The Best Kind of Trouble
Page 90
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“Ezra’s hurt. You said some shit to him. But he’s your brother. You two have that relationship. But whatever you said to him, you said it in front of her. He refused to say what it was, but he said you did some damage. He’s smart that way. Don’t let your ego overrule your common sense.” Damien went to the door. “Text me when you’re ready. I’m going to have to cajole my wife into not maiming you. She’s pretty fond of Natalie.”
“I’m f**king fond of Natalie. God. You guys are acting like I did something horrible. It was a fight. She’ll get over it. Let her lick her wounds. I’ll lick mine. Everything will be fine.”
Even as he said it, he ached. Having her with him the night before had been so good. It had been right to be together.
Until he’d been slapped in the face with that old feeling of not being the guy people relied on. Which was stupid, he knew. She hadn’t meant it that way. But it hurt nonetheless. He indeed needed to lick his wounds and then once he did, he’d do what he intended to do all along and fix things with her.
* * *
WHEN HE DIDN’T call her that day, or the next, or the day after, she realized she’d made the right choice to go. As much as she hated it.
She’d gotten used to him in her life. He’d filled the spaces she hadn’t noticed were empty.
But now she did. She felt every place Paddy had been in. She’d become so used to texting him and sending him little stories about her day that she had to leave her phone home because she kept picking it up and realizing they were over once more.
Tuesday left little treats on her pillow. A pair of earrings, a pretty new mug for her tea, chocolates, a huge bag of bubble gum.
It got her through. That and a lot of writing in her journal and listening to The National and PJ Harvey while she cried.
Tuesday came home on a Saturday, and she took one look at Natalie and sighed. “You, pack a bag, we’re going to Zoe and Jenny’s for the weekend.”
“Ugh. God, no. You’ll all want to go out and do sporty shit, and it’s cold. Plus, I’ll have to get the pity face all weekend long.”
“Pack a bag, Nats. You’ve wallowed and I’ve allowed it because that’s what you needed. Your week is up. Now you need to get the hell out of this house, brush your hair and do something with people who love you.”
Tuesday gave her a look that told Natalie there would be no peace until she assented.
“And shower first.”
On the drive up, Tuesday refused to let her listen to anything sad. “No. You’re done with that. Look, I don’t necessarily think you have to adopt an it’s totally over mind-set. But you have to figure out how to move forward. Wallowing doesn’t do that. You’re bogged down and depressed.”
“I love him. I wish I could just turn it off. But I can’t.”
“So call him. You said yourself he told you he wasn’t breaking up with you.”
“I know. But he hasn’t even checked in. He shut me out, Tuesday. He punished me for sharing with him. His silence is making clear he’s done.”
“I talked to Ezra.”
“Well, see? That’s a conversation we can have instead of this one.”
Tuesday rolled her eyes. “About you and Paddy, actually. Damien says Paddy is breaking down. He’s drinking hard. He goes back to the hotel every night and holes up in his room.”
“Alone?” Even as she said it, Natalie knew it was a dumb accusation.
“Whatever Paddy’s sins are—and I agree what he said to you was shitty and hurtful, and he needs to grovel and grovel some more to make up for it—I am absolutely convinced cheating isn’t on the list. As are you, so stop. The man is an idiot, yes, but he loves you. Anyway, Damien told Ezra that Paddy has convinced himself you two are just fighting, not broken up.”
“I hate that I’m worried about him. I’m the worst. The. Worst.”
Tuesday made one of her get the f**k outta here snorts of dismissal. “Really? I can think of ten people I actually know right off the top of my head who are way worse than you. Your father. Your grandmother. Your mother. The guy at the post office who called me the N word last year. Just to name four. Why are you the worst?”
“Ugh, post-office bigot! Now I’m mad at him all over again. Jerky McJerkFace ass**le.”
Tuesday laughed. “You’re like a kitten. So easily distracted. Back to the subject and why you think you’re so terrible.”
“I shouldn’t worry about Paddy. And then I think, well, maybe I should have stayed overnight and tried again that next morning to get things resolved. He told me to go, and I just walked away.”
Tuesday heaved a sigh. “You tried to stay. You made a conscious choice not to leave, but to stay. For him. And he used some words... Sometimes you say stuff, and it hurts, but you can move past it. Other stuff? He pulled all those triggers you have. And he should know that.”
“Why is Ezra getting all this from Damien, anyway? He and Paddy are tight.”
“They’re not talking. He said some nasty stuff to Ezra, too. He sees Ezra as taking your side.”
So Paddy didn’t even have Ezra to lean on? “Ezra is a guiding hand. Even from across the country. He’s all alone.”
Paddy had no one and damn it, she was worried about him. If he and Ezra were fighting, Damien would be put in the middle, and she knew from Mary that she was really angry with Paddy.
“I’m f**king fond of Natalie. God. You guys are acting like I did something horrible. It was a fight. She’ll get over it. Let her lick her wounds. I’ll lick mine. Everything will be fine.”
Even as he said it, he ached. Having her with him the night before had been so good. It had been right to be together.
Until he’d been slapped in the face with that old feeling of not being the guy people relied on. Which was stupid, he knew. She hadn’t meant it that way. But it hurt nonetheless. He indeed needed to lick his wounds and then once he did, he’d do what he intended to do all along and fix things with her.
* * *
WHEN HE DIDN’T call her that day, or the next, or the day after, she realized she’d made the right choice to go. As much as she hated it.
She’d gotten used to him in her life. He’d filled the spaces she hadn’t noticed were empty.
But now she did. She felt every place Paddy had been in. She’d become so used to texting him and sending him little stories about her day that she had to leave her phone home because she kept picking it up and realizing they were over once more.
Tuesday left little treats on her pillow. A pair of earrings, a pretty new mug for her tea, chocolates, a huge bag of bubble gum.
It got her through. That and a lot of writing in her journal and listening to The National and PJ Harvey while she cried.
Tuesday came home on a Saturday, and she took one look at Natalie and sighed. “You, pack a bag, we’re going to Zoe and Jenny’s for the weekend.”
“Ugh. God, no. You’ll all want to go out and do sporty shit, and it’s cold. Plus, I’ll have to get the pity face all weekend long.”
“Pack a bag, Nats. You’ve wallowed and I’ve allowed it because that’s what you needed. Your week is up. Now you need to get the hell out of this house, brush your hair and do something with people who love you.”
Tuesday gave her a look that told Natalie there would be no peace until she assented.
“And shower first.”
On the drive up, Tuesday refused to let her listen to anything sad. “No. You’re done with that. Look, I don’t necessarily think you have to adopt an it’s totally over mind-set. But you have to figure out how to move forward. Wallowing doesn’t do that. You’re bogged down and depressed.”
“I love him. I wish I could just turn it off. But I can’t.”
“So call him. You said yourself he told you he wasn’t breaking up with you.”
“I know. But he hasn’t even checked in. He shut me out, Tuesday. He punished me for sharing with him. His silence is making clear he’s done.”
“I talked to Ezra.”
“Well, see? That’s a conversation we can have instead of this one.”
Tuesday rolled her eyes. “About you and Paddy, actually. Damien says Paddy is breaking down. He’s drinking hard. He goes back to the hotel every night and holes up in his room.”
“Alone?” Even as she said it, Natalie knew it was a dumb accusation.
“Whatever Paddy’s sins are—and I agree what he said to you was shitty and hurtful, and he needs to grovel and grovel some more to make up for it—I am absolutely convinced cheating isn’t on the list. As are you, so stop. The man is an idiot, yes, but he loves you. Anyway, Damien told Ezra that Paddy has convinced himself you two are just fighting, not broken up.”
“I hate that I’m worried about him. I’m the worst. The. Worst.”
Tuesday made one of her get the f**k outta here snorts of dismissal. “Really? I can think of ten people I actually know right off the top of my head who are way worse than you. Your father. Your grandmother. Your mother. The guy at the post office who called me the N word last year. Just to name four. Why are you the worst?”
“Ugh, post-office bigot! Now I’m mad at him all over again. Jerky McJerkFace ass**le.”
Tuesday laughed. “You’re like a kitten. So easily distracted. Back to the subject and why you think you’re so terrible.”
“I shouldn’t worry about Paddy. And then I think, well, maybe I should have stayed overnight and tried again that next morning to get things resolved. He told me to go, and I just walked away.”
Tuesday heaved a sigh. “You tried to stay. You made a conscious choice not to leave, but to stay. For him. And he used some words... Sometimes you say stuff, and it hurts, but you can move past it. Other stuff? He pulled all those triggers you have. And he should know that.”
“Why is Ezra getting all this from Damien, anyway? He and Paddy are tight.”
“They’re not talking. He said some nasty stuff to Ezra, too. He sees Ezra as taking your side.”
So Paddy didn’t even have Ezra to lean on? “Ezra is a guiding hand. Even from across the country. He’s all alone.”
Paddy had no one and damn it, she was worried about him. If he and Ezra were fighting, Damien would be put in the middle, and she knew from Mary that she was really angry with Paddy.
