“So, you invaded my privacy?” I can’t look at her. I don’t want to see the pity in her eyes or hear the Poor, Just Ford on her lips.
“It’s not private if it’s public information.”
“It’s none of your business,” I shout and yank my arm out from her grip.
“Bullshit it isn’t.” She sits up and pulls the comforter around her. “I’m the one here, remember? I’m the one on the other end of it all. Your mood swings every time you see a news clip. The comments your brothers made before they left when they were here. Your silence when a reporter shows up or hounds your assistant for a reason why you’re not on the publicity tour. So yes, it affects your day-to-day. You may think no one else sees it, but I do, Ford. And I’m the one here. So it is my business because I’m the one waiting with bated breath for it to hit you out of the blue. And I will help hold your pieces together since you refuse to get it all out, fall apart, and then go from there.”
“Leave me the fuck alone, Ellery.”
“Really? That’s all you’ve got for me? Leave me the fuck alone?” She throws one hand up. “I’ll tell you the same thing I’m sure your brothers have told you: who cares what some random person on the street thinks about you?”
“You’re not a random person on the street, though. You’re . . .” The woman I love.
“I’m what?” she demands, but when I look at her through the dim light of the room, when I’m more than certain the truth flashes in my eyes, she shakes her head as if it’s going to erase what she just saw there.
That I’m in love with her.
“No, no, no.” She rocks back and forth before getting up out of bed and pulling the comforter with her to cover herself. “Don’t you dare say it. Don’t, Ford. Not now. Not here. Not . . . just please, don’t.” Tears well in her eyes that I don’t understand but wish I could.
There’s undisputable fear there. Genuine panic.
Why, though? Why does the idea of someone loving her terrify her?
“Then what do you want me to say?” I ask, my own words sounding defeated.
She paces back and forth, her head shaking with each step, almost as if she’s talking herself out of something. She stops and stares at me, eyes pleading but voice resolute. “I think you’re forgetting what matters the most. The real relationship you had with your dad. You’re so busy allowing the outside noise of someone else’s perspective to ruin and taint the memories you have of and with him.”
“Here we go. Here’s what you really think of me,” I counter, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against the headboard with a smug smile on my lips. “So, you think I’m being a chickenshit?”
“No, Ford.” She shakes her head and sighs. “I think you have every right to be upset about what’s not said, but in the same breath, you get the chance to pay homage with your brothers to the man you wanted to be like. The man you idolized. You. Have. The. Chance.”
“And your point?”
She growls in frustration. “I’d kill for a quarter of that opportunity. To let the world know just how incredible my mother was. To have siblings who I can lean on. To know why my dad . . . left.”
Her words connect right where I don’t want them to connect. In my gut. In my heart. She’s lost both of her parents too. One in an accident. One by suicide.
I hear what she’s saying. I feel what she’s saying. But just like my brothers, that doesn’t invalidate how I feel.
What I feel.
Two damaged people trying to hurt each other more.
“Those are just words. Easy to say when you’re not in someone else’s shoes.”
Her bottom lip quivers as she glares at me. “Quit being so goddamn selfish.”
“Selfish?” She’s calling me fucking selfish?
Like she’s one to talk. A woman who shows every bit of love but can’t see past herself to let me own it.
“The book isn’t about you. It’s about your dad. It’s about letting the rest of the world admire and respect the man in a way that only the three of you do. So yes, quit being so selfish and making it be about you when it’s about him.”
“So, at first this is about my relationship with my brothers. Then it’s about my dad.” I stare at her and shrug, itching for the fight. Itching to take this anger out on someone. “Who the fuck are you to give advice? Are you really going to lecture me about relationships and how to foster them and take part in them while you stand there and deny that we’re in one? Fucking classic, Ellery.”
“Don’t do this, Ford.” She takes a few steps back and forces a swallow down her throat. That familiar panic flickers through her eyes.
“Don’t do what?” I shout, flinging my arms out to the sides. “Talk about what’s staring us in the face? What we’ve been doing for months and you refuse to even acknowledge?”
“This isn’t about us.”
“No? Really? My bad. I didn’t realize it was okay for you to stick your nose in my business but not when it’s our business.”
“This is about you, about your family.”
“Of course. Isn’t that what it’s always about? I mean, it’s never about us. Or you. Every time the topic turns to you, you change the subject, making sure it comes back to me. You hide from revealing any little part of yourself that God for-fucking-bid makes you vulnerable.”
She stands there, bottom lip trembling, but her eyes cold as fucking ice. “Go to hell.”
“Why don’t you read the epilogues, Ellery, huh?” I ask, needing to hurt her like she’s hurting me. Needing to push her away since she’s hitting so damn close right now. “You want me to give answers, it’s high time you do the same. Why don’t you read them?”
I ignore the hurt glancing through her eyes, my own hurt jading my thoughts.
“Leave me alone, Ford.”
“Oh,” I say and chuckle condescendingly. “Now, I’m supposed to leave you alone.”
“Stay out of my business.”
“No. Not on your life. Why don’t you read them? Are you too afraid to find out what happens after they fall in love? Is that what it is? You self-sabotage yourself and so—”
“Shut up,” she shouts at the top of her lungs, her voice breaking. Tears well and slip down her cheeks. Her head shakes from side to side yet her eyes lock on mine. The expression on her face guts me and yet her words hit even harder.
“Why? So you can run and hide from answering the question?”
“Like you? The man who ran here, who partnered with a random woman he’s only met one other time, just so he could stick his head in the sand and avoid his daddy issues?”
If she’s aiming for the bullseye, she just fucking nailed it.
Motherfucker.
My chuckle is low and haunting. “That’s a low blow, Elle. But that’s what you were aiming for, right? To piss me off so I drop it and let it go? Because that’s way easier than you actually talking to me. Than actually having to face fucking facts about us—”
“The only thing to talk about is why you’re not on your way to the city to be on the morning shows with your brothers right now.”