Addicted After All (59 page)

He will always be the biggest hero in my world. “I’ll be there,” I tell him. “Every step of the way.”

Relief floods his dark features, no fight between us. “Good,” he says, “because I’m going to be bored shitless in recovery.”

I laugh once, and then I reach out, clasp his hand, pulling him closer for a hug. I pat his back. I’m about to say
thanks
or maybe
you can always back out if you need to.
It barely hits me that our dad might be able to watch my kid grow up. Ryke’s too if he has any.

But Ryke draws back, his hand firmly on my shoulder as he says, “It’s a long process, but it’s fucking happening. Sometime after your wedding, I’m thinking.” His lips lift in a fraction of a smile. “When I made this choice, it felt fucking right. So I’m doing it.”

I can’t talk him out of it, he’s saying. Not that I can talk Ryke out of anything. “Should I buy board games? Operation?” I flash a wry smile. 

He messes my hair with a full-blown grin, reminding me that I’m the little brother again. 

And then the elevator stops. The doors slide open, and our smiles fade. Reality just a foot away. The meeting room down the hall, in sight.

“I’m right behind you,” Ryke tells me.

I take the first step onto the seventy-fifth floor of Hale Co.

This is it.

{ 69 }

LOREN HALE

Ryke and I sit on either end of the long table, seven board members on one side, seven on the other. While passing around sandwiches and coffee, they’ve been going over Hale Co. financial reports, business relations, without mention of the CEO title yet.

They’ve finally reached the end of their laundry list of topics. Focusing on the one that’s haunting me.

Daniel Perth rises from his seat and buttons his suit. “We appreciate how much work you’ve both put in towards heading this company.” He looks to Ryke. “As you’ve come to respect us, so have we to you. You’re multilingual, quick to understand our approaches, and very receptive to new ideas. Your father boasted about you. He said you were too smart for your own good.”

The board members collectively chuckle. Daniel smiles, “That’s a decent compliment from Jonathan Hale. He doesn’t give many.”

Ryke stays quiet, but his eyes flicker to me more than once. We’re far away from each other, separated by the length of the long wooden table.

My muscles bind the longer I sit here without answers. God, I want this. For so many reasons. My foot jostles, and I rub my lips. Waiting.

Then Daniel turns to me. “When we first met you, we weren’t sure if you’d want to be involved with this company. Through your initiative, you’ve proven to us that you do.” He pauses. “You’re a lot like your father, but you’re not him.”

I clench my teeth, and I can feel my jaw sharpening. Right. I break eye contact, staring out at the floor-length window. The one that overlooks Philadelphia on a muggy afternoon. In the silence, I say, “What were you expecting exactly?”

“Let’s see,” Daniel says, “the son of Jonathan Hale: what he’d call a
little shit.
What Jonathan is. Someone who’d throw a bottle of wine at a wall, toss papers around, yell in an employee’s face if the job didn’t go as planned. Degrade a person so he’d feel better.”

I frown and meet his face again.

“Don’t look so shocked. We know the terrible parts of your father. We’ve been around him long enough. And we’re all more than impressed to see that you didn’t inherit his
habits.
”

I did though. I inherited all of those things.

I stare dazedly at the table. My therapist told me something once.

He said,
“Sometimes the person we think we’ll become is the person we already are, and the person we truly become is the person we least expect.”

I’d been terrified of becoming my father for years. It’s why I never wanted to take Hale Co. It’s why I pulled against everything he threw at me.

And all that time, I was already him.

But I’m not my father anymore. I’ve become a better version of the person I once was. Someone I can stand to be around, someone I can live with.

Yeah.
It took long enough.
“Have you decided then?” I ask Daniel.

“We’ve voted, but ultimately, we realized that the decision should be left with you two. We want someone who truly
wants
to run this company. If that’s both of you, then we’ll be damn happy to have the Hale brothers as the face of Hale Co.”

Hale brothers.
Ryke’s jaw hardens. He considers himself a Meadows, not a Hale.

“You want us to be CEOs together?” I ask.

“
Only
if that’s what you want,” he emphasizes.

I lock eyes with Ryke, and I lean forward, cupping my hands on the table. I’d do this with him, if he’s up to it. But I still doubt he’d enjoy this life. I doubt he even wants it.

“Just tell me one thing,” Ryke says to me, the board overhearing. But I block out their stern expressions. It’s only me and my brother. “Will you be happy?”

My smile stretches my face. I can’t contain it. “I already am.” I’ve proven to
myself
that I could reach this point without a crutch. I’m sober. I’m healthy. I’m so goddamn alive.

Ryke smiles back, like he’s proud of me. “It’s yours, little brother. I believe in you.”

For months, those last four words are all I’ve ever wanted to hear. From Ryke, they mean everything to me.

{ 70 }

LILY CALLOWAY

While I’m seated at the vanity in a hotel suite, Rose clips the front strands of my hair back into a diamond barrette. My three sisters and my mom flutter around me like bluebirds in Cinderella. I never thought I’d be a princess of any fairytale. I’m more like the pumpkin that lies sadly on the wet pavement.

“What if he says no?” I suddenly spout my billionth fear of the morning.

“I’ll rip off his penis,” Rose says flatly as I stand up from the vanity bench. That is
not
something I’d enjoy. I love Loren Hale’s cock, very much so.

Our mom rolls her eyes and then rests a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t listen to your sister.”

I never thought I’d be on speaking terms with my mom for my wedding day, but we are. We really are.

“He’ll say yes,” Poppy chimes in as she straightens out my white tulle skirt and silk fitted top. It’s not a traditional wedding dress. I tried on almost all styles: mermaid, ball-gown, A-line, empire. It wasn’t until I found the skirt and shortened top combo that I felt like myself.

Daisy nudges my side. “And not because he knows his manhood is on the line.”

“That’ll only be two percent of the reason,” Rose butts in. She splays the rest of my straight brown hair on my shoulders and glances at the clock on the hotel nightstand. “We should head to the roof.”

Now? I must be a deer caught in headlights because everyone starts spouting encouragements at once. My mind whirls in a thousand different directions. I haven’t seen Lo all day, and maybe that’s what scares me about this impending ceremony. What if I arrive and he’s not there? What if it starts raining? What if lightning strikes a guest down?

“
Lily
.” Rose snaps her fingers in my face. She’s standing right in front of me. My high-octane maid of honor. She lifts my chin up so I meet her eyes and she says, “He’s waiting for you. Don’t be afraid.”

I inhale a strong breath. I’m about to marry my best friend. If I repeat it too many times, I start crying. So I pocket that thought, and I follow my sisters out of the hotel room and to the elevator. They’re all my bridesmaids, dressed in lavender one-shoulder gowns. What Rose called Grecian-inspired.

As we rise to the rooftop, she passes me my bouquet of purple flowers, the fancy name for them escaping my mind.

I am flooded with thousands upon thousands of memories that contain Loren Hale. In each one, some part of our bodies touch. Our hands. Our legs. Our hearts. Subconsciously, he guides me to the rooftop where he waits.

* * *

I hear the violins through the hallway door. Poppy, the last bridesmaid, just pushed through, leaving me in the Philly high-rise with my father.

“Is Maximoff outside?” I press him for information, maybe to prolong the mystery behind the door.

My dad avoids the answer. “We’re next.” He places his hand on my back. “Ready, Lily?”

Am I ready to marry the man who has my entire soul?

The nervous anxiety subsides. I am. But it’s not until my dad opens the door that I fully believe I’m marrying him. That this is my wedding day. October 10
^th
.

On our terms.

At long, long last.

The skyline glitters in the sunlight, the air crisp and cool. And my sisters, in their purple Grecian dresses, stand in a diagonal line by an ivy arch. White flowers booming around the structure. Their smiles could light the sun.

Purple petals decorate the aisle, and our few family members, seated in white wooden chairs, turn their heads at my entrance. My mom with Jane. Willow. And Jonathan.

The dapper men beside the arch stand tall and poised: Sam, on the end, and Ryke, who cradles my son. Maximoff dressed in a red superhero cape and onesie, the letter M embroidered in black. Tears nearly burst forth, but I try my hardest to suppress them.

Make it to Loren Hale.

Make it to Loren Hale.

I repeat the mantra with each step forward. Connor stands behind Loren, officiating the wedding, but I focus solely on my best friend, shutting out the surroundings for an extended moment.

In a perfectly fitted tux, Lo waits at the end of the aisle for me, his hands cupped in front of his body. Those intoxicating amber eyes never diverge from mine, never break or part or leave me.

He is ice and scotch, sharp and dizzying—breathtakingly gorgeous. And when he looks at me, I see those thousands of memories course through his gaze. The seven-year-old us performing a backyard ceremony. The nine-year-old us racing around his father’s mansion.

The fifteen-year-old us flipping through comic books on his bed.

We have consumed each other from day one. And we truly never let go.

Only a few paces from Lo, my dad kisses my cheek, returns to his seat next to my mom. Rose collects the bouquet from me, and I’m whisked by my own feet to Lo’s side

Magnetically, we cling together, his hand slipping into mine, our legs knocking as they find each other. We stand so close, like we fear someone else pulling us apart. I subconsciously tune out the music, and Lo cups my face, his eyes dancing across my features.

Mine fly across his.

I’d like to skip ahead, to the part where we kiss. Lo must read me well. His smile suddenly dimples his cheeks, and he whispers, “Soon.”

Soon.
I like that.

“Lily, Lo,” Connor says, attempting to deter my gaze. It works after he calls my name a second time. And I plant them on the well-dressed, impeccably styled Connor Cobalt. He’s a billion dollars, and the perfect officiator for our wedding.

Lo told him nothing formal for the ceremony, something short and sweet.

“Before you each say a few words to each other,” Connor tells us, “there’s something we all want to say to you.”

My brows scrunch and I look to Lo. He shakes his head at me like he wasn’t warned about this plan. I scan my family in the audience, and my mom’s already dabbing her eyes with tissues. Jonathan is beaming with pride, and my sisters…I turn to them, and they’ve sincerely lost it. Daisy is passing a tissue box down the line.

They’re crying before I am.

What’s going on?

Connor picks up where he left off. “I speak for everyone here today,” he tells us, “when I say that you two—Lily and Loren—are the strongest people we’ve all ever had the honor to meet.”

My eyes well.
What?
Lo squeezes my hand.

Connor remains stoic, his grin genuine and heartfelt. “You both have spent years praising all of us for our talents and our strengths, but you were too blinded by your own foibles to even realize how much we’ve revered you. For years, we’ve watched you fight for this future, for each other, and you’ve conquered a larger battle in your lifetime than most of us will ever come to see.”

I feel the tears roll down my cheeks, my chin trembling. I never ever believed someone could say something like that to us. This is a dream, but I know it’s not. Because Lo squeezes my hand again, his eyes misted too.

And Connor says, “You are our heroes, and today, we are grateful to celebrate your love and your life together.”

Lo wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “Goddamn, Connor.”

Everyone lets out tearful, emotional laughs. I do too, and Lo uses his thumb to dry off my face.

“You two have the floor,” Connor tells us, taking a step back.

Our turn. I look up at Lo again, one of his hands on my hip, the bare skin where my skirt meets my top.

“First or second?” he asks me.

We didn’t write down vows. We told each other to just say whatever hits us in the moment. I knew that if I tuned out the audience, his groomsmen, my bridesmaids—I’d be able to accomplish the task without stage fright. It’s already begun. The last figure I see in my peripheral is Maximoff Hale, my smiling, happy superhero son.

“First,” I whisper. “I’ll go first.”

His fingers are lost in my hair, his large hand encasing my cheek. I think back to days upon days with him. And I begin, “If someone ever asks how long we’ve spent together, I’d say for as long as my mind stretches back. I can’t tell you the day that I fell in love with you because there wasn’t a single day that I didn’t.” My voice shakes with more joy than I’ve ever known. “You have the purest parts of my heart, and I’m certain that in every alternate universe, I’m always, always in love with you.”

His chest rises with mine, our breath matched. Exhale for exhale. Inhale for inhale. He leans close like he aches to kiss me. His arms wrap around my waist. And in his sweetly edged voice, he tells me, “Nearly every day of our lives you’ve wondered one thing.”