The Maybe Series Page 17

  “You’re wrong. I’m down on one knee right now because you are the strongest woman I have ever met. You are determined, honest, beautiful, and, yes, a little naive. You are every bit as strong as your father was. I might not make the perfect husband. In fact, I know I won’t. But I want to spend the rest of my life falling in love with you.”

  He pulls a box out of his pocket. He pops it open, revealing a gorgeous princess cut diamond. “Princess, will you marry me?”

  I bite my lip as I look into his intense eyes. I have no idea what to say.

  Yes.

  No.

  I don’t know.

  They all go through my head. And then they all zoom out again. None of them is the right answer. None of them will make either of us happy. None of them will bring an end to this story.

  I finally open my mouth to say the only word that feels right leaving my lips, “Maybe.”

  A slow smile tugs at his lips as he shakes his head at me. “That’s not going to work. I can’t take that as a yes. I need to hear you say it.”

  I take a slow deep breath as I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I open my mouth to tell him my answer when our phones simultaneously go off. I pull my phone out from my clutch.

  Mother, the screen reads.

  I see Killian reaching into his pocket. He runs his hand through his hair.

  We both press Accept at the same time. We each lift the phone to our ears at the same time. We both say, “Hello?” at the same time.

  We both feel the pain at the same time.

  “I’ll call a car to take us,” Killian says immediately, dropping his question.

  Now that there are more pressing issues to deal with, it doesn’t matter if I say yes or no. His perfect proposal is ruined. Maybe that’s a good thing because I’m not sure I had the strength to tell him no, even when it’s what is best for both of us.

  I watch as Killian talks on the phone as he paces back and forth in the beautiful garden. I…I don’t move. I don’t know how to feel. It doesn’t feel as bad as the last time I got a call like this. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much, but it still hurts. Maybe because Granddad is just in the hospital and not actually dead. Maybe it’s because my father was my everything. Maybe it’s because, this time, I might actually have a chance to say good-bye, if that is what this comes to.

  I watch as Killian quickly makes his way around the room, blowing out all the candles. I don’t move though. I can’t. I feel him grab ahold of my hand, but I still don’t move. I’m not even sure if I’m breathing or if my heart is still beating.

  “Kinsley, we need to go out front. The car should be here any minute.”

  I still don’t move. Killian puts his arm around my shoulders and guides me forward. I move but only because his arm is around me. It takes a long time to make our way through the casino and back out onto the strip. Neither of us speaks as we move. We just move as one unit.

  When Killian pushes the doors open to the vibrant lights of the busy strip, I move. I don’t know if it’s the lights or what that jolts me back to reality. Whatever it is, I’m thankful.

  I see the blacked-out Cadillac Escalade parked in front of the casino. I grab Killian’s hand. “Come on,” I say as I run to the car. Killian runs with me.

  I pull the door open and dive into the cab as quickly as possible. Killian has already run around to the other side and is jumping in. I close the door and hear a small tear of my dress from getting it caught in the door. I pick up the torn fabric and run it back and forth between my fingers. The fairy tale is over. I glance to my left where Killian sits. This is over.

  It hurts to know it’s true, but it is. This will wake both of us up. It will make both of us want to live a full life—a life we choose full of happiness and mistakes, a life we live for us.

  Killian closes his eyes when he sees it in my eyes. This is over. He knows it as well as I do.

  I tell the driver which hospital Granddad’s at, and then we are driving away from the casino, away from my life, away from the fairy tale, and back to reality.

  “Mom,” I say to the blonde woman slumped over in a waiting room chair.

  Her hair is a mess. It’s ratted and dirty. I don’t know when she showered last. She’s wearing an old T-shirt of Dad’s and pink pajama pants. She at least had enough sense to put on tennis shoes.

  “Mom,” I say again as I grab her shoulders while I squat in my dress in front of her.

  She moans but doesn’t look up at me. I grab her cheeks, lifting her head. The smell of alcohol is intense on her breath. I have to look away from her to take a deep breath.

  Shit, why did she have to do this today?

  I have no idea how to deal with her while she’s drunk. Dad was always the one who dealt with her when she was drunk. I never had to. Now that she’s a raging alcoholic every other night, I don’t know what to do. I feel guilty for not taking better care of her, for not staying at home and being there for her. But I thought it was for the best. I thought her therapist and AA sponsor would handle her. I thought she would be better by now.

  We never got along, even before it happened, even before I destroyed the family reputation. We never got along when she was sober. We have never gotten along.

  “Here,” Killian says.

  I look over my shoulder and take the coffee out of his hand.

  “Have her drink it. It will help.”

  “Mom.” I place the cup in her hand. I wait until she has a good grip on the cup before I remove my hand. “Drink this.”

  She does. I sit in the chair next to her and take a deep breath for the first time since she called me. How she managed that call, I don’t know. I don’t know how she did it in the state she is in.

  I look up and mouth, Thanks.

  Killian just nods his head as a nurse runs up to us. I stand, afraid she is here to tell us bad news.

  “Are you relatives of Lee Felton?”

  Killian and I both nod.

  The woman sighs. “Good. I need someone to fill out the insurance forms.”

  My eyes grow wide. I can’t deal with this shit, not right now. I need to take care of my mother. I need to see my grandfather. I don’t need to be worried about figuring out what insurance he has.

  “I’ll do it,” Killian says, to my surprise. He leans over and softly kisses me on the cheek before he begins following the nurse.

  “Wait. How is he doing?”

  “He’s still in surgery. But I’ll have someone come get you as soon as the surgery is over.”

  I nod and then sit back in the chair next to my mom. I don’t know if Killian will be able to fill out the forms. But I have faith he will find a way to keep the nurse away for a little while at least.

  I glance over at my mom, who is now sitting up a little higher in her chair. I watch as she runs her hand through her long locks and then sips on her coffee. It seems to be helping.

  I shake my head, disgusted that she is drunk. I never imagined she would fall to this level. She seems so lost without my dad. But I know that’s not true. She never really loved my dad. She only married him for the money, for the house, to pass on money to me. I realize now, looking back on their relationship, they were never really happy together. They never really loved each other. They never chose each other.

  “I’m not drunk,” my mother says, glaring at me.

  “I never said you were.”

  She smiles slyly. “You’re disgusted. That’s what you thought. I’m not drunk. I’ve only had two drinks.”

  “Then, why do you look like complete shit? I know it’s not because you gave two shits about my father. And you sure as hell don’t care about what happens to Granddad.”

  “Wow. Someone has finally grown a pair.” She takes a sip of her coffee before staring off into space.

  I think the conversation is over, that this is all I’m going to get from her. She’s drunk. There is no other word to describe her state.

  “I loved your father very m
uch, more than even he knew.”

  “You don’t need to lie to me. Granddad told me. He told me the truth—that the only reason you got married was because it benefited the company and your pocketbook.”

  Her eyes meet mine, but I don’t expect to see the pain in them.

  “You have no idea what you are talking about. I loved your father very much. Yes, our marriage was arranged, but it was arranged because I loved him, and it was the only way to get your father to notice me instead of being stuck in his career. The opportunity arose, and I took it.”

  She takes a deep breath. “Don’t you dare accuse me of not loving your father. I gave up everything for that man. I never wanted children. Did he tell you that? I never, ever wanted fucking children. But I had one for him. He wanted children, someone to pass on his precious company to. So, I had one.

  “I wanted to move out of this godforsaken place. I wanted to move somewhere with a beach, but I never did. I stayed with your father, even when he stayed late night after night at hotel after hotel blaming it on work. I knew what he was doing. I loved him, even when he didn’t love me back.”

  Tears are streaming down her face. “I loved him, even when he was loving other women.” A sob escapes, and she takes a minute to just let it out of her whole body.

  “Don’t you dare accuse me of not loving that man. I loved him desperately and without asking for love in return. It tears me apart to think that one of the only remaining links I have left to that love might be dying on the operating table.” She glares at me. “And the other is about to make the biggest mistake of her life.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to take it all in, but it’s a lot to take in. She accused my father of not loving her, of cheating on her. I don’t want to think about it. I’ve always loved my father. I don’t want to know if what she said is right. I can’t know.

  “What do you mean, I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life? I thought I already did that five years ago.”

  She laughs. “What you did wasn’t a mistake. I know I told you time after time that it was. I know I blamed you for my failed marriage. I blamed you because it was easier to blame you than myself. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I should never have agreed to marry your father. It was the worst mistake of my life. I ruined my life forever when I said, ‘I do.’ I can’t get back the last twenty-five years. They are gone. I don’t even know if I can figure out how to live again for another twenty-five years.”

  She stands from her chair, surprisingly steady on her feet. “Don’t make my mistake. Don’t marry that boy. I’d pull the trigger before I made that decision again.”

  My mother scares me with her words. I’ve never heard her talk like this.

  I watch her walk toward the restroom, and then I stand and follow her. I’m afraid to leave her alone after she basically told me that I should kill myself rather than marry Killian.

  I stand outside the restroom as I text Scarlett. I ask her to meet us at the hospital. I tell her that I’m worried about my mother’s mental state and that I need someone to stay with her twenty-four/seven for a while. I know I will owe Scarlett big time for doing this for me, but I don’t care. It will be worth it. There is no way in hell I can spend the next few days watching my mother.

  I’m not sure I believe a word that came out of my mother’s mouth. I never have. Our relationship is too far gone to be repaired.

  When Scarlett texts that she will be here in the next half hour, I sigh in relief. I just have to watch my mother for a half hour. Then, I can move on to more important things. Then, I can go back to praying like hell that my grandfather lives.

  I feel a hand on my shoulder.

  “I brought you some coffee and breakfast.”

  I rub my eyes before glancing up at Killian. I take the coffee and breakfast sandwich he brought me before I glance back to my grandfather’s hospital bed. He made it through the open-heart surgery, but he still hasn’t opened his eyes yet.

  I unwrap the sandwich and find a bacon and egg sandwich. I take a bite, letting the greasy goodness dissolve in my mouth. I glance at the clock on my phone. It’s seven a.m. We’ve been here all night.

  “You should go home, Killian. You need to get some rest. You’ve been a great help, but there is nothing else you can do. We just have to wait until he wakes up.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I sigh and take another bite of my food.

  He really has been amazing. He was able to fill out the insurance information without any help. He helped get my mother into Scarlett’s car last night. He kept me fed all night. He found some clothes from the gift shop so that I could change out of the ballgown I had been wearing. He found me a blanket and pillow, so I could get some sleep. He’s been by my side the entire night—taking care of me, holding my hand, doing anything I needed without ever asking what I needed. He just knew. He knew better than I did.

  I don’t ask him again to leave. In fact, I like having him here.

  He sits down next to me and unwraps his own sandwich. We eat in silence. Both of our eyes stayed glued on my grandfather, looking for any signs of movement or for any signs that he is still in there.

  When I’m done eating, I toss my wrapper into the trash can beside the bed. That’s when I realize what will make Killian leave. I realize what will make him go back to bed or to work or to wherever he feels he belongs instead of wasting his time in a hospital room.

  I slowly turn to face Killian. I don’t look sad. I don’t look happy. I don’t look like anything. “I have an answer for you.”

  I watch as his eyes fill with regret and pain, a face I wasn’t expecting.

  “I don’t want to hear it, not until after your grandfather wakes up.”

  “My answer isn’t going to change though. Even after he wakes up, I’m still going to have the same answer for you.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I can’t hear it until after he wakes up.”

  I sigh. “Okay.” I don’t feel okay though.

  I need to stop pretending that Killian is my future. I need to stop relying on him. I need to stop relying on anyone but myself. I need to be able to make a decision about my life and then deal with the consequences, no matter how awful they are.

  I turn back to my grandfather. His eyes open. They open wide.

  “Granddad,” I sigh as I stand. I embrace his body in a hug.

  “Hi, princess,” he breathes into my ear as his arm comes around me.

  When he releases me, we both turn and stare at Killian.

  Terror flashes over Killian’s face as he realizes that, at any second, I will give him my answer. But he shouldn’t seem so afraid. He’ll want to hear my answer. My answer will set him free.

  “I’ll let the nurses know he’s awake,” he says, leaving the room.

  I laugh softly at his reaction.

  I wait until the nurses and doctors check Granddad over. I wait until after they tell me he should make a full recovery in a few days. A week, they guessed. Then, he will have to frequently meet with a cardiologist for a while, but he seems to be out of the woods for now. I wait until Killian leaves to call everyone at the office to let them know that Granddad is okay. I wait until Granddad seems comfortable. I wait until he is alone. I wait until I’ll explode if I wait any longer.

  “I’m not going to marry him. I refuse. I’m not going to let you or Dad or Mom or anyone else choose for me anymore. I’ve made mistakes in my past, yes. I will always regret those mistakes, but I haven’t been living since I let you guys control me. Since Dad’s death, I’ve tried to make my own decisions. They haven’t always been the best, but I’ve made them for me.”

  I pause, giving him a chance to yell at me or tell me I’m wrong.

  He doesn’t, so I continue, “I can find my own husband on my own time. I don’t need your help. I don’t need the money either. I might have a stupid degree that I don’t care about, thanks to you, but I’m smart. I can go b
ack and get my MBA. I can go back and get any degree I want. I can make something of myself on my own. I don’t care if I have to live in a box and eat cereal for years until I have enough money to buy a place. But it will be my place. It will be my money.”

  I take a deep breath. “I refuse to turn into my mother. I refuse to be that miserable. I won’t marry him,” I say, collapsing into a chair. Standing up to Granddad took everything out of me.

  I look at my grandfather who has yet to say a word. Instead, he is just sitting there with a serious look on his face. It probably isn’t fair to him to spring all of this on him, only hours after he woke up from open-heart surgery, but I don’t care. I can’t live without making my own decisions. I can’t keep living like a princess. I have to find my own way in life.

  He pats the side of the bed, and I slowly, cautiously get out of my chair and sit on the edge of his bed.

  “You’re just like your father.”

  I stare at him in confusion.

  I loved my father. He was an amazing man, but I’m nothing like him. He was strong where I’m weak. He was decisive where I’m indecisive. He was a workaholic where I’m lost.

  I shake my head. “I’m not.”

  A smile tugs at Granddad’s lips. “You are. You won’t listen to anyone. You choose your own path. And you defy my every decision, just like him.”

  “I never—”

  He puts his hand up, stopping me from arguing with him. “I always thought you would fight me till the very end on my decision for you to marry Killian. I don’t think I ever thought you would just follow my command. Maybe, if your father was still alive, you would have listened better to him, but I doubt it. Somehow, I think we would have ended up here, both at odds and neither of us wanting to give in.”

  My head drops. He’s not going to back down. I’m really going to have to find my way on my own with no money.