Some Like It Hopeless (A Temporary Engagement) Read online

  He wrapped her up tight in her blankets, pulled a chair in next to the bed, and read the celebrity gossip to her.

  She didn’t sleep, just lay there, her eyes open and dead.

  Shane had thought, when he’d heard Brady stutter that he’d hurt her, that perhaps their sex play had gotten a little too rough.

  Completely understandable if you asked him. Considering.

  He’d thought he’d find Brady looking embarrassed, and Cass alternating between laughing and groaning.

  He hadn’t expected to find her destroyed. Destroyed with words. Destroyed with the truth.

  The truth. Oh, the truth.

  He didn’t know what truth had knocked his Cassandra to the ground, wasn’t sure what truth could knock her out.

  She’d tell him when she was ready.

  And until then, he would sit by her side.

  And think about how the truth could only destroy when it came from someone you loved.

  Shane took a few days off from work, and when she wasn’t better, still wasn’t talking, not even smiling at the celebrity feud article he’d read to her, he called for reinforcements.

  Tom and Kenny came. Watched over her during the day, pampering and fussing over her.

  Kenny brushed her hair and painted her fingernails, chatting non-stop. Tom forced more soup down her throat, alternating between concerned friend and gruff uncle.

  And at night, Shane slept next to her, holding her hand.

  Christian took over evening duty when he came one night to check on Shane, recoiling in shock when Shane answered the door with a scruffy beard and week old pajamas.

  Shane covered his face. “Don’t look at me. I’m hideous.”

  Christian pulled Shane’s hands down. “You look like you’ve been worried sick.”

  “She just lies there.”

  “And you haven’t slept in how long?”

  He couldn’t remember. He slept in fits, afraid that she’d finally want to talk and he’d be zoned out.

  Christian said, “I’ll sit with her tonight. Go sleep. Take a shower. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  Shane almost started crying. Nearly dropped his head on Christian’s shoulder and just cried. From the exhaustion, from the worry, from not being alone.

  Christian was still holding one of Shane’s hands, and he tugged him toward the door.

  Shane hesitated. “Call me if she wakes up?”

  Christian nodded and Shane pulled away.

  “Just let me tell her you’re here.”

  Christian followed him into the bedroom, sitting in the chair next to the bed and studying her carefully.

  Worry and shock crossed Christian’s face, and Shane wondered if he’d have to call someone soon.

  Who did you call when someone broke?

  Shane squeezed her hand and said quietly, “Christian is going to stay with you tonight.”

  She didn’t blink. No spark of life at Christian’s name. No refusal pushed past her lips.

  She didn’t care, and Shane worried even more. Wondered if he needed to chase Brady down and tie him up and torture whatever truth out of him.

  Christian said, “Go home, Shane. We’re okay.”

  He looked between Cassandra and Christian. And nodded. Christian would take care of her.

  Christian listened to her breathe. So quiet in her little room.

  He looked at the celebrity magazines littering the floor near her bed, and said, “I don’t think so.”

  He pulled out his phone, bringing up his blog feeds. “Let’s see. Ooh, Peter Mayhew had to cancel convention appearances? For filming Episode VII maybe?”

  He glanced at Cassandra, then back down at his phone. “You’d know him as Chewbacca, of course. And you’re really worrying Shane. He looks like. . . He looks like hell. I’m sorry, but there’s no other word for it.”

  Her foot moved, pulling at the blankets, and Christian held his breath.

  He said, “I’m sorry, Cassandra. Whatever happened between you and Brady, I’m just so sorry.”

  The blankets moved again, and when he looked at her face, her eyes were closed.

  He put away his phone. “Oh, look. The release date for D&D Next was just leaked. July 15th. I’m sorry to be excited about that when you’re. . .like this.”

  Her eyes opened and Christian leaned forward in his chair. “Sorry. So sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Her lips opened and she croaked, “Christian.”

  “Yes?”

  “Go away.”

  He smiled. “Sorry. Can’t. I told Shane I’d stay and watch you for him. So sorry.”

  Her hand hit the bed and Christian leaned back in his chair.

  He watched her blink, listened to her breath speed up, then slow down.

  “I’m sor–”

  “Stop apologizing!”

  “–ry about whatever happened between you and Brady. But you are hurting Shane, and I. . . I love him.”

  She sucked in a breath, closing her eyes and saying without any heat, without any rancor, “I hate you so much.”

  “Maybe. I know you don’t like me but I try not to take it personally. Because I feel bad for you. I’d feel bad for anyone who had to watch the man she loved fall in love with someone else.”

  “You–” She choked and coughed, pushing herself up in the bed. “You feel bad for me? You feel bad for me?”

  He could see the rage building in her eyes, thought he might be really stupid to keep egging her on. But he knew she hadn’t spoken in a week. And screams were better than silence.

  Oh, how he hated silence.

  He was pretty sure even Cassandra would agree with him about that.

  Christian whispered, “I pity you, Cassandra.”

  Her anger pushed her out of bed, pushing her onto weak and wobbly legs. “You pity me?! YOU PITY. ME!”

  “I’m sorr–”

  She screamed, wordlessly, and launched herself at him. Hitting and scratching and screeching. Christian huddled in his seat, protecting his head with his arms.

  And sat there. Let her scream at him, her hot tears splashing onto his arms and face. His ears ringing from her screams, his arms stinging from the slaps. He was glad that she’d been an invalid for the last few days, knowing it would have hurt far worse if her strength had been up.

  She didn’t last long and she fell to the floor, still screaming, and then the screams turning to great gulping sobs.

  She cried and cried.

  And Christian wished she was still hitting him.

  He slid from his seat to huddle on the floor next to her. And he said over her cries, “You have people who love you, Cassandra. People who would do anything for you. You’re not alone. You’ve never been alone, not once in the last week. I don’t pity you, I envy you. I envy all the love you take for granted.”

  And she said, “What is love? What is love when all it does is hurt? When you can’t have what you want. When you can’t have children to shower with that love.”

  Christian’s heart thumped. “Brady? He won’t have any more children?”

  She choked, “He can’t. Even if he wanted, he couldn’t.”

  She held one hand up, snipping the air with her fingers, and Christian understood the crass gesture.

  He took a deep breath, trying not to let the tears prickle his eyes.

  But he understood. No children. No children, when family was all you wanted.

  She lifted her head, saw the tears pooling in his eyes. “You know that want. To have someone who is all yours. To have a future. It’s the fairy tale. Love and kids, and a happily ever after.”

  He nodded. He knew that want. Knew not everyone could have it.

  “Love isn’t only about children. It’s about sharing. Sharing the good, sharing the bad. It’s about not being alone.”

  She started laughing, looking around the room. “I love two men, and I’m still here alone.”

  “No. Not here alone. I’m here proxy for Shane. Becau
se I love him and he loves you.”

  She looked at him and said softly, “You didn’t stutter that time.”

  He hadn’t. She’d already attacked him for saying it and he’d survived.

  She looked at his arms, red from her blows, and didn’t meet his eyes when she choked out, “I hurt you.”

  He didn’t answer, until she looked up. “I forgive you.”

  She crumpled then, lying back down on the carpet. Facing away from him and sniffling. “Shane won’t forgive me. And Brady would have protected you.”

  Christian leaned back against the chair, stretching out his legs. She jerked when his legs touched her back. He wasn’t too comfortable with it, either, but he stayed there. Stayed until she relaxed against him, her back pressing warmly against his cargo pants.

  He stroked her hair, softly. Haltingly. “Shane will forgive you; I provoked you. For your own good.”

  She sniffed again and Christian said, “And Brady wasn’t protecting me. He doesn’t love me.”

  Her back jerked with her laughter. And when the laughs turned back to tears, Christian said gently, “I think I know what it looks like when someone loves who they don’t want to. When someone loves when they think they shouldn’t.”

  “You would.”

  He almost laughed. Because she was almost funny.

  He said, “If you could have all you want with someone else, would you give up Shane?”

  “No.”

  He smiled. No hesitation.

  “If you could have all you want with someone else, would you give up Brady?”

  She didn’t answer. And Christian smiled again, because she wasn’t hesitating. She didn’t answer because she didn’t want to say it.

  Christian said, “I think I know what it looks like when someone loves with all their heart. When someone loves, no matter what.”

  “It’s not all my heart. It’s half my heart.”

  “I don’t think so. My parents have five children and they don’t love each of us with one-fifth of their heart. They love with all their heart. They love each of us with their outrageously oversized heart.”

  She laughed. “And you think somehow I’ve got one of these oversized hearts?”

  “I think you have the biggest, strongest heart I’ve ever seen. I think you have a heart that won’t break. When it’s bruised and raw and bleeding, it still loves. I think you have a heart that needs two people to watch over it because one is just not enough.”

  She turned her head toward him. “I might have to stop hating you if you keep saying things like that.”

  “Sorry. I’ll stop.”

  She blinked, and the smile was slow in coming but she finally closed her eyes, shaking her head. Smiling.

  She sighed, “Christian.”

  She lay there, her eyes closed, still smiling. Christian leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, and wondered if sometimes family could come in different flavors. If maybe family could come in circles, connecting one to another.

  He and Cassandra weren’t in the same circle, but they were connected. Maybe, almost, family.

  And he decided he’d keep that thought to himself.

  She opened her eyes to look at him, at his arms folded across his chest, and she touched the marks she’d made on his skin lightly. “I’m sorry, Christian. I won’t. Again.”

  He chuckled and she sat up.

  “On all that I hold holy, I won’t hit you again.”

  He couldn’t help his expression. “What do you hold holy?”

  “Shane. My love for him. If I ever hit you again, I’ll give him up.”

  He knew a vow when he heard one, and he nodded. “Okay.”

  She nodded back.

  Then, “Smacks don’t count.”

  “I never thought they would.”

  Eleven

  When Shane called to check on Cassandra in the morning, she was the one who answered. And he screamed, “You’re talking! Why didn’t Christian call me!”

  “He said, and I quote, that you looked like hell. So we let you sleep.”

  He skipped work again and drove like a maniac to her house, and she was showered and dressed, and she smiled at him when he burst through the door. And Shane hugged her, crying onto her shoulder.

  “Cass! Don’t do that to me! Ever again!”

  She whispered, “Thank you, Shane. For taking care of me. For loving me.”

  He squeezed her, feeling bones she did not have before, and pushed her away. “Did you eat? Christian! Has she eaten?”

  Tom and Kenny showed up for their shift, crying out when they saw her among the living and passing her between them until she was black and blue from hugs.

  She exchanged a look with Christian and said, “You were right. I’m universally loved.”

  Christian nodded, and everyone else in the room froze.

  Kenny put a hand to his chest. “Oh, my God. She’s had a near-death experience.”

  She shook her head. “I was thinking.”

  “Don’t do that!”

  “Okay. I’m pretty sure I’m done thinking for the rest of my life.”

  Shane let out a breath. “Okay. Good.”

  He didn’t leave for a few more days. Just in case. But he slept, still next to her in bed, still holding her hand. And he showered and shaved, and they were all grateful for it.

  Christian came by every night after work for dinner, and while Shane wouldn’t say it out loud again, he thought Kenny might have been right. She’d had a near-death experience.

  Because she smiled at Christian and laughed at him.

  And when he apologized, she smacked his arm lightly and said his name like she was talking to a naughty puppy. And then they’d grin at each other. At some inside joke.

  Made Shane almost want to cross himself.

  He took her to work and back, to the grocery store to stock up. Not wanting her to drive, not wanting her to be alone. Not yet.

  They stood in front of the drinks, trying to decide what Christian would want without calling him up. Because he was making his shrimp tonight and they didn’t want to disturb his preparations.

  Cassandra said, “Margaritas?”

  “He doesn’t drink.”

  “Neither does Brady.”

  They grimaced at each other, then sighed.

  Shane said, “What do people drink if they don’t drink?”

  “Root beer?”

  “It’s like I’m five years old again.”

  “What about Coke?”

  Shane hung his head. “I don’t even know if he drinks Coke. Seriously.”

  Cassandra grabbed for a bottle. “Root beer it is.”

  “What we do for love.”

  Cassandra slid her hand through his arm. “What we do for love.”

  And then they both stopped, in the middle of the aisle, with root beer in the cart.

  Shane said softly, “I like him.”

  “No veto?”

  He shook his head.

  “Do you think it’s possible to love two people?”

  He looked at her then. “Yes. I know it is.”

  “I told him I loved him.”

  “Mm. I was privy to the aftermath.”

  Cassandra shook her head. Took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect him to say it back. I just thought it should be out, in the open. Plus, I had to think about it.”

  Shane muttered, cursing at her to never do that again, and she said, “He can’t have children. Vasectomy.” She forced it out through a tight throat, refusing to cry in a grocery store aisle.

  “Oh, Cass. What god hates you?”

  “Right?” She shook her head. “He was probably thinking, ‘Nope, only need one of those. Make sure she doesn’t breed.’”

  Shane wasn’t sure if her tears were what started first or if it was the laughter.

  She looked up, at the industrial ceiling of a suburban supermarket, and raised her fist. Shook it at a God neither one of them was sure existed, and cried
and laughed.

  Shane wrapped his arms tight around her. Cried with her, and wondered if this was the reason for their love. The reason she needed lots of parts of hearts– to prop her up when she wasn’t strong enough on her own.

  To cling to Shane when loving Brady hurt, to be snug in Brady’s arms when Shane’s love wounded.

  And to have Christian on standby when both of them failed.

  Shane said, “Maybe Brady won’t love you back.”

  “It would be easier, wouldn’t it? Easier if you hadn’t loved me back and we could go our separate ways. Easier if Brady wouldn’t love me back and I didn’t have to be constantly reminded that I had his heart, just not all of it. Go find someone else who could give me everything I wanted.”

  Shane nodded because it would be easier and she said, “Yeah, I’m just not that lucky.”

  He sighed. “And you say that with a straight face. I’ve seen him au naturel.”

  She laughed and squeezed and pushed him away. “Yes. There are some side benefits.”

  “It does lean to the side, doesn’t it? I thought I noticed that.”

  She wiped her eyes. “You’re not going to be even a little bit jealous? You’ll make me feel bad at how I treated Christian.”

  “Oh, I am going to be the cattiest, jealous queen you ever did see. Every fight, I’m on your side. He leaves his underwear on the floor? What a bastard.”

  “Ditto could be said about you and Christian.”

  “I know.”

  Cassandra started walking again. “We’ve got a strange kind of menage a fourth going on.”

  “Ménage à quatre? Kinky. I like it.”

  “With root beer.”

  “Ugh. Ruin it, why don’t you? No kink goes on when it’s root beer flowing freely.”

  She looked into the cart and nodded. Absolutely zero kink.

  Shane glanced at her. “You going to call him?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. He hasn’t called me.”

  Shane bit his tongue.

  “Maybe I’ll call him.”

  He nodded. “I mean, you just have to. If only for the side benefit.”

  The shrimp was delicious. Christian had grilled mushrooms with it this time, and Shane had thought he would die it was so good.

  They’d eaten outside, the setting sun their entertainment, and then Cassandra had taken the leftovers inside, saying she needed to be alone with it. And to not follow her for a few minutes.