“We’re not a couple. I don’t do relationships—you knew this going in. I was your for now, not your forever.”
“But I thought—”
“You thought wrong.” Suddenly, I was yelling. “Don’t you get it, Fee? I am not anyone’s forever. You deserve everything. A house, someone who can love you and give you a life. Love. Security.”
She gaped, but I didn’t stop. “That. Isn’t. Me,” I snarled.
I stepped forward, almost spitting in my rage. “Don’t you dare throw your life away on me. I didn’t fight to get you free from that asshole for you to pin your hopes on the likes of me. There is no future for us.”
“I’m not asking anything of you, Halton. I’m simply giving you a key.”
I flung the key. It bounced off the wall, hitting the hardwood floor with a loud clunk. “So, what? I can come and go, fuck you on occasion? Drift in and out of your life and drain you of everything good? I can’t give you anything else!” I grabbed her shoulders. “Stop it, Fee!”
She shook her head, and I knew she wasn’t going to accept what had to happen.
I opened my mouth and sealed my fate.
I pressed my fingers into her arms and met her gaze. “If you do this, then you’ll become the whore you never wanted to be with me.”
Her gaze widened. Tears filled her eyes. “Get out.”
I turned and walked away, pausing at the door, turning. “You have a job if you want one, and I will always be there if you need anything.”
She turned away. “I don’t need anything from you.”
I nodded. “Good decision.”
I left her.
A noise broke through the fog in my mind. I peeled open one eye then slammed it shut as pain drove through my head like a freight train.
I groaned and rolled over, cursing as I fell off the sofa.
Why the hell wasn’t I in bed?
I sat up, clutching my head. A steady drum beat inside it, making me desperate for Tylenol. And water.
I was parched.
It was the sound of a key in the lock that made me raise my head. Only two people in the world beside me had a key to my place.
Fee and Rene.
I tried to focus my eyes on the figure moving across the room.
“Fee?” I croaked, hopeful.
“Try again.”
“Rene,” I sighed, hanging my head. I couldn’t deal with him right now. “Go away.”
“Nope.” He sat down and grimaced. “Jesus, Halton, you stink of bourbon.”
I glanced blearily at the coffee table and the almost empty bottle lying on its side slowly dripping liquor onto my hardwood floor. I had grabbed the bottle with one intent—to get drunk and forget.
I got drunk. But I didn’t forget.
“I didn’t want to waste the scotch,” I muttered.
“Uh-huh.” Rene leaned back on the chair. “Are you aware it’s Monday morning? Midmorning?”
“What?” I scrambled to my feet, groaning at the pain in my head and the way my stomach lurched at my sudden movement.
“I canceled your day. It’s all rescheduled over the next two days. You’re going to have to work extra to get it all done.” Rene stood. “In the meantime, go and shower. I have a few things to say to you, and I don’t feel like saying them while you smell like a cheap distillery and yesterday’s pity party.”
“I don’t feel like a lecture,” I fired back, trying to hold up my aching head. “I’m not a fucking child.”
“Then stop acting like one.” He turned and headed toward the kitchen. “You have half an hour. Be back here ready to listen or I quit.”
I didn’t move, and he turned, casting a glare that let me know how serious he was. “You’re wasting time and my patience, Halton.”
I spun on my heel, falling into the sofa before righting myself and heading to my room.
I had a feeling what he had to say wasn’t going to make me feel any better.
I made the water as hot as I could bear, letting it rain down on my body and wash away the sweat and liquor of the past many hours. I washed my hair and soaped thoroughly but didn’t bother trying to tame my beard. It could be bushy for the day. I dressed and returned to the living room, feeling somewhat better after swallowing three Tylenol before entering the shower. The brass band in my head had at least settled into a low, steady thump I could handle.
A cup of coffee waited for me, along with a plate of dry toast. I lifted the coffee, grateful for the bitter brew, but nudged the toast to the side. My stomach was already in knots and ready to heave—it didn’t need the added incentive of food.
Rene allowed me a few moments of peace then sat forward, resting his arms on his thighs. I could see his injured arm still had a long way to go—it was smaller and didn’t move as well as the other one, but I knew he would recover.
He cleared his throat, making me lift my gaze to his face. His countenance was serious, the look in his eyes one of disappointment.
Shame flooded my chest without him saying a word.
“Fee told you.”
“Only that you broke things off with her. Unlike you, she was at the office this morning, prepared to act like a mature adult.”
I shifted in my chair. I shouldn’t be surprised by her generosity. But I had done more than just break things off with her. I had been horrible and said things I didn’t mean so she would hate me.
“What are you doing, Halton? That woman is the best thing that has ever happened to you.”
“Protecting her from me, Rene.”
“Bullshit.”
I stood, unable to sit and meet his eyes. His anger, I could handle. His disappointment, not so much.
“I’m incapable of maintaining a relationship. I’m emotionally stunted—you know that—I have nothing to offer.”
He leaned back, straightening his pant leg. “Again, I call bullshit.” He cocked his head to the side, studying me. “You want to know the real truth?”
With a huff, I sat down. “As if I have a choice.”
He leaned forward, his gaze steady. “You’re a fucking coward.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He shook his head. “You think you’re the first guy to feel doubts about love, Halton? That you are the only fucking man who has ever lived and wondered what the future would hold if he allowed his heart to feel? To worry about things?” He stuck his finger in my chest. “Coward.”
I glared at him but held my tongue. I knew he was far from being finished.
“Yeah, you had a shit childhood. You have a rotten mother, and you lost your father too young. Your life was awful. I get it. But Halton, you are the one in control now. You are the one stopping yourself from finding happiness. There is no one to blame right now but yourself.”
“I will fail. I already know that.”
He shook his head, his anger showing. “You know nothing of the sort. The Halton I know has never failed at anything he set his mind to. You’re the one stopping this from happening. This is on you—no one else.”
I stared, silent. His words echoed in my head, but I knew he wasn’t done.
“One of the things I have always admired about you is your honesty, Halton. But right now, you’re lying to yourself and to me. You’re not afraid to fail. You’re afraid to feel. I saw something in you these past weeks with Fee I was afraid I would never see. I saw you live. Actually fucking live. Not work all the time and take pills to find a few hours of sleep. You laughed. Smiled more. Touched another human. Cared for her. You were prepared to do anything in order to make sure she was okay—even risk your career for her.” He held up his hand, stopping me from replying. “Don’t give me the bullshit about it being your job. I’ve been with you for years, and I’ve seen you do your job. Go above and beyond for your clients, but not like this, Halton. Not the way you were with Fee.”