Chapter 20

20

I was shaking.

My stomach was knotted worse than the other day when Hayden made me go to the hospital.

Everything hurt.

There wasn't a single inch of me that didn't feel like I'd been beaten.

My Valentine, so strong, so broken.

His perfect life torn apart by tragedy.

I wished I had my car here so I could go back to his childhood home and burn it to the ground. Of course, I'd get Mr. Malone to safety first. I might not like the man but I'd still save him even though he hadn't saved his son.

My mother wasn't loving or affectionate. But I knew in her way she did love me. She'd provided for me after my dad left. She hadn't sank into a bottle or lost herself in the grief of losing the man she loved. And she had loved my father deeply. She'd tried to hide it, but as I got older it was obvious. Plus I'd found lots of pictures of them from before I was born and a few of all three of us. I'd never seen my mother look as happy as she had in those pictures. It sucked but not even with Nathan did she look that carefree and blissful. She looked like a woman madly in love. Then years later that man had abandoned her.

Now I understood.

Standing on the precipice of losing the man I loved, I got it.

How that would change a person. Shape their future. Kill important parts of you.

It was strange how my mother could hold me distant while smothering me at the same time. How she could be cold while at the same time showing me how much she cared. Admittedly her delivery sucked, but she truly wanted what was best for me. Happiness didn't factor because she knew all too well happiness could be fleeting. There one day, gone the next. So instead she wanted to make sure I would never be unprepared for life.

But she didn't teach me how to love.

And now I was questioning myself.

You fought for the people you loved, right?

You didn't let them push you away, right?

I could love the pain away, right?

Gah!

I didn't know what I was doing. I swiped my purse off the table, dug through it, tagged my phone, then plopped down on Valentine's couch and called the only person I could .

"Yo," Hayden greeted, out of breath.

Unwanted thoughts of him with Khloe made my lips curl in disgust.

"You busy?"

"I was, but I'm not now. What's wrong?"

Gross!

"Never mind. I'll?—"

"Sophie, I'm at the Hope Center playing ball. What's wrong?"

"If you're playing ball why'd you answer?"

"Because it's you and I always answer when you call no matter what I'm doing. Correction, I almost always answer unless I'm otherwise pleasurably engaged. You know that. Stop evading and tell me what's wrong."

I don't know what I did to deserve a best friend as good as Hayden but I was grateful. So grateful, I forgave Oakley for being such a monumental prick because he gave me this.

"Everything," I admitted.

"Where are you?"

Now he sounded like he was huffing, which meant he was running so he could come to me.

But he couldn't.

Not this time.

I'd started this. Now I had to see it through.

"I'm at Valentine's but?—"

"On my way."

Shit .

"Hayden, you can't come here. "

"Come again?"

"Just listen to me."

"I would but you're not talking except to tell me everything's wrong and I can't come to you."

I shouldn't have called him. Hayden was just as protective as Valentine. This could—and would—turn ugly fast if Hayden came here and Valentine came home. Likely Valentine would tell Hayden to take me and Hayden wouldn't like that so he'd gladly whisk me away, then I wouldn't be able to do what I needed to do.

"I think I screwed up and I need your help."

"How'd you screw up?"

"Valentine broke up with me and left. He told me he didn't want me here when he got back and I told him I wasn't leaving," I rushed out.

"Fuck that! I'm coming to get you."

God!

"Please don't. I need you to listen but I can't tell you everything without breaking Valentine's confidence. But I can give you a little so you understand the gist, then you can tell me if I messed up and how to fix it."

There was a brief pause and a car door slammed on his end.

"You can't come here," I hissed, panic rising to a fever-pitch.

"Start talking, Huxley, but I make no promises."

I started talking. I told him just enough without telling him things that I knew for certain Valentine wouldn't want him to know. Which meant I left out his father's drinking problem. But I did explain that Valentine lost his mother and sister and his father hadn't recovered. I also had to tell him that Valentine's father made him feel unworthy. I knew Hayden would never tell him anything that I said, but it still felt like a betrayal. But I needed him to understand so he could guide me.

"Did I totally screw up?" I whispered when I was done.

"No, Soph, you didn't screw up," Hayden said, then blew out a breath. "Did he say where he was going?"

"No."

"Do you want me to go and find him?"

He'd do that for me but also for Valentine. The two men were friends and Hayden was the type of friend who didn't allow his friends to suffer in silence. Case in point, now, when he'd put himself in front of Valentine's pain and make himself a target to help him see his way through it.

"No. Just talk me through this. He was really mad, Hayden."

"Fuck!" he clipped. "Can I come pick you up? We'll go someplace and talk then I'll drop you back at his place."

"I don't know how long he'll be gone and I have to be here when he gets back. I have to be here. Before he left I told him I'd be here, ready to fight to prove to him he's worth it. If I leave he'll never see what he means to me. He won't ever trust it. You didn't see him, Hayden. He was empty, haunted, totally destroyed. I can't leave this house until I either win or I have nothing left."

"Christ, you're killing me, Sophie."

"Help. Me. Hayden. Am I not supposed to stay and fight? Am I doing this wrong? I can't screw this up or I'll lose him. I saw it happen, the second he shut down on me. I have one shot at getting him back."

"You love him."

He wasn't asking yet I still answered, "Yes. I just need to know if I'm loving him the right way."

Hayden blew out a long sigh.

"This is gonna go one of two ways, Soph. He's either blowing off steam, working shit out in his head and he's going to come home and know he made a mistake, or he's somewhere shoring up his defenses. If it's the latter it's gonna be ugly and you have to be prepared to take some emotional hits. He's gonna be spun up, his pain is going to be close to the surface, and he'll strike out at you."

Damn .

That didn't sound good.

"Is there a third way this can go?"

"No, sweetheart, it's gonna go one of those two ways with no in-between."

My best friend didn't sound happy.

"I only know Valentine as a mellow dude. Great with the kids at the center. Good friends when they come around. Solid guy when we've hung out. But I only know what I've seen and all of that is surface, so I gotta ask, are you scared of him? "

"Scared of him?"

"Do you think he'd get physical?"

"Never!"

"You didn't?—"

"I don't have to think about my answer. The answer is no. Am I scared? Yes. Very. I'm scared he's too far gone and I won't be able to reach him. I'm scared I won't be enough for him to want to face what's eating him. It's huge—so big he's hidden from it for over two decades. That's what I'm scared of. That's what I need you to help me with."

I glanced around Valentine's living room with new eyes, a clearer understanding. It was minimalistic and clean. No clutter anywhere to the point of boring. No daily detritus. Dishes were done right after we were done eating. Garbage was taken out daily even though the bag wasn't full. His bathroom was the same—clean, tidy, void of any kind of mess. He made his bed every day. I sniffed trying to catch a whiff of something but there was nothing.

Clean, sterile, barren.

I thought it was because he was a bachelor and didn't care about his environs. But he did care. He cared so much he'd rather live in a house completely devoid of any personality than live in a home with a speck of dirt or a full bag of trash.

How long had he lived in that filth before he got out?

"You still with me?" Hayden called out.

"Yeah, sorry. I missed what you said. "

"I said, you're enough. And if you can't break through and make him see the woman he has on his hands, then I don't care what he's going through, he's not right for you."

"Don't say that," I whispered.

"Sophie, please listen to me," he said on a long exhale. "I love you more than I love my own blood. You're my best friend. You're the only person in this world that I trust. You're enough. More than enough. I like Valentine. I hope he doesn't end up being stupid and that's what he'll be if he shuts you out. He'll lose you, then he'll spend the rest of his life regretting it. That'll suck for him. But that will be on him.

"The last thing I can tell you is this. You're strong. You're a fighter. So stay and put up one hell of a good fight. Buckle up and let the bullshit he's probably going to spew bounce off you. But you're gonna have to know when to quit and walk away. And honestly, that might be the only thing that wakes him up, depending on how deep he is into his trauma. He might have to lose you before he can find himself. Then it will be up to you if you take him back or not."

God, I hoped it didn't come to that.

"So you think I did the right thing?"

There was a moment of hesitation before my best friend rocked my world. "I think he's the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. I think he'll never do better than you. I think he's going to pull his head out of his ass and see who he has on his arm and in his bed and he'll know love like he's never known. "

I was taking that as Hayden thinking I was doing the right thing.

"You know you only deserve the best, right?" I chanced telling him.

"And let me guess, you don't think Khloe's it."

There was a thread of humor in his voice but still I treaded cautiously.

"Um, no."

"Fear not, my love-sick friend. I am not in the market to settle down. Khloe knows what she's getting and what she's not getting from me."

Well, that was the best news I'd heard since I met the bitch.

"Your objections are noted. I won't bring her to the apartment anymore."

"Don't be ridiculous. She's not the first one who I'm not particularly fond of." Understatement . "It's your apartment, too. Bring home who you want. You know the rule; as long as they don't use my shampoo and conditioner it's all good. And if they steal my clothes it's immediate expulsion. Though we need another rule, seeing as this one's a coffee hog. I get right of first refusal for the last cup of coffee when I'm home."

"What are you talking about? I've never seen Khloe drink coffee."

"She drank almost a whole pot the other morning."

God, I did not want to think about that day or the medical bills that would soon be coming in for an ER visit and the useless tests the doctor ran .

"I know you said that, and I thought it was strange. Like I said, I've never seen her with a coffee."

"Just a warning, pal. Women like it when you pay attention to their preferences. That goes double for a coffee lover."

"Guess that's why I don't pay attention. Don't wanna send the wrong message."

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.

"You good?" he gently prodded.

"No. I won't be good until Valentine comes home and we have this out."

"Rephrase. Are you better than when you called me?"

"Absolutely."

Thank God for Hayden. I don't know what I'd do without him.

"Right. Then I'm gonna let you go. Call me if you need anything. I'm always here."

"I know you are and I love you for it, Winslow."

There was a stretch of silence before he ended the call with, "There will never come a time when I won't be at your back."

With that, he disconnected.

I tossed my phone on the couch and rested my head on the cushion and waited for Valentine to come home.

Then I waited longer.

Night fell and he still hadn't returned.

So I sat there and readied myself for the battle I knew would come.

A battle I had to win or I'd lose everything.