Made to Love (28 page)

Nathan

I knocked softly and then slowly opened the
door.  She was on the bed, face turned toward the window.  It was my first
sight of her since she’d collapsed in my arms and I hated the small, frail way
she laid there, as if her entire world had caved in upon her shoulders and she’d
crumpled beneath the weight.   I knew from the crazy stipulations she placed on
our relationship, and her refusal to ever talk about it, that there were things
in her past that haunted her.  But it wasn’t until witnessing her reaction to
seeing Jake that I truly realized just how messed up her past must have been.

And I had simply added to the hurt. 

I had to make this right.  I had to make her
understand.

“Reagan,” I said, moving further into the
room. 

She turned and met my gaze.  Her eyes were
red, and she looked. . .defeated.  I had no idea what her and Jake had talked
about—I still couldn’t believe they were brother and sister—and he had offered
nothing as he’d stood there with eyes just as red, telling me it was my turn. 

“Reagan,” I began again.  “How are you
feeling?  Helen said—“

“I’m fine.”

I closed my mouth on whatever else I’d been
about to say and stared at her helplessly as she turned her face back to the
window.  Neither of us spoke, and I willed myself to remain silent, and follow
her lead. 

“You were right, you know.”  She turned back
toward me.  “There are things about me that I’ve never explained.”

“God, Reagan, that doesn’t even matter
right—“

“You were right,” she repeated.  “I placed
stipulations on you. . .us.  And I never explained why I needed them.  And I
don’t know if I can.” 

“Okay.  We will work through that.  We’ll
work through all of it, Reagan.  I am so sorry. . . .I just. .”  I trailed off
at the look on her face.

“There isn’t anything to work through, Nathan,”
she answered, shaking her head sadly.  “This thing between us is over. 
Whatever games you’re playing with your father, I won’t be a pawn in them.”  Her
words were so lifeless, so cold. . .so final.

I was losing her.

But damn if I wasn’t gonna go down swinging.

“This, you and I, isn’t a game,” I said
firmly.  “I admit that seeing you that first time, you intrigued me.  You were
beautiful, the attraction was instant, and yes.  I may have talked to Isaac.  I
had to see you again, and I’m sorry how that went down.”  I held up a hand when
she started to speak.  “And maybe I should have told you about the lawsuit
immediately, but I was doing what I could to protect you from it.  I didn’t
want you hurt.”

“And instead you were the one who hurt me,
Nathan. 
You.
”  A tear snaked down her cheek and she stabbed at it
before it could reach her jaw. 

I gripped the back of the chair I was
standing behind.  “I know!  Don’t you think I know that?  This isn’t how it was
supposed to be.” 

I walked around the chair and stood next to
the bed, staring down at her.  She refused to meet my gaze.  Pain and regret
roiled in my gut, and my chest seized as I made one last ditch effort like the
desperate man I was.  “This isn’t a game.  It never was.  Whatever you think
this started out as, it has become so much more than that.” 

Something in my tone, some sense of the
desperation I was feeling, must have come through to her because she looked up
at me then, with wide eyes brimming with tears.  “Please,” she pleaded. 
“Please don’t say it.  Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

I tilted my head and stared unwaveringly deep
into her eyes.  I was in love with her, but she didn’t want to hear it, and it
wouldn’t change anything for her anyway.  “This couldn’t possibly be any harder
than it already is.”

Her tears fell then, and she tore her gaze
away from mine and rubbed her eyes.  “I can’t do this.  I wanted to see you and
let you know that I am going back to Austin with my mom.”

My lids slid shut, as the hammer fell on my
heart at her words.  I’d known they were coming, but that didn’t make hearing
them any easier or the pain any less.  “When?”

“As soon as I am discharged and can grab some
of my things.  I’ll arrange for the rest to be shipped.”

I opened my eyes.  “I’ll take care of it.” 

She shook her head.  “You don’t have to do
that.  I—“

“I will take care of it,” I repeated. 

She conceded, and silence fell between us
again.  I knew standing here was only prolonging the inevitable, but I couldn’t
make my feet move.  She was leaving, and I selfishly wanted to drink in every
last second of these few precious minutes with her. 

But it was hurting her.  She was pale,
fighting a losing battle with her tears, and I knew my continued presence was
making it worse for her.  I leaned down and pressed my lips to her forehead. 
Tears stung my own eyes as I heard her inhale.  I moved and rested my forehead
against hers and closed my eyes.  Time was running out.

My whispered words were hurried, and our
tears melded together as I spoke.  “I’m sorry that I hurt you.  If I could go
back and change it, I would.  But
you
changed
me
, Reagan.  You
changed me, and made me feel things I never thought possible.   And I don’t
know if I will ever recover from it, but as sorry as I am at how things have
turned out, I can’t be sorry for having known you.  For having lov--”

She gripped the sides of my face and planted
her lips on mine, hard, cutting off my words.  Mouths closed, she held me
there, breaking contact and quickly connecting again, before she pushed me away. 
“Please, you have to go,” she sobbed, covering her face with her hands.

I didn’t bother wiping away my own tears as I
silently walked backward to the door and slipped out.

It was done.

Reagan

Two Weeks Later

The day I left the hospital and went back to
my apartment, I’d taken one look at Nathan’s t-shirt I’d confiscated, tossed
carelessly on the bed where I’d left it, and had slowly crumpled to the floor. 
I’d laid there for what seemed to be hours, deep, gut-wrenching sobs escaping
my throat until I was so exhausted, voice hoarse and scratchy, that I’d fallen
asleep.  Helen and Brooke had left me undisturbed, knowing I needed to let it
out, but at some point in the night, Helen had helped me from the floor into
the bed.

The next morning, Brooke tearfully helped me
pack up most of my clothes and main essentials. I’d folded up the shirt, and
had asked Brooke to make sure it was returned to him.  Helen had gotten us a
flight out that evening.  I’d met Bailey for coffee at Cup of Joe’s, giving me
a chance to say my goodbyes to both him and Gabby in one stop.  I’d hesitated
meeting with Bailey, not wanting to get into a big discussion about Elite and
what had happened, but relented when I figured he already knew anyway and it
was no reason to avoid seeing someone who had been a friend to me in my short
time there.  He’d thankfully—and surprisingly—left the subject alone and
instead had made me promise to ‘go forth and be amazing at wherever life led
me’. 

And then Jacob and Brooke had seen us off at
the airport.  There had been no sign of Nathan, and my disobedient heart ached
inside my chest.  But, it had been for the best.  As angry and hurt I’d been
with him, it had taken every ounce of strength I’d possessed to send him away
at the hospital, and I feared I didn’t have any strength left to send him away
a second time.

I’d been back in Austin for two weeks now,
and hadn’t shed a single tear since my complete meltdown the day I was
discharged.  I found myself moving on autopilot; I was here, and yet I wasn’t. 
I’d fallen into a routine of sleeping while Helen was at work, and tossing and
turning, reading through all my saved texts from Nathan, during the night.  I
should just delete them all, but like a train wreck I couldn’t look away from,
I read through them every single night, tormenting myself with what was, and
had been lost.  I had yet to return any of Brooke’s texts or voicemails, and
had only responded to Jacob once, letting him know I was home and doing okay. 
Helen worried I was sinking into depression and had made an appointment with
Dr. Rowland, which I had in turn cancelled.  What could he possibly tell me
that I didn’t already know?

I’d just showered and changed into my
standard suffering-from-a-broken-heart attire of sweatpants and a tank, when I
heard Helen call for me. 

I headed into the living room and found her
at the door with a UPS man.  She looked at me warily as I approached.  “Your
stuff’s here,” was all she said.

The UPS driver handed me a clipboard and I
hastily signed my name.  “My guy and I will start bringing it in, if that’s
okay.”

I nodded and stood out on the porch as I
watched the two deliverymen open the back of their truck.  It was official.  I now
had nothing of my own back in New York. 

Except my heart.

I became distracted as a black Chrysler
pulled up in front of the house.  I looked at Helen, who shrugged, and we both
shielded our eyes from the sun as the driver’s door opened. 

My eyes widened.  “Jacob?  What are you doing
here?”

My brother pushed his sunglasses up on his
head, and rested his arms on the roof of the car as he looked at us.  “Coming
to see you,” he offered as he slammed his door shut and walked across the lawn. 
“Sorry I didn’t give you a heads up.  But somebody doesn’t answer their phone
so I figured you wouldn’t get it anyway.”  He grinned up at me, looking
anything but sorry. 

Helen’s face was unreadable, but her southern
hospitality kicked in.  “What a surprise, Jacob.  I’m. . . I’m sure Reagan
would love to spend some time with you, won’t you, Reagan?”

I didn’t answer as I continued watching the
deliverymen unload boxes and stack them on the drive, discussing how best to
get it all in, and what should be carried in first.  Jacob followed my gaze and
then turned back to me with a raised brow.  “What’s this?”

“My stuff,” was all I responded with.  I
moved past Helen and walked down to the truck.  I heard Helen softly speak
aside to Jacob, letting him know my things from New York had been delivered.  I
stood with my hands on my hips, watching as the pieces of my life in New York
were unloaded and set on the concrete.  I barely registered Jacob when he
appeared at my side, offering his assistance.

They looked to me for my lead and I picked up
a box and headed inside, directing them where to put everything.  Several trips
later, and the men prepared to leave.  One of them handed me a small box, taped
shut, a shipping label complete with my name and address on the front.  “This
is for you.  Signature receipt so I’ll need a separate signature for it.”

I took the box, signed for it, and Helen
showed the men to the door.  She returned and stood with Jacob in the kitchen
and watched me expectantly. 

“What is it?”

“If it’s just more of your stuff, then why
wasn’t it packed away like the rest?”

I ignored their questions as I stared at the
sender’s name on the shipping label.  I knew Nathan was responsible for having
my things packed and delivered, but whatever was in this box, he wanted me to
see it right away.  There was a reason it was packed separately.  I wordlessly
dug a knife out of the drawer and sliced through the packing tape and opened
it. 

There nestled inside was the confiscated
t-shirt, with a note on top, scrawled in handwriting I instantly recognized:

It was never just on loan.  It’s yours
to keep.  It will always be yours.  N

I pulled the shirt out and over my head,
tugging it down around my torso, as a dam burst behind my eyes and tears fell
faster than I could wipe them away.  I looked helplessly at Helen.  “I forgot
my shirt,” I bawled.  She simply nodded, as her eyes misted over with tears of
her own, and Jacob stared down at the note and then back at me. 

“I’m glad you got it back then,” Helen
replied, wiping her eyes. 

I closed my eyes and stood there, as tears
dripped off my chin to wet Nathan’s shirt. 
It’s yours to keep.
  It was
mine.  He wanted me to see it, to have this right away. 
It will always be
yours.
  He wasn’t just talking about the shirt.  He was telling me what I
wouldn’t let him say back in the hospital.

He loved me.  And I had his heart. 
It
will always be yours.

I’d been so angry at the hospital.  Hurt and
betrayal had been my only motivators, and I hadn’t wanted to hear his
declarations of love or whatever he was feeling.  I’d seen them as a desperate
attempt to keep me there, and I had wanted nothing more than to put as much
distance between us as possible. 

Here, two weeks later, he was trying to tell
me again.  And while I was still hurt, I was no longer so angry.  And I had no
idea what I was going to do.

I opened my eyes and wiped them.  Jacob was
sitting at the table, and Helen was going about making lunch, both of them
doing their best to ignore the weeping weirdo in their midst. 

“Nice shirt.”  Jacob pulled out a chair for
me and motioned for me to sit.  “I think I have one just like it.”

I sat, and looked down at the threadbare gray
t-shirt, the emblazoned “Columbia University” faded across the front.  “It’s
not mine.”

Jacob rolled his eyes at the obvious.  “Yeah,
well, I think he just gave it to you.”

Helen placed turkey deli sandwich fixings on
the table, and poured us each a glass of sweet tea, breaking the somber mood. 
“How long will you be in town, Jacob?” she questioned, effectively changing the
subject.

“I have a flight back to New York on Monday
morning, so I figured I’d spend a few days with this one,” he answered, nudging
my arm with his elbow. 

“You are, of course, welcome to stay here.  I
can have the guest room made up.”

Jacob wouldn’t hear of it.  “That’s okay.  I
got a hotel and rental, so I’m good.  I just wanted to check in, see how things
were going.”

Check in on me, is what he really meant.  We
ate, making awkward small talk, until Helen shooed us out the door, giving us
some needed alone time.  It probably went against her grain to give us the
space, and she’d probably be on pins and needles until we returned, but despite
her desire to keep me away from anything that would overly upset me, she seemed
to realize that I needed this.  Jacob and I both needed this. 

“Where to?”  We piled into Jacob’s rental car
and he slid on his sunglasses and looked at me. 

“Just drive.” 

He pulled out of our subdivision and made his
way downtown.  We’d lived several miles outside of the city limits, in a small,
broken community of has-beens and used-to-be’s.  We’d never had cause to
venture into the city, but Jacob surprisingly seemed to know his way around as
he zipped in and out of traffic.  We talked about how his practice was doing
(Brooke was adjusting to slower-paced office life exceptionally well), the
latest antics of the nephew I had yet to meet, and how I liked being back in
Austin (I didn’t).  We talked about anything that kept us away from the one
subject we were both dying to discuss:  Nathan.

We’d been on the road for a good half hour
when I realized we were heading outside the city limits.  “Where are we going?”

Jacob shrugged.  “You’ll see.  Just sit back
and enjoy the ride, okay?”

I frowned at his attempt to be mysterious,
but instead of pressing him for details, I leaned my head back against the seat
and closed my eyes.  Sometime later, I felt the car roll to a stop and opened
my eyes, realizing I had at some point fallen asleep.

I rubbed my eyes and looked around, my heart
shuddering to a halt as I took in the vacant, rambling house twenty feet ahead
of where we sat.  Any windows left were broken and jagged, staring back at us
like giant teeth guarding any memories of the atrocities that had taken place
within.  The paint had always been peeling, but now seemed to be gone completely,
only a few strips here and there as the remaining proof the house had ever been
anything more than the dull, lifeless gray it was now.  Most of the roof
shingles were gone, debris scattered the clumps of brown, dead grass on the
front lawn, and I didn’t even want to imagine what kind of creatures—both the
two-legged and four-legged variety—had taken up residence once we’d vacated.

My breathing became ragged as a distant
ringing began in my ears.  I turned to Jacob.  “Why?” I breathed, unable to manage
anything else.

He touched my arm.  “Shhhhhhh.  It’s okay. 
It’s just an empty house.  No one here can hurt us anymore, Reagan.  Just
breathe. . .that’s it.  Slow and steady.”

I swallowed once. . .twice and then looked
back at our childhood home.   “What are we doing here, Jacob?”

He sighed.  “Because you aren’t the only one
dealing with. . .things.  I’ve been back in this area six times in the last ten
years but I could never bring myself to come all the way out here.  And I’m
tired, Reagan.  So we’re here because I need to be.  And I think you do, too.”

I didn’t give myself time to think.  I threw
open the passenger door, got out and walked to the front of the car.  “Come on,
then,” I said, holding out my hand.

Jacob exited the car and came around to meet
me.  We locked hands and stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the place where it
all began.   “Let’s do this.”