’d been too down to deal with it. But right now, he could only think of Bethany. Was she feeling this god-awful, too?
He might never know. She’d likely never want anything to do with him again. A man who couldn’t be solid during her hardest moments didn’t deserve her at all.
Eventually he would have to figure out a plan for him and Laura. If Bethany didn’t want them living there, he’d respect that, even if he wasn’t convinced that was the case. Bethany loved Laura. There was no mistaking the way she looked at his niece. The way she softened every time Laura said her name or sat on her lap. Still, he couldn’t wait for Bethany to come down from the ledge to file the appeal for guardianship. It had to be sooner rather than later and he couldn’t imagine putting that pressure on Bethany again right away.
“We’re doing show-and-tell at school on Monday,” Laura said, around her toothbrush.
“Oh yeah?” Wes tried to bury the heel of his hand in his eye socket. “What are you going to bring?”
“Bethany’s magnolia candle. I already put it in my backpack.”
“Why the candle?”
She spat into the sink. “It smells like her.”
His heart lurched. “Yeah. It does.”
“I like the way she smells. I like everything about her.”
“I like everything about her, too.” Even the crazy parts. Last night in the kitchen, he’d loved her through that entire argument, hadn’t he? He loved her so much now, his hands ached with the need to touch her face, stroke her hair. She must be working so hard staging the house and he wasn’t there to tell her she was extraordinary. That she could do anything.
“Uncle Wes?”
“Yeah?”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “You haven’t really been sleeping very much in the bedroom across the hall from me, have you?”
It hurt to smile, but he couldn’t help it. “No, kid. Not really.”
“Danielle told me what you and Bethany do at sleepovers.”
He froze. “Oh yeah? What’d Danielle say?”
Laura hopped down off the stool Bethany had put in front of the sink, so she could reach the mirror. Had the home visitor even considered that? All the little touches Bethany had added, like a canister of Cheerios in the kitchen and the Disney princess shampoo in the shower? He hadn’t even asked her to do those things. “She said when her mom and dad have sleepovers,” Laura continued, popping his thought bubble, “they new their marriage vows.”
Christ. He was not mentally prepared for this conversation when his head felt like it was buried in cement. “New? Do you mean . . . renew?”
“Yeah.” She smiled brightly. “They new them.”
Wes stayed really still, hoping his lack of movement might work the same way as avoiding a bear attack. “Okay. That’s nice, I guess.”
“Yeah, but you and Bethany aren’t married.”
This was it. He was going to be mauled by a bear. He’d never wished harder for Bethany to be standing next to him. She wouldn’t know what the hell to say, either, but that was the beauty of the relationship. Whether it was an impromptu tea party or a bleeding finger, they muddled through it together. Fuck, he’d blown it with her. His first and only time in love and he’d barely made it out of the starting gate before letting Bethany down.
He’d let Laura down, too.
Look how happy she is. How is she going to react to moving again?
“No,” he rasped, finally. “Bethany and I aren’t married.”
“Then what vows are you newing in there? Can people make vows even if they aren’t married?”
She nudged him out of the way and he followed her into the hallway, toward her room. And it was a good thing her back was turned, because he was probably white as a sheet. “Yeah, sure . . .” he started, and thought of words he’d spoken to Bethany in the dark.
I’m rock solid, Bethany. Okay? Put your faith in me. I’m here with you because you’ve been my woman since the beginning, even before you realized or accepted it. I’m standing right here and I’m staying right here. There is nothing you or anyone could do to make me want to be somewhere I couldn’t hold you.
Something jagged lanced his throat. He’d said that to Bethany.
He’d meant it, too. What the hell had he been thinking, telling her they were going to leave? Would she ever believe another word out of his mouth?
“Yeah, people who aren’t married can make vows,” he finished, dropping onto the edge of Laura’s bed and burying his pounding head in his hands.
“Oh.” Laura sounded disappointed. “But you can still also make the married kind, right?”
“Why?”
He lifted his head to find Laura sprawled out on the bed beside him. It struck Wes how comfortable she was in this room, no matter what the hell it looked like. It wasn’t about the décor . . . it was the feeling she got being inside the room. Inside this house.
Where the hell did anyone get off saying Bethany’s home wasn’t suitable?
Laura spoke again, diverting his anger. “I don’t know. I have a mom already. But I could have two. Couldn’t I?”
A rake clawed at his insides. “You want Bethany to be your mom?”
He swore there were stars in her eyes when she sighed. “Yeah. Do you?”
“No, I don’t want her to be my mom.”
Laura giggled and his lips curved into a smile, despite the desolation making his chest burn. This whole situation suddenly struck him as unfair. Sure, he knew the court had a responsibility to make sure kids went to a safe home, but Lord, what he would have given back in the day for someone who cared about him the way Bethany cared about Laura. She’d set aside her insecurities and become a fixture in his niece’s life, picking her up from school, protecting her from potential pain when Becky showed up, given her a home. A warm one, to hell with what that woman said about it. They were just new at this.
But he didn’t want to be new at anything without Bethany.
He needed her.
Laura needed her, too. And he’d completely failed to let her know that when she needed to be reassured most. She’d given him an out, because she’d been scared, and he wanted to punch himself in the face for taking it.
She needed to know he would never, ever take an out.
That he would never even think about it.
“You mind spending a few hours with Let’s Color, kid? I’ve got some work to do.”