I watched Lane’s back heave with slow, ragged breaths and remained quiet, suspecting he wasn’t done. My heart burned with searing pain for the broken man in front of me.
“At nine years old, after we were sent to our grandparents in Pittsburgh, Jake and I made a secret pact in the dark hours of the night ... after what our sitter told us right before we left. She said they could lock Jake up for murder. That was the night the nightmares began, and they lasted until I moved to Florida. Everyone thought they were just because my parents died, so it was easy to go with that excuse. Those dreams tortured me with guilt and obsession over Jake. I was so mad at him for what he did, but also scared to fucking death that I would lose him. I’d made a deal with the devil to never let anyone take him from me, so for years I covered up for all his stupid shit and went along with all of his dumb games.”
“Lane, look at me,” I said and waited.
He raised his eyes to meet mine, anguish turning them into two deep-water pools.
“Lane, you were a kid,” I said gently. “You weren’t responsible, and neither was Jake. He was a kid too. You didn’t deserve to let this haunt you as long as it has—”
He didn’t let me finish. “It’s why I was at yoga that night, the night you collapsed. I was covering for Jake. He was sleeping with the instructor and wanted me to pretend I was him. And like always, I never said no to him. Fuck, it was such a nightmare. You had fallen right on top of me ... and your friend, she freaked out and ran off. I guess she was lit up on something too. At first, I was confused why no one was coming to help, and then I remembered I was supposed to be Jake. So I pretended to whip into action.”
I stopped him, running my hand along his jaw, his beard bristling along my fingers. “My falling, nearly OD’ing, that wasn’t your fault either, Lane.”
He shook his head. “Well, it was my fault you were all alone in the ambulance. I was so mad at Jake for putting me in a bad place again that when he showed up, I decided it was more important to reveal his little ruse. I wanted to check on you or visit you, something, but I never did.”
Glancing up at me, he said, “Actually, that was when the offer to move to Florida came and I took it. It was a new start for me. No more Jake, no more fall weather with winter on its heels, no more emotional triggers. I’d seen a therapist a little when I first moved south and then declared myself fine. I was in the warmth, away from the cold weather that only reminded me of the worst time of my life. Then I met you and the triggers started again, not just old ones, but a new one.Love.”
He took another long, deep breath and said, “I couldn’t give love if I didn’t feel worthy of love.”
Was that what this was about? He wasn’t saying good-bye?
Taking my hand in his, he threaded his fingers through mine before he snared my gaze. “I love you, Bess.”
His eyes were so blue in that moment, clear skies for miles, and I wanted to fly away in them. Stunned at his admission, I could only stare at him, wondering once again if I were hallucinating. This couldn’t be happening, not to me. How could I deserve this?
“To be honest,” he said, “I’ve thought about you every day since that yoga class. You seemed so beautiful on the outside, but I could tell you were broken on the inside, and there was such a push-pull going on inside me about whether to help you or not. I thought you were beyond repair, but that turned out to be me. You turned out to be the strong one. The one who made me want to fix myself after always fixing everything for Jake.”
I frowned at him, frustrated at how hard he was being on himself. “Lane, you were not broken beyond repair. You need to forgive yourself. That’s the hardest step for anyone. Believe me, I know.”
“Can you forgive me?” he asked, laying his head in my lap.
“There was never anything to forgive.” I smoothed my hand over his head, comforting him like I did in his foyer—like a heartbroken little boy.
“But I sent you away,” he mumbled. “I used our connection to forget all of this shit, our intimacy, when you showed up in Florida.” He stared up at me in pain, his eyes searching for forgiveness.
With a sigh, I said, “I know. I knew you had something much deeper going on than the secret about knowing me and about the drugs, and as much as that hurt me, you deceiving me, I knew there had to be more. And I wanted to be there for you.Because I love you.I have since you kissed me in the hallway on Christmas. You stole my heart that night. And even though I saw you were all mixed up, I couldn’t make myself leave you alone.”
Relief flooded me. The look I’d seen before deep in his eyes, the hazy fog of indecision and regret, it wasn’t just about deserting me—it was something much worse. A horrific event, a burden that no child should have, but Lane had carried it since he was nine years old. To make it worse, Lane had taken on his brother’s guilt too, although I suspected Jake felt the weight of his own participation in different ways. That haunted look was evident in his blue eyes too.
“Well,” he said, “I took care of that for us. I sent you away, as if I could forget you. That night after you left, I decided to hunt down absolution ... for you.”
Brushing a few stray hairs away from his forehead, I confessed, “I knew you were wrestling something bigger.”
Wrapping his arms around my knees, he squeezed. “I couldn’t forget you. The need to remember you was stronger than my need to keep this bottled up inside any longer.”
I lifted his chin with my fingers, forcing him to look up at me again. “I knew you would slay your inner dragons. I didn’t know how, but I knew you would. I just didn’t know if you would come back to me. I’m not whole myself, Lane. My life, it’s boring and mundane ... and simple. I’m not a party girl anymore. I can’t ever be. Watching movies with my dog is a big night on the town for me.”
He kissed the inside of my wrist. “I love that—all of that—about you, Bess.”
I half smiled as I teased, “But your playboy image will be tarnished.”
I had to joke about something—this conversation was getting too intense. And Lane’s pain over his parents still swirling in the air was making me weak with need. I wanted to stick my hand deep down inside the man and pull out his suffering, then stuff it inside my own soul.
He straightened, remaining on his knees, but bent forward and kissed me. It was a gentle kiss, full of promise. It was a promise I wasn’t sure he should make, one I didn’t know I could fulfill.
“I’m not a playboy, Bess. That was my disguise. Women, partying, pretending to be naughty ... those were my drugs. But with you, I can be me. Plain, boring, business executive me. And now I can be whole because you know the truth. Can you live with what I allowed Jake to do? What I’ve covered up all these years?”
“Lane, you were a kid. You have to accept that. I don’t have to accept anything.”
