Keeping London (The Flawed Heart Series Book 2) (27 page)

“No.” I shake my head. “He wouldn’t have cheated on me.”

“How do you know? He broke up with you over an email. I don’t think you know him as well as you think you do.”

“I know him,” I protest. “The email said,
It’s over
. That could mean anything. Maybe his deployment is over? His mourning period for Cooper? Who knows?” I know, in my heart…I do. But what the heart knows and what it chooses to believe are two different things.

“London, you’re being naive.”

“No, I’m not. You don’t know Loïc like I do. He wouldn’t cheat on me. He loves me. Something’s wrong. I don’t know what happened over there, but he needs me. He’s probably depressed because Cooper died. Plus, who knows what else he saw? I’m not giving up on him. I won’t. Something doesn’t add up. Maybe he needs time? Or perhaps I just have to be more persistent. I’m not going to let that blonde bitch keep me from him. I know that, once he sees me and we can be together and talk things through, then it will be okay. We’ll be okay,” I say, reassuring myself more than anything.

Paige sits next to me. Her lips press into a sad line. She tucks a loose piece of my hair behind my ears and stares at me. I don’t like the pity I see in her eyes.

“London, you know that saying?
If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it is yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.
Maybe you need to move on and put the ball in Loïc’s court.”

I adamantly shake my head. “No, that doesn’t apply here at all. That’s a horrible suggestion.”

“London…” Concern lines Paige’s voice.

“Stop. I know what you’re thinking. I’m not weak. If I thought that Loïc had the capacity to cheat on me, then I’d be reacting differently. Yes, the baby thing threw me off-balance for a hot second…but I’m back. I’m telling you, something’s not right. Maybe Sarah’s lying, or maybe Loïc’s just helping her because she has no one else. I’m not sure, but I’ll find out,” I say with conviction.

“All right, but as your best friend, I need to say this, and I need you to hear it. You can choose what to do with it after that, but please at least just listen. Okay?”

“Say what you need to say,” I groan, expelling a breath.

She places a hand on my leg. “Loïc is the first man you’ve ever been in love with, and I know you love him a lot. I think you love him so much that you can’t imagine your life without him. I know your love is real. But you can’t judge
his
feelings based off of yours. No matter how much you love someone, you can’t make him love you the same unless he wants to. I believe you’re in denial, and I think the longer it takes you to figure that out, the harder it’s going to be when you do. I know you’re going to be heartbroken. But you have to let him go, so you can heal and move on.”

I place my hand on top of hers. “I’m so thankful that I have someone like you who loves me so much. I love you, Paigey Poo. But you’re wrong about Loïc, and I’m going to prove it. I’m going to get him back.”

I smile wide and hop off the couch. I need to go call Georgia with the recent developments and start working on my plan.

Denial, my ass.

I get what I want…especially when what I want is the love of my life.

Loïc might not know it, but he wants that, too.

Loïc

“When the mind is weak, nothing else matters.”

—Loïc Berkeley

My phone buzzes with another text from London.

I love you. Forever. Please call me.

I can’t take much more of her constant texting and calling. Each time she calls, I want to throw away my phone for good. I especially can’t handle when she stops by and pounds on my door for what seems like hours. I can’t risk seeing her. I feel like a prisoner in my own home—for more reasons than one.

I wish I could just get rid of my phone altogether. I don’t want one. I wouldn’t need one either, except to talk to Maggie. I have to have a way for Maggie to get ahold of me. She calls fairly regularly—most times, late at night, when she’s crying. I always pick up. She deserves that. Cooper deserves that. I think it helps Maggie grieve to talk to me partly because I was close to Cooper, too, and partly because I was with him when he died.

I’m leaning back in a lawn chair in our backyard. It’s a seemingly perfect May day in Michigan. A warm breeze moves across my skin. I would normally be out kayaking or hiking. But I can’t do any of that. I can’t find a sliver of joy among my darkness.

“Hey, babycakes,” a very cheerful Sarah stands beside me, casting a shadow over my chest.

“Hi.”

“The baby’s kicking. Do you want to feel him?” she asks excitedly, bending to grab my hand before I’ve answered.

She places my open palm against her belly, and the two of us wait in silence. After a few beats, he kicks.

“Did you feel it?” she shrieks.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Isn’t that awesome? He’s so strong.”

I nod. “He is.”

“We need to talk more about the names. Have you thought of any good ones?”

“I told you, Sarah, that’s your call. Name him whatever you want.”

“But I want your help,” she whines.

“Well, I can’t think of any.”

“We should go somewhere today,” she says, changing the subject. “Where do you want to go? It’s so gorgeous out!” she exclaims brightly, holding her face up to the sun.

“I don’t feel like going anywhere.”

She plops down in the grass beside me. “Tell me a story of London, of your nan and granddad.”

“Not today.”

She continues, as if she didn’t hear me, “Remember how many stories you used to tell me of your childhood? You had so many. Do you still remember them all? Or we could play I Spy. We used to play that game all the time. I think your game and stories single-handedly stopped us from going crazy of boredom every night.” She laughs to herself. More quietly, she adds, “It’s weird that I had some of the best times of my life when I was homeless with you, you know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Look at us now. We’ve come a long way since those days.” Sighing happily, she asks, “Can I get you anything? A sandwich? A glass of lemonade? I just made some.”

“Okay, a lemonade.”

“Great,” she says, standing. She squats down and smooths my hair away from my forehead before planting a quick kiss there. “You know, we’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay, Loïc. I will never leave you. I will always be here for you.”

“I know.” I nod.

She smiles before standing again and heading into the house.

She’s such a ray of sunshine in my life, but I struggle to feel her warmth. I’m having a hard time with life right now, and I know Sarah is trying to make it better.

Yet, each time I look at her, I feel anxious. I can’t let down anyone else in my life. Truthfully, it’d be easier for me to have no real relationships. I think I was right about that from a young age. Relationships lead to love, and love leads to loss. Every. Single. Time.

I can’t cut Sarah out though. I feel a strong sense of obligation to her. I always have but especially now.

I’m just so tired. I’m walking around blind in a world that doesn’t make sense.

There’s no light because I can’t break out of this perpetual night that I’m in. My mind holds dark thoughts, horribly gruesome visions, that I have no ability to control.

When one thinks about a warrior, they think of a strong person who has the capacity to yield something powerful. But what everyone fails to realize is that the mind is the biggest muscle of them all. The brain controls everything. When the mind is weak, nothing else matters. When the mind is fragile, one is left helpless.

I’m fighting to find purpose. I’m trying to find a point to it all or at least a semblance of peace. Yet, right now, all I feel is hopelessness.

My dad was wrong. I’m no warrior. I’m a weak-minded coward. Perhaps I always was.

London

“I more than love him. The way I feel about Loïc is more than just a need, a want, a feeling. It’s more than a word.”

—London Wright

Paige and I are doing a
Friends
marathon on Netflix. This show reminds me of my mom. She bought all the seasons on DVD when I was younger, and she, Georgia, and I spent an entire week one summer watching every single episode from all ten seasons. This show somehow seems timeless to me. I just love it. Every couple of years, I do a marathon. I keep hoping to see the news come out that they’re going to make a
Friends
movie to update us on their current lives. Yet, so far, nothing.

“Oh my God…this is the best part.” Paige chuckles as Ross’s boss arrives to visit him at his new apartment after Ross’s mandatory time off from going crazy at work, right after his second marriage—the one with Emily—failed.

“He’s hilarious,” I agree though my voice sounds dull and way less enthusiastic than it should be.

It was Paige’s idea to do a
Friends
marathon. I’m sure she thought some comedy could get me out of my funk. I wish it were that easy.

A marginal smile crosses my face as I think of the scene about to happen. Ross is my favorite. Everyone on the show is hysterical, but there is something about him that cracks me up every time. He’s so out there that it’s funny. From his apartment window, he’s about to see Monica and Chandler having sex in her apartment, and he’s going to totally lose it in front of his boss. Normally, I’d already be in tears from laughter.

But the laughter isn’t coming, and God knows, I don’t need any more tears.

Just as Ross’s eyes bulge and he starts yelling for Chandler to get off his sister, my phone buzzes next to me on the couch.

I glance down and see Loïc’s name come up on my screen. “Stop it! Stop it!” I shout to Paige as I point to the TV. “It’s him!”

She quickly pauses the show and looks at me, wide-eyed and expectant.

“What do I do?” I ask her.

“Pick it up,” she urges.

The phone buzzes for the third time. “I don’t know. What do I say…” My thoughts are a jumbled mess as I plead to Paige for an answer to a question I’ve yet to ask.

I’ve waited so long for him to call me. I’ve dreamed about hearing his voice again. Now, he’s calling.

My body floods with equal parts fear and relief, but both of them are drowning in my sea of panic.

What does he want? He must be ready to talk? Does he miss me? Does he want to get back together? Is he calling to tell me that he’s sorry for putting me through this heartache? Maybe he’s calling to tell me he’s on his way over? Does he want to talk about the baby and reassure me that it isn’t his?

It can’t be his.

Paige shouts, “London! Pick it up!”

I jump, startled.

I quickly slide the screen to accept the call before it goes to voice mail and then slowly bring the phone to my ear. “Hello?” My voice is weak and shaky, but nonetheless, it sounds stronger than I feel.

“It’s me,” he says quietly in a voice that’s low and hollow.

I barely recognize the sound of him, but it’s him.

My heart beats wildly in my chest. “Hi.” I pull in a deep breath. “I’m so glad you called.”

“Listen, London, you have to stop this.”

His comment confuses me.

“What?”

“You have to stop calling and texting. You can’t come over here again. It’s over, London,” he says with authority before pausing. I hear him sigh. “Okay? It’s over.” This time, he sounds less sure.

“But—”

He cuts me off, “No, London. But nothing. It’s over. I can’t keep doing this with you.”

Loïc’s good-bye sets a fire to my soul, giving me a renewed sense of strength.

This will not be it. He cannot do this to me, to us.
He’s confused or scared. I have to prove to him that he’s wrong.

“Loïc, I need to see you. We need to talk. Whatever is going on…let me help you. We can work on this together. It’s not over. Please let me in. I love you.” My voice breaks on the last sentence. Those three little words don’t even do justice to the way I feel about him.

I more than love him. The way I feel about Loïc is more than just a need, a want, a feeling. It’s more than a word. It’s a lifetime of commitment. It’s a lifetime of love, respect, trust. It’s an eternity of hugs, laughter, passion, and lust. It’s everything I say and do forever. Loïc will be present in every thought and action I take for the rest of my life.