Young Truths (Young Series) (14 page)

Somehow, it’s worse this time around. I didn’t come back into this with fresh, naïve eyes; I knew exactly what I was getting myself into and this time Tyler was in the mix from the very beginning. I should be afraid of the things to come, and I am, but for very different reasons: my children are right in the middle of everything and I’m absolutely terrified for them. Matthew and I have proven that we can take care of ourselves; Tyler’s too young to really understand what’s happening and Olivia... Part of me is relieved she isn’t here with us yet; the thought of having to care for a newborn in the middle of all this is something I’m trying not to think about too much. Mostly because I know she’ll be here sooner rather than later and there is only so much I can do to protect her. Right at this moment, though, I know there is nothing in the world I wouldn’t do to protect my children and my husband. They are my world and if something ever happened to any of them, my life would mean nothing.

I’m absolutely determined that my family will bounce back from this and be stronger once we come out on the other side. I only pray that moment arrives soon

“Matthew, what are you doing?”

Despite my attempts, I can’t keep the exasperation out of my voice as I enter the bedroom. It was hours before I managed to fall asleep again and even then I only managed a short nap, because my daughter the gymnast was working on a new routine. I had to force myself to get out of bed when the time came to wake up Tyler for school and make breakfast for him.

His back is to me and his shoulders tense at my words. “Getting dressed,” he says warily. “What does it look like?”

I raise an eyebrow at him even though he can’t see me. “It looks to me like you’re going against doctor’s orders and getting ready for work,” I say evenly. “But I know that can’t be right because you promised me you were going to take a few days off to recover.”

He sighs, turning to face me as he buttons his jeans. “Samantha, I feel fine. You’re going to be at work all day. Tyler’s going to be at school...” he says patiently. “There is no reason I can’t go into the office for a couple hours.”

I sit down on the bed and watch him put on his shirt and socks. “For once, can’t you just consider the possibility that time off might be the best thing for you? I know working is your default routine when you’re stressed out, but...” I trail off, uncertain what to say that might talk him out of this.

“But what?” he asks softly. “But I should just ignore all of this shit? But I should let my company sit while I hang around here with my feet up? I can’t do that and you know it. I have to be doing something.”

“What if it was me?” I ask suddenly. “If I was the one with the orders to stay home and I was trying to go into work. Are you seriously telling me you wouldn’t be threatening to tie me down to keep me from going to work?”

He actually glares at me. “That’s not fair,” he accuses in a low tone.

“Really?” I challenge. “Why would I be under doctor’s orders to stay home? Because it would be best for my health and our baby’s? Because I’ve been given warning after warning about what could possibly happen if I overexert myself? You’ve gotten those same warnings and the last thing we need right now is for you to end up back in the hospital. This situation is hard enough without that, Matt.”

I can see his resolve cracking as he sits beside me. “What is it you expect me to do, Sam?” he asks quietly. “I feel like my world is crumbling at my feet. The only people I can count on anymore are you and Tyler. I have no control over any other aspect of my life whereas before, I knew what I was doing every second of the day. I thought I had all my shit in order for a change and
this
happens.” His tone is bitter as he gestures around us. I know he’s referring to the fire. “And I
hate
feeling like this.”

“Like what?” I practically mouth the words. I didn’t expect him to start opening up like this and I don’t want to do anything that might make him stop talking now.

“Like no matter what I do, I can’t keep my family safe. Or like things just keep getting worse around us and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” He stops for a moment, staring down at his socked feet before looking back at me. There is an emotion in his gaze that I can’t quite identify, as I’ve never see it before, but he’s never looked more vulnerable to me. “When you left me, I thought I understood your reasoning. You wanted normalcy for Tyler and yourself, and you both deserved it. You still do. And now all I can think about is how desperately I want that for you. Why should you deal with your home burning down around you while you sleep? Or some stranger following you around everywhere you go for God only knows what reason? Or any of the other bullshit you deal with day in and day out because of me?”

He’s really starting to scare me now. Not because of his words—I’ve heard those words from his mouth a hundred times—but because of the borderline hysterical tone in his voice. I slide closer to him and tentatively reach for his hand. He grabs mine like it’s his last lifeline.

“The worst part about it,” he says in a low tone, “is that I know things would be so much easier if I had Leo around to help. Before he died, he told me how I took everything in my life for granted—him especially. And now I’m starting to think he was right. I never noticed how much he actually did until he wasn’t there to do it anymore. Even if he was just there to bounce ideas back and forth, he took so much stress off of me. I miss that, Sam. Almost more than anything.”

Resting my head on his shoulder, I comfort him the best way I can right now. “I realize I’m a poor replacement for your best friend,” I say quietly, “but you can bounce ideas off of me any day of the week.”

“You are far from a poor replacement for my best friend, Sam,” he says just as quietly and I think I actually hear a hint of amusement in his voice. “You
are
my best friend. The best I’ve ever had and all I want to do is protect you.”

My eyes water immediately at his words. “The same goes for you, you know,” I tell him softly. “You’re my best friend, too, and I want to protect you just as much. But you have to let me.”

The smile that forms on his lips doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You shouldn’t have to protect me,” he admonishes softly. “Not from this. You should be happy and carefree and counting down the days until our daughter is finally with us. Not fleeing your home in the middle of the night.”

“Matt, I am happy,” I tell him emphatically. “What can I say or do to convince you of that?”

He turns to look at me incredulously. “How can you be happy right now?” he asks as though he truly can’t comprehend my words.

Despite the uneasiness in my body, I manage to find the strength to speak. “How can I not be?” I retort.

He shoots up suddenly, startling me, and begins pacing around the bedroom with his hands fisted in his hair. “Samantha, have you been paying attention to the things going on around us at all?” he finally asks. “We could have died the other night without ever knowing there was a fire in the house. All of us. The only reason I even got out of bed at all was because that damn dog was scratching at the door. How does that make you feel?”

I struggle to keep my expression calm while on the inside I’m imagining all the things that
could have
happened that night. “It makes me feel lucky,” I reply honestly. “It makes me think that somebody was looking out for us that night. It reminds me about what’s important. And it makes me damn thankful that Mark Reilly’s dog snuck out of his apartment for a late night booty call with a neighbor dog and that Mark was kind enough to give us that damn puppy. Matt, you of all people ought to know material possessions mean exactly jack shit to me. What matters to me most is that we all got out alive. I’m ecstatic that I’ve still got my husband and my son and my daughter. The rest is just...” I trail off for a moment, trying to find the proper word, “...
stuff
.”

He stares at me silently for a few moments. “I didn’t mean to imply that the house or the stuff inside it means more to me than my family; I assure you that is most definitely not the case. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you’re my world and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and our children safe.”

“Are you happy?” I ask him. He looks startled at the question. “You asked me and I answered; now it’s your turn. Are you happy, Matthew? Despite everything that’s gone on, everything we still have to face, are you happy?”

After hesitating a few moments, he walks back to me and kneels down in front of me. “I’m happy with you,” he whispers. “I’m happy with Tyler. I’m very happy that I’ll soon be able to hold my daughter in my arms.”

“Then that’s what matters,” I tell him simply. “The rest doesn’t. And look at it this way: you and I can build a new house for our family. Something that’s ours instead of just yours.”

He contemplates my suggestion for a few moments. “I like that idea,” he says softly, a genuine smile on his face. “And there are times that it really annoys me when you make so much sense.”

I smile back. “Well, that is my job as your wife—making so much sense that it annoys you.”

He chuckles, resting his head in my lap and wrapping his arms around me. After a few minutes of this, I feel him exhale against me. “Well, my job as your husband is to make sure you don’t have to worry about the things that I worry about. And it’s getting harder to do that, Samantha.” I glance down and find him still resting in my lap. “I’m trying so hard not to admit how positively terrified I am not knowing what is going to happen next or how to get back in control of our life.”

I run my fingers through his hair and I’m relieved when I feel some of the tension beginning to leave his body. “I’m scared, too,” I whisper. “More scared than I’ve ever been in my life. Mostly because I’m afraid that I’m going to turn around and you’re going to be hurt or worse and I won’t be able to do anything about it. Matt, I want you to be able to share all your concerns and fears with me, because I’m damn sure going to be sharing mine with you. If you miss Leo, tell me. I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling about losing your best friend. As much as you hate when his name is brought up, I’d be devastated if something happened to Tom. I went through so much with him, good and bad, and it might not be the same as what you and Leo went through, but...”

“I get what you’re saying,” he states quietly. “And it’s not that I’m trying to keep these things from you; I just can’t think of the right words to describe what I’m feeling. Anger. Resentment. Betrayal. Sadness... Those don’t even come close. All I can do is keep busy with work and figure out the source of all this bullshit.”

“Diving head first into other things isn’t going to make anything go away,” I tell him. “Believe me, I know. I tried everything to block out my mother’s death and nothing worked until I met you. You helped me through that more than anyone else; let me help you for a change. You don’t always have to be the strong one around here, Matt.”

I expect him to argue, to tell me that of course he has to be the strong one, because that’s the man’s role in any relationship; instead, he holds me tighter. “I’m trying,” he whispers. “I really am.”

I nod, my fingers still combing through his hair softly. “I know you are. And I appreciate it.” He nods into my lap. “Matt, please don’t go into work today. Take some time off. If you’re really bored, come help me at the bookstore; we just had a shipment and it’ll take me all day to unload without any help.”

Finally, he sits back on his heels, his hands resting on my knees. “Okay,” he says resignedly, shaking his head slightly. “Okay. I won’t go in. Am I at least allowed out long enough to take our son to school?”

Rolling my eyes at his tone, I stand. “Smart ass,” I mutter, making him chuckle. “You can take me to work on the way.”

“Nice place,” Marcus says in appreciation when he enters the apartment. “It’ll make one hell of an office.”

I nod my agreement, leading him towards the kitchen where I get a couple cans of soda out for us. “That it will. I never actually considered the possibility that we’d be living here, though.”

“Better than being out on the streets. Not that you don’t have enough money to buy an entire street and renovate it to look like the fucking Ritz...” I snort a laugh at him. “Anyway, we both know I’m not here to praise your interior decorating skills. I managed to get into your office last night. Have to say, I’m impressed; just like you said, the room was sealed off, stable, and untouched. I fed your fish, by the way.”

Grinning, I take a sip of my drink. “I’m sure they appreciated it. Don’t suppose you managed to get into the rest of the house?”

“I didn’t trust the hallway floors outside the office, but I did take a peek. There’s a lot of smoke damage, but for the most part, I think that part of the house is fixable. As for the rest...” He trails off, shrugging. “The fire and generator explosion made it unrecognizable. All in all, I think it’s going to be a write-off unless you intend to put all your efforts and money into building around what’s still standing.”

Not the news I wanted, but not completely unexpected either. “Did you get that stuff out of my desk?”

He reaches down to his feet and pulls a bag up, placing it on the table. “I cleared out your top drawers just like you asked. If I missed something, let me know and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “Any news on what exactly started the fire or who might have done it?”