Page 81 of When the Time Is Right
“What is this?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing, Lex. It looks like you’re still holding on to half of Brenden’s life locked up tight in a storage unit.”
She became fascinated with her brown sandals. “Okay, so maybe it’s a little bit of that too. But I’m not holding on to it. I just haven’t gotten around to getting rid of it yet. It’s not a big deal.”
It felt like a big deal.
It felt like a betrayal.
And I had no right to feel that way. We both had a past. We’d each had front-row seats for those pasts.
But this was the present and she was mine. I beat back the flood of jealousy because it wasn’t fair. Sure, it seemed like a really long time to still be procrastinating even for Lex, but I had no reason not to believe her.
“Okay, well, then let me help. I know a guy who owns a bike shop out in Roswell. I’m sure he’d take the bikes on consignment. Maybe the rest of it we can—”
“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. Come on. Let’s lock up and go get that pizza.” She gave the door a hard yank, but with my hand still at the top, it didn’t budge.
I narrowed my eyes at the side of her face. She wouldn’t even look at me. “If it’s not a big deal, then let me take care of it.”
“I don’t need you to take care of it.” Another pull from her.
Another block from me. “Obviously you do. It’s been six years and it’s still sitting here like you’re expecting him to come bac—” I didn’t get to finish before she exploded.
“I know how long it’s been!” Tipping her head back, she finally lifted her gaze to mine, and it was the most confusing mixture of agony and anger I’d ever seen. Squaring her shoulders, she looked me right in the eye. “You do know it’s completely possible for me to do something without you stepping in to fix it, right? I’m a big girl, Hudson. I don’t need you swooping in to save the day every time I get so much as a fucking splinter.”
My back shot straight as fears I’d never even considered I needed to have rained down over me like a storm of rusty razor blades. Brenden wasn’t an issue for us. I’d been there every grueling day as she’d put her life back together. She fell into the darkness hard after we’d lost him, but eventually, she moved on. It was a process, but little by little, she started smiling again. They were all fake at first, a mask she used to hide her true devastation, but piece by piece, the real Alexis Lawson had come back to us.
Currently, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with that woman. But for some reason, she was still holding on to him.
I should have been gentle. Brenden was always—and understandably—going to be a sensitive subject for her.
I should have given us both a minute to calm down and talk about this without emotions heating our words.
For fuck’s sake, I should have at least let her close the Goddamn door.
Instead, I swung an arm out, motioning to the belongings of a ghost. “This is not a fucking splinter! This is me sharing your heart with another man when I’ve always given you every single fiber of mine.”
Her eyes flared wide and she immediately started shaking her head. “Hudson, no. That’s not what this is.”
I ignored the overwhelming need to rub the center of my chest and performed the herculean task of lowering my voice. “Then why do I feel like you’ve been hiding this? Why do I feel like this is a lie? Lex, you tell me everything. Just last month, you spent two hours talking to me about cat litter. And in six years, you never thought to tell me about this stuff? If you weren’t strong enough, you know I would have helped you get rid of it.”
Tears filled her eyes as she whispered, “I wasn’t ready to get rid of it.”
“And what about now?”
Her shoulders swayed as if the anxiety was trying to find a way out, and she frantically chewed on her bottom lip.
“Lex,” I pressed.
“Time out,” she breathed.
“No. No time-outs on this one. I need to know what I’m up against here. Are you ready to get rid of it now?”
She turned her gaze back to the storage unit and rocked her jaw from side to side.
As the seconds passed without her answer, a vise cranked down on my chest until I wasn’t sure if I’d ever breathe again.
“Babe,” I whispered, but even to my own ears, it was a plea.
“I don’t know,” she croaked.
Who knew three words could feel like a shot through the heart? The silence that followed was salt to the wound.
