Forever Starts Tomorrow (19 page)

‘I need to apologize to you.’ The man in question interrupted her unhappy musing, looking chagrined. Was it the effect of his sleepless nights? The Scott she knew well didn’t like apologizing. Instead, he’d find a totally plausible reason why whatever he did made sense and was the best possible choice.

‘What for?’ Was her voice really so hoarse? Melanie didn’t want to listen to whatever he had to say. A terrible suspicion formed in her brain, crystals of pure ice condensing in her breast like razor-sharp spikes of pain. Did he do something with Vanessa that was worth apologizing?

‘I should have told you she has been working here for a few weeks now,’ he continued, rubbing his forehead in a tired gesture. ‘I knew, deep down, that it was idiotic of me to keep it from you. I just convinced myself that it didn’t matter, since nothing fishy was—or would be—going on.’

She felt joy spreading throughout her body, glorious and unstoppable. Up to that moment she hadn't allowed herself to go deeper into that suspicion, being too afraid to put into words what it was that she was worried about most. It wasn't even the act of physical adultery, which would be horrible in itself—what had scared her most was the idea of Scott sharing with his ex-girlfriend a deeper connection than he had with Melanie, taking away from what they had together. But apparently, that wasn’t the case.

‘It is hard for me to…’ He paused, searching for the right words, and she waited, breathless. ‘To deal with the fact that you don’t trust me. I know that you have every right to doubt me, and I can’t blame you if you do.’ His powerful shoulders were tense. ‘Still, I’ve been trying all my life to be honest, you know. Not saying I always do the right thing, of course. It’s just that it… hurts if you don’t believe me. You, of all people, should know I would not lie about something like that.’

He paced the room, his long legs moving in restless strides.

‘My dad cheated on my mom.’ He turned to the window, his profile carved out of granite. ‘He lied his way out of his marriage, simply and easily. My mom lied to us too—to my uncle and to Marnie and me. She promised to come back and take us with her. It never happened, as you know.’ His lips pressed together into a line, and he stared outside with unseeing eyes. ‘I promised myself I’d never let anyone hurt me the way they both did. Also, I knew I’d never put anyone through the pain of being betrayed and lied to.’

Melanie wanted to hug him, desperately so—to come closer and lean her forehead against his tense back. To make him understand she knew what he felt. It was the first time in the seven months they'd been together that he had been so totally and completely honest. In those months, they'd talked about tons of things, discussed the world and ways of fixing it, laughed, made love, shared stories. She thought she knew him well enough to accept his ring.

‘When you confronted me in the restaurant, I got really mad.’ He turned to her, his dark eyes hooded. ‘I thought that you were incapable of understanding me and didn’t trust me at all. If you really assumed I’d go out with Vanessa after we just decided to get married, there wasn’t much point trying to change your mind.’

She watched him, her body frozen into a statue. He had almost given up on them, apparently.

‘But I couldn’t really do it.’ He smiled slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting in a memory that couldn’t have been all bad. ‘I didn’t care if you really mistrusted me or used it as an excuse because you were regretting our engagement. I couldn’t stand the thought of never having you around again. The house felt so empty I could scream. José’s appearance was a blessing in disguise, since it made you more willing to be around me.’

‘I wasn’t trying to get away,’ she mumbled, as tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over, making wet tracks down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand in an angry gesture, embarrassed to show him her weakness. ‘Are you insane? All I wanted was to be closer to you!’

He was just about to answer when Marc burst into the office, his slim, usually calm face frantic. His glasses were bent at an odd angle, and she could see the panic in his eyes even before he opened his mouth, which took all of three seconds.

‘Scott, you need to come and see it. Remember the flaw you mentioned before and how we thought it was fixed? Damn, but you were right.’ He finally noticed Melanie, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. ‘Sorry, Mel. It’s just that this is super important, and Scott was right. Hate to admit it, but the man is usually right.’

‘No problem,’ Melanie said. If he'd told her she needed to jump from the fifth floor with a parachute she’d probably go along with it. At the moment, she couldn’t get annoyed. ‘I need to get going anyway.’

‘Not so fast.’ Scott didn’t share her gracious attitude. He hated interruptions. ‘How about I pick you up for lunch? We could talk some more.’

‘Make it dinner.’ She was fully aware of the fact that he’d probably stay in the testing room till evening. She couldn’t blame him really; the release was only days away.

‘I have a few things that need organizing, anyway.’ Suddenly she had an idea, and she looked up at him excitedly. ‘How about I go see Raoul? That way I can warn him to keep the news from your brother for a bit longer, until you have time to talk to him yourself.’

‘No way.’ He shook his head, his expression disapproving. ‘You’re not going alone to see them. It is not the safest part of town—you’ve seen it. I will talk to him as soon as possible, but please don’t go there by yourself, or even with Marnie. I know she’d have no problem going with you, so don’t even give her any ideas.’

Of course, the famous Scott Masden overprotective drive had to kick in. She could only imagine what he’d say if he knew the whole truth about her pregnancy. It irked her to have him so pushy, but she could understand his concern. José’s family lived in a rather desolate part of town. Their move to the bungalow Scott wanted them to take was still a topic of negotiations. She had no doubt he’d get his way. He always had, and with negotiators much tougher than Raoul Rocha. Still, he had met his match in that modest yet proud man who didn’t want to accept charities from anyone.

In the end, Melanie agreed and left the two men to their professional discussion. Marc turned discreetly away as Scott kissed her, a proper kiss that lasted long enough to make her breathe faster as the blood coursed through her veins with the speed of light.

‘I’ll call you as soon as I’m done,’ he whispered, his lips lingering on hers a second longer. ‘Looking forward to our dinner. We need to finish this conversation. We've made great progress so far, don’t you think?’

She couldn’t have agreed more.

FOURTEEN

Someone was waiting for her on the steps to her home, a small, huddled shape tucked in the shadow of the wall, barely visible as she stepped closer. It was still early in the day, and the red brick house was glowing in the pre-noon sun that blinded her momentarily. She didn’t notice anything until she was very close, her steps slowing down in surprise.

The person was too small to be an adult, she decided, her worry replaced by curiosity.

‘Hey,’ she said softly, half-expecting a neighborhood kid playing a trick on his friends or following a dare. Not that they had too many kids in the building, of course. Her townhome housed mostly older people or young couples with toddlers and babies.

‘Melanie?’ A head went up, and she gasped. José’s small, tear-smeared face was staring at her from the shadow.

‘What are you doing here?’ She crouched closer, putting their faces on the same level. ‘How did you even find out where I live, José? Is your uncle around?’

He shook his head, his lower lip quivering. There was no need to continue outside. She helped him up and opened the door.

‘Come in,’ she offered calmly, avoiding the bright tone adults usually adopted when talking to upset kids. Melanie could never figure out how could anyone expect it to work in the first place. Her first memory of her stepdad was exactly like that, and she still remembered her bewilderment and awkward response. His cheerful, booming voice had set the tone from the very beginning of their relationship, with her child’s mind instantly seeing through the falseness of it all.

José followed her, his hands clutching his jacket. It was getting warmer, but she figured he must have left his home when it was still cool enough to wear it. That discovery worried her, of course. How long was he wandering around and, most importantly, why?

‘Would you like something to drink?’ She gestured toward the kitchen, imagining he must have been thirsty. ‘I’ve got milk and juice.’

He nodded, the movement of his dark head jerky. ‘Milk, please.’

Melanie couldn’t help but notice how similar he was to Scott. With his straight eyebrows and regular features, he was a carbon copy of her fiancé. She had to wonder if their kids would look like Scott as well. Watching that child reminded her of another life, still tiny and hidden inside her.

She poured him a generous amount into one of her tall glasses and pointed to the kitchen table. She remembered the kitchen at his house, the center of the home. He probably associated it with safety and comfort.

‘What happened, José?’ He was drinking fast, his hands wrapped around the cool glass. It took a few seconds before he lifted his head again, a smudge of milk on his upper lip. It would have made her smile in any other circumstances, but right now she was too worried.

‘What happened?’ she repeated, more insistently this time. He had to start talking, right? She had no idea what she’d do if he didn’t.

Finally, his lips parted, and he looked at her sadly, the darkness of his eyes as infinite as the midnight sky. ‘I ran away from home. My uncle has visitors, you know. Some relatives who came for the funeral tomorrow. They were very loud and I heard them talk about Papa. Lots of mean words. I was supposed to be still asleep, but I couldn’t.’

She felt anger boiling with unexpected force, mixed with a sense of protectiveness she wasn’t even aware she was capable of. Hadn't he gone through enough already? It didn’t take a genius to realize that loud bashing of his family would make him feel even worse.

‘People always gossip,’ Melanie said, hoping to sound convincing. ‘It doesn’t mean by a long shot that they are saying the truth.’

‘It made sense.’ Suddenly he looked older, his expression wiser, as if his childhood had been erased and replaced with a bitterness that wasn’t suitable for a twelve-year-old. ‘Papa didn’t come often to visit. He didn’t take me out to places with other people. He was always in a rush. And I was thinking about what Grandma said about Scott coming to see me because Papa asked him to. I don’t think it’s true.’

She knew from the start that playing along with Maria’s version of events would come back to bite them. That was what usually happened with lies, even the white ones. How she could retract them without undermining everything was the paramount question.

‘Maybe it wasn’t exactly as she thought.’ She spoke carefully, aware that she was treading on thin ice. One wrong move and she’d crush through the fragile, thin layer. ‘But Scott came to see you, didn’t he? And he wanted you to come with him to visit?’

His next revelation crashed her hopes of diverting his suspicions.

‘They were talking about this article.’ He reached in to grab his jacket and pulled a wrinkled page from a newspaper. The edges were jagged and uneven, the paper torn and missing some of the lines. Still, it apparently was readable enough to make him want to run. ‘I waited for everyone to go outside; Uncle Raoul was taking them out for early breakfast. We don’t really have enough stuff to set the table for eight people.’ He looked embarrassed, and she felt the urge to hug him.

‘So, once they were gone, I snuck into the kitchen and found the newspaper. Why would someone say so many mean things about my dad and Scott? And about you too?’

There was no good answer for that.

‘Well, people make money writing stories about others.’ She tried to come up with an explanation he’d actually trust. ‘Scott is quite well known, José. His company is very popular, and people are interested in finding out more about the man behind it. Writing exciting things that aren’t always true is their way to cash in on people’s interest.’

‘But this isn’t really what he’s like.’ José pointed to the paper, furious. ‘They made him into this… this mean guy with lots of money who doesn’t care about anyone. That’s not true.’

‘Why did you run away?’ She had to ask him that question, but wasn't sure if she was ready for the answer. ‘Don’t you think your uncle will worry? Or Ramona?’

‘I was mad,’ José admitted, his cheeks stained red. ‘I listened to them talk about my dad and my brother, and I wanted to get away. Uncle Raoul hates my dad; now I know for sure.’

‘It’s not that simple.’ Melanie sighed, her temples throbbing with the beginning of a massive migraine. She couldn’t let him believe that his family had let him down, not even when she wasn’t very impressed with their way of handling things. Raoul might have a loose mouth and a temper, but he did love José and had provided for him the best he could.

‘I don’t want to go back.’ José pouted, and suddenly he looked like a little kid again. It didn’t matter that he was twelve. ‘I wanted to go see Scott at first, but I was worried he’d get mad, especially if he saw the paper. I found the card you gave to Ramona, and it had your address. I hope you don’t mind me coming over.’

She shook her head. His dark eyes were too hopeful, and she couldn't disappoint him.

‘How did you even get here?’ Melanie asked instead, her quick calculations making the distance about fifteen miles. He couldn’t have walked all the way, could he?

‘I had some money that I saved up.’ José reached into his pocket and took out two five-dollar bills. ‘See, I still have some change.’ He smiled proudly, his small face lighting up for a moment. ‘I was helping out with the renovation of the corner store in June. I made enough to ask a neighbor to drive me to the city. He didn’t care why, as long as I paid.’

He must have noticed her surprise because he rushed to calm her down, his voice earnest. ‘Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him your address, just the beginning of the street. I walked from there.’

Other books

What a Duke Dares by Anna Campbell
Captive Rose by Miriam Minger
Roads to Quoz: An American Mosey by Heat-Moon, William Least
The Garden of Last Days by Dubus III, Andre
Noble's Way by Dusty Richards
Son of Thunder by Libby Bishop