Black Swan Affair (24 page)

“You lied to me,” I say in a shaky voice.

“I didn’t—”

“You fucking
did
,” I yell. “Withholding this is the equivalent of lying. We are married, Kael.
Married
people are supposed to talk about big, life-changing things like this. Not hide them from each other.”

His lips snarl in a way I’ve never seen before. “Really? Is that what we’re supposed to do, Mavs? Because I have
things
I’d like to talk about, then.”

My chest tightens.
Oh God
. This is it. The moment we’ve waited our whole lives for. The discussion that will rip us apart or unite us so we’re unbreakable. I’ve wanted to go here dozens of times since we’ve been married and now that we’re standing on the doorstep looking into that tarry pit of hurt, I just want to close the door and plaster over it for good.

But I can’t.

Because
he
is the reason we are even here in the first place.

“Just say it,” I push. I
dare
.

That distance I made sure was between us has now vanished. The tips of his shoes press against my bare toes. His chest grazes mine with each ragged inhale. His head is bowed down, his face close to mine. Swirling red-hot orbs of anger hold me hostage once again. When he speaks, his voice is thick and hoarse and guttural.

“Yeah. This is about
him
, Maverick. About the taboo subject we pretend doesn’t exist between us, but he’s always fucking there. Always between us. He’s all that’s
ever
been between us.”

“Kael—”

He grabs my chin between his thumb and finger, pinching to make a point but not to hurt me. “You don’t think I know he’s held what’s mine? Kissed what’s mine? Loved what’s mine?
Fucked
what’s mine?” He runs his trembling free hand through his hair until the pieces stand on end. “You don’t think I know you even named your fucking business after him?”

I open my mouth to deny it, but I can’t. I did it as a backward fuck-you to Killian. In college, I read Taleb’s book,
The Black Swan
, on outliers and unpredictable events. It was fascinating. Kael listened to me chatter about his theories of fourth quadrant empirical and statistical properties endlessly. So months later, when Killian’s unimaginable,
unpredictable
betrayal occurred, I was full of spite and embarrassment and it seemed fitting. Now it just seems petty.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Maverick! I know everything and I still don’t care.
That’s
how much I love you.
That’s
how wound around the very fucking center of my soul you are. It’s the same place you’ll be until I close my eyes and take my last breath. You are rooted in here”—he pounds his chest—“in the bowels of me so far I will never be rid of you. No matter how much I’ve tried. No matter how much I wanted to while I knew you were with him.”

His voice cracks. He stops. Pants. Pins me with a look that devastates me but not more than his confession or the tears I now see gleaming. “While he was the sun that lit your world, you were the darkness that shadowed mine.”

I suck in a sharp, painful breath. My soul feels crushed. Literally. Stomped on with a boot heel until it’s nothing but one big black mass of self-disgust.

“Why?” I can’t possibly fathom why he loves me. Why he married me. Why he gives two shits about someone who has done nothing but hurt him over and over, albeit unintentionally.

Why? Why? Why?

“Why what, Swan?” His voice is hoarse and aching, but there is no mistaking his affection. Still. Even now, after everything I’ve done to him, I couldn’t find more love in his eyes if I tried.

“Why anything? Why are you here with me? Why do you want me? Why did you
marry
me?”
Please explain it to me, because I just don’t get it. I don’t deserve it. I never have.

He simply shakes his head as if I’m the densest person on the planet. “Because I have enough love for the both of us. I always have.”

That’s it.

My knees give way. I fall unceremoniously into a heap on the floor and sob. I’m not quiet about it either. I wail. My body shakes with shame and heartbreak. With loathing that I haven’t been what he needs.

Strong arms circle me. They lift and carry me. He settles me, holds me, comforts me. He loves and forgives me, petting my hair. Kissing my temple. Embracing me until my sobs slow to just occasional shudders. He brings a tissue to my nose, making me blow. His love for me is as deep and boundless as the clear blue sky.

“Do you remember that first time I followed you to Old Man Riley’s lake?”

I nod, sure my voice box won’t work. My entire being is weak and not just my muscles. My soul and heart are, too.

“I knew you knew.” He chuckles. I like the feel of his body shaking under me.

“You were about as stealthy as a bear,” I whisper back. My voice sounds like it’s been rubbed with coarse sandpaper. I twist my fingers in his shirt, holding fast as if it’s the only thing binding me to earth. It may be.

Kael slides two fingers under my chin and lifts. “I’ve been in love with you my whole life, Maverick. Even before I knew what love was. But that day…” He chokes up. The waterworks start fresh. “God, that day I watched you let the real Maverick DeSoto completely out and I thought…
She is all I want. She has to be mine. I want her to be mine.
That was the day I knew I’d never love another the way I already loved you.”

Oh, the guilt. How it’s eating me alive. Its sharp teeth clamp hard and fast. They’re unyielding. He’s loved me in that beautifully painful way I’ve loved Killian. It’s nearly unbearable to hear him confess it.

His eyes search mine. For long seconds, he penetrates that place so far inside a person it’s hard to let anyone find it, let alone into it. “We can’t help who we love, Maverick,” he tells me softly.

And this is the selfless man I know. He knows how I’ve felt about Killian and he’s telling me in his own words it’s okay. But it’s not. My love for his brother has been a burden he’s had to carry alone all his life. I’ve loved the wrong man all along. Given all of me to someone I shouldn’t have. It should have been Kael. Always Kael.

“I’m sorry.”

A sad smile flashes across his lips. “No need to be sorry, Swan. But I’m done. I won’t share you with him. Not anymore. If we have any chance of making it, we have to get the hell out of Dusty Falls. We have to make new memories in a place where I don’t feel suffocated by those daily reminders that he still wants you.”

He’s right. Of course he is. Yet still…

“I know I went about this wrong, Maverick. I
know
that. I should have discussed it with you first. I should have given you that courtesy and for that, I am truly sorry. But I knew you’d need a push and it doesn’t change the fact this is what we need.
Both
of us. I genuinely believe that.” His strong hand circles my jaw, tilting it back up. “That being said, if you tell me this is a deal breaker for us, then I’ll decline the offer. We’ll stay here and I’ll work tirelessly to make sure you only see me.”

I can actually feel how hard that was for him to say. “You would do that for me?”

The smile that flashes across his face is quick and sorta sad. “I think we’ve established I would do anything for you, Swan.”

I bite my lip, my emotions all over the damn place. I’m hurt, angry and as always, I feel immense shame. We’re at another crossroads. One I drove us straight to with these underlying feelings I still have for his brother and that he still has for me. I don’t know what to do. Which road do I choose? Both are equally scary.

“But what about my mother? She’s still so fragile.”

“She has the Illians.” That draws a small smile from both of us. “And her friends, her community. She’ll be just fine.”

“What about the bakery?”

Am I really considering this?

“MaryLou can run it. Pay her a management fee. Hell, sell it to her. I know it’s your baby, Maverick, and I don’t want to sound callous, but you’re brilliant and talented and strong-minded. You can open a bakery anywhere or do anything else you want.”

Then he reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a business card, handing it to me. I turn it over in my hands.

I
t’s
from the bakery we visited in Saint Paul.

“Where did you get this?” I ask.

“I remembered she said her partner was moving. I swung by when I was up there the day your father…” He pauses briefly. I bite my lip. “Anyway, she said she wants to find another partner. The right one. She remembered you and she’s interested in talking to you. If you are, that is.” The corners of his mouth turn down slightly when he adds, “It’s your decision, Maverick. Do we stay or do we go?”

This is all so overwhelming it’s hard to digest. Kael wants to move. Away. From everyone and everything. Start over again in a strange,
big
city.

But can I do that? He’s given me so much and never asks anything of me in return. Never. Can I give him this one thing that clearly means so much to him? Can I truly leave my life behind? Leave our house? Our friends?

The bigger question, though, is can I leave
Killian
? That’s the
only
question he’s really asking me to answer.

And that answer this very second is: I don’t know. I honestly do not know since the thought never crossed my mind. Maybe it did in passing but never seriously. And if I don’t—if I
can’t
—what does that mean for us?

“
W
ow
.”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.”

“I know.”

“I’m…wow.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I know, I know. Just…let me breathe it in for five seconds,” she chastises. MaryLou pinches the bridge of her nose. Tweaks her eyes closed. Then snaps them open. The intensity slices into me. “I don’t understand why you’re hesitating, Maverick.”

“What?”
This
is her advice? After “breathing it in” for all of five seconds? It killed me to say it but I told Kael last night I needed to think about this for a few days. He was disappointed, I could tell. God, it hurt to see his hurt. But he’s had months to come to terms and I just got blindsided about twelve hours ago. Twelve hours with no sleep accompanied now by a raging headache. It still stings that he was sneaking around behind my back. Blatantly lying about why he was making trips out of town. In truth, it pains me he didn’t trust me with this sooner. But I guess I kinda deserve that.

MaryLou powers around our work surface covered with white flour and dough chunks and grabs me by the shoulders. “Yeah, I mean he’s right. You need to get out of this place.”

“I don’t—”

“Yeah, you don’t. That’s part of the problem, Maverick.” That sigh coming out of her mouth is deep and thoughtful. Oh, and did I mention fucking irritating? Grabbing my hands, she drags me over to two plastic chairs lined against the wall. She shoves me in one and whips the other around so we’re face-to-face, knee-to-knee.

“You’ve come a long way, Mavs. You have. You’ve finally found a way to let that asshole go and to make a life with Kael. And even with your dad’s death, you’re still bright and glowing and happier than I’ve seen you in…honestly…ever. I give you all the credit for that because only
you
can make you happy. But while you’ve put all that focus on Kael, Killian’s still breathing in the background. And that breath is toxic, Mavs. It’s fucking poison. It will slowly strangle you and you won’t even know it because you can’t see it and you can’t smell it and you can’t taste it until it’s too late.”

She pauses to drag in some air before starting again. “I don’t know what Killian’s story is and quite frankly, I don’t give the fucks of a farmer’s dozen. But there is one thing I do know.”

MaryLou lowers her chin and raises her brows so her eyes stay glued to mine.

“What?” I say in a snarky tone, tired of her theatrics.

“He’s biding his time until he can get you back.”

I start shaking my head. I don’t believe that’s true. If Killian wanted me back, I wouldn’t be sitting here discussing uprooting my entire existence and moving it for another man. I’d be married to him. “I don’t—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” She squishes her sticky finger into my lips, shutting me up.

“Hey!” I shove her dirty hand away and rub my mouth, frowning at the blackberry jam now smearing my chin.

“Again, that’s your problem, Maverick. You always ‘don’t.’ Do for once.
Do
,” she emphasizes.

“Do,” I repeat more to myself than her.

“Yeah.
Do
.”

I stare at my lifelong friend who is telling me to pack up and move away from the only place I’ve known like it’s just that simple. And I suppose to MaryLou, it is. She always makes complicated decisions sound so rational and easy.

On the other hand, though, I think I always make them too hard.

“
Q
uite the shindig
,” my mother states, her laugh tight. She’s uncomfortable here. It’s written all over her stiff posture and rigid spine. She’s holding that glass of “house” wine in her hand with just the slightest hint of disgust. It hasn’t escaped my notice she’s not taken a sip, the quality far beneath her refined tastes. But hey…she’s here and for that, I guess I should be grateful.

I let my gaze flow over the crowd at Peppy’s. Kael rented out the place for the night and is paying for the entire party. Our last big hurrah before the move to Saint Paul next week.

“Yeah.” I take a sip of my Jack and Coke, extra Jack. “Quite the shindig.”

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind. For two days, after my talk with MaryLou, I pondered that one word of hers:
do
. Of anything,
that
one word hit me square in the chest. It hit and it stuck and I couldn’t get rid of it. That one word started eating away at every excuse I had until they were nothing. Until it’s as if they never existed and there was never any doubt at all.

I remembered how I felt freer than I had in forever that weekend Kael and I spent away from Dusty Falls. I recalled the peace that settled around me knowing we could walk the streets and just be us Kael and Maverick—a regular ol’ married couple, instead of someone’s brother or sister or daughter or shunned former lover.

Once I sorted through the betrayal I felt about Kael keeping his job hunt a secret, I knew the only decision I could make was to follow my husband. Why did I even doubt that? I
love
him. I want to have babies with him. I want a life with him and
only
him. But the most important thing is…I want him to be happy. Kael’s waited patiently for me all this time and he deserves a life free of those goddamn chains Killian has cinched around him. And so do I.

After my epiphany, I wholeheartedly agreed to follow Kael wherever he wanted to go. Minnesota, Paris, London, The Maldives. I tried hard for the Maldives, trust me. Shoulder shrug. But the frigid winters of Minnesota it is.

“How is Kael doing?” my mom asks.

“Good. Yesterday was his last day at DSC. He starts his new job on Monday.” To say he’s been stressed would be an understatement. He’s been working until ten or eleven every night. He promises me it won’t be like that at Braham but I know how a new job works. It takes time to get up to speed, and time equates long days. But that’s okay, too. I’ve been in contact with Mia several times and we’re set to meet for cocktails on Tuesday night to discuss potential partnership in her bakery.

I’ve also discussed selling my baby, Cygne Noir Patisserie, to MaryLou. She’s on the fence. She’s nervous. I get it. I was nervous being a business owner myself. So for the time being, she’s agreed to a raise to manage the day-to-day operations. We’ve posted an ad to hire someone to replace her. I’ll eventually convince her buying it is her one and only option. I know Kael and I won’t be back and I can’t run a small business like that from afar.

“Any luck finding a place?”

“We have a few lined up to see next week.” Until then, Braham is putting us up in the Ordway Suite at the Saint Paul Hotel, a stunning, upscale hotel that looks more like a castle on one side than a place to hang your hat at night. And the room? It’s fantastical. I’ll probably never want to leave.

“Are you excited?” I shuffle my attention from the throngs of people drinking and dancing and chatting to my mother. I look for derision or jealousy. I see none. I see only genuine concern for her daughter. And support of her decision.

“Nervous,” I admit. Incredibly nervous. And while I know in my heart of hearts this is the right move for us, it still saddens me somewhat it’s come to this. We’re fleeing an entire life, shedding old skin, because of one person in five thousand. A needle in a haystack that keeps poking us no matter how much we wiggle around to dislodge it.

“I think it’s the right decision, Maverick.”

I’m almost stunned silent. I know it must be hard for her to see Kael leave her deceased husband’s company. No matter what Kael’s trying to lead me to believe, it’s a great loss for DSC. “You do? Why?”

My mother, who has been avoiding eye contact with me during this whole conversation, connects her eyes to mine. In them, I see depth and years of experience waiting to be passed on to the next generation so we don’t make the same mistakes. She smiles. It’s soft and worldly and kind of motherly. Huh. “I know a lot of things, Maverick. And I know I’ve not done a good job of sharing them with you. But this…
this
I know is what you two need to bloom and grow into the couple you were always meant to be. Dad would have approved.”

Shit. Those tears seem to be at the ready more and more lately. I blink them away, not wanting to bring the night down. “Thank you, Mom,” is my husky response.

“Welcome, sweetie.” Then she surprises me even more by giving me a hug. A real one. It’s brief, but it includes full arms and body contact. Not a fake one with a double back pat and an inch between us.

When we break apart, a heavy arm swings around me, drawing me into an—eeeewwww—sweaty body. “Hey, sweet thang,” a low voice rumbles in my ear.

“Hey J,” I garble back, short of the air I need to talk properly because J Ton is crushing it from me.

“Where’s your boy toy? We need him.”

I groan. Karaoke time. “I don’t know.” In fact, I haven’t seen Kael for quite some time.

The “Illians” arrived about an hour ago. Killian hovered over by the bar, ordering drink after drink. I tried to ignore him, I really did, but I felt his eyes all over me, like a thick film glazing my skin. I never did return his voice mail from the night Kael came home and upended my world. He’s tried me countless times since. Even popped into the bakery, but Carol’s now been schooled about Killian’s surprise drop-ins. She told him I was “indisposed.” He huffed and left.

But as I look around, not only do I not see Kael, I don’t see the man we’re both trying to escape. “Let me take a look around,” I tell him. Then to my mother, “Be right back.” I set down my nearly empty drink and take off through the crowd.

I push my way through the throngs and make it to the hallway leading to the restrooms. I stand on my tiptoes, giving me another inch, and scan the room. There are so many people here, it’s like salmon swimming upstream. Everyone looks the same.

“Hey,” I grab Leigh David, an old classmate of mine walking by. “Have you seen Kael…or Killian?” I add quickly. I have a feeling wherever Kael is I’ll find Killian.

“Hey, Mavs. Congrats on the move. Sounds like a good gig.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I quickly agree. “Kael? Have you seen him?”

“Uh, yep. I think I saw him go out back with Killian.” He hooks his thumb toward the emergency exit.

“Great.” I pretend smile. “You having a good time?”

“Awesome. This is a great party.”

Uhhhh…any
free
party is a great party. “Thanks,” I say tritely, rushing toward the back door. I push it open, spilling into a back alley that’s dimly lit.

The second I’m outside I hear them. Their voices stream from my left. They’re heated, just shy of yelling. Exactly like the day of my father’s burial. Their disembodied voices flow from around the corner.

It only takes about five steps before I’ve completely tuned them in. I push my back up against the wall, listening.

“It’s over now. She needs to know,” Killian growls.

“And what purpose would that serve?” Kael fires back.

I have to assume the “she” they’re referring to is me.
Why is my heart racing, picking up pace while my ears strain to hear Killian’s response?

“She deserves the truth, Kael.”

What’s over? What truth?

“And what truth is that?” Kael parrots my thoughts.

“That this whole fucking thing was her father’s doing!” he roars so loud my body vibrates.

Kael’s laugh is sharp and short. “Her father’s? No, Killian. It was
our
father’s doing. And yours. Don’t forget you wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t gotten Jillian pregnant in the first place. Richard may have pulled the trigger, but you loaded the gun, brother.”

What? Kael has to be mistaken.

I expect Killian to deny it. Tell Kael he has no idea what he’s talking about. Jillian was never pregnant with Killian’s child. If she were she would have taken out an ad in the local paper to announce it.

He doesn’t, though. He stays silent.

Suddenly my lungs feel weighted down with a metric ton of water.

Jillian was pregnant? When?

“Just what the fuck do you think she’s going to do with all this now, Killian?” Kael contends vehemently. “Forgive us? We all have dirty hands here. You, me, Jillian, our parents.
Her
parents. For Christ’s sake…Richard is dead! This shit is so far behind us, it would only hurt her at this point.”

What in the ever-living fuck is going on here?
I want to scream that I’m here, I’m here, I’m here! I want to charge around the corner and pound my fists into both of them until they stop talking in riddles and spill the secret it seems everyone knows but me.

Killian doesn’t respond. For what seems like forever, all I hear are the sounds of cars driving by on Main Street, the occasional boisterous drunken laugh, and the beat of my heart thudding so hard against my ribs I’m surprised they don’t hear it, too. The silence we’re all in screams at full volume. It’s so loud I can hardly stand it.

I want to take another step, but I can’t. My muscles are on lock-down. When Kael speaks his tenor drips with pure contempt. “You think if you tell her the truth you’ll get her back? Don’t you, you fucker?”

Killian’s response is icy and even. “If you don’t tell her, Kael, I swear to fucking God I will.”

Tell me? Tell me what? What, goddamn it? Just say it!

I hear a scuffle. Shoes crunching against gravel. A thud, followed by the sound of breath heaving. “You’re right about one thing. This
is
over. You do whatever the fuck you feel you have to do, Killian. I don’t give a rat’s naked ass. But you breathe a word about this to Maverick and
I
swear to fucking God, brother or not, I will ruin you. She’s happy. She’s finally fucking happy and you will
not
take that from her. You hear me?” Kael’s voice is low and threatening, textured with menace.

“I’m already ruined. And you are not taking her from me.” Killian’s voice sounds husky…as if maybe his airway is being cut off.

This must be why Killian’s been trying to reach me. I think back to his cryptic comments that day Kael was out of town so many months ago:
You think you want answers, but sometimes it’s the truth that destroys, Small Fry, not the lies. I have tried protecting you my entire life and this…I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from this.

When Kael responds to his brother, it’s more of a growl than anything else. “She is
my
wife. Mine. Not yours. Get that through your thick skull, brother. And I can take her wherever the fuck I want.”

“She should be
my
wife, not yours.”

Catching air becomes nearly impossible. Heat crawls over every inch of my skin, pooling like liquid fire in the center of my chest.

My head is spinning. This is the first time since Killian stood in front of me with Jilly, announcing he was going to marry
her
instead of me, that he’s admitted it should have always been me. Like we’d talked about. Like I always knew. Killian wanted
me
to be his wife, not Jillian.

Then why am I not? And what do our fathers have to do with any of this?

And other questions start creeping in, smothering out the ones before them. Equally important ones like: Is this move coincidental or strategically planned? Is it really about Kael and I starting a fresh life together or did Kael just want to get me out of town to keep some sort of sordid secret from me?

And the answers…they seem so fucking clear, it’s as if I’m looking through a magnifying glass. Whatever it is Killian passionately wants me to know, Kael doesn’t with equal fervor. Of course this was methodically planned. How could it not be? Kael all but just admitted it.

We all have dirty hands here. You, me, Jillian, our parents. Her parents.

I choke back a sob, stuffing my hand in my mouth.

What do I do? What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? I’m leaden, stuck in indecision. Turns out I don’t have to decide. I cringe when a loud bellow floats from behind me. “Maverick, what are you doing out here?”

Great fucking timing, Larry.

“Shit,” I hear Kael mutter. Seconds later, he appears from behind the brick, Killian on his heels. The rays from the lone streetlight hit them just right and I can make out every emotion they’re wearing. Guilt, worry, and rage are written in the hard lines of their faces. We stand there staring at each other, my eyes bouncing back and forth between them. I ignore Larry when he brushes against my shoulder.

“Hey.” Kael tries for lighthearted. Big fat fucking fail there. He takes a step toward me. I hold out my hand, palm facing him.