8
Barrett
Iwoke up with an aching feeling in my chest. It wasn’t Lorde splayed out with her vanilla-scented body wash and her hair across my bare chest, but rather the three little words that I couldn’t say back to her—I love you. For the life of me, I couldn’t get the words past my lips.
It wasn’t because I didn’t love her. I’d fallen for her so deeply it scared me like a crushing weight. I’d never felt this way before—mainly because no one had ever made me feel anything before Lourde came along. I was a one-night guy, and commitment wasn’t in the realm of possibility. But with Lourde, all my walls came down. I didn’t have a choice. The more I fought it, the more I couldn’t be apart from her. Like a drug, I craved her, and without her, I was wandering around with my head in the sand.
I loved her so fucking much it hurt, but I just couldn’t voice the words. Lourde deserved the world. I thought I could push away the guilt of my mom, but it still lingered like the metallic taste of blood on my tongue. Less so than before, but it was still there. She knew there was a secret buried and I wasn’t giving her my all.
Still, she’d said, “I love you.” The woman was remarkable, and here I was, fearing the worst. And at any moment, it could crash down and burn to hell. Just like Mom was taken from me, ripped away when I couldn’t wrestle the gun from Dad’s grip. Just like my sister, Evelyn, with her permanent gunshot injury to the thigh.
Lourde was perfect, but I feared I wasn’t enough for her. She deserved more. One day she’d realize that. Then, as soon as she knew about my darkness, she’d run.
Who’d want to be with a monster like me?
The hole in my chest ached, and as though sensing my pain, she groaned, her hand rising to settle on my chest. Planting a kiss on her lips, I slid away quietly, sitting upright and shuffling out of bed.
I put on my gray sweats and headed out of the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind me.
* * *
With urgent emails now complete, the growls of an empty stomach superseded the dull ache in my chest. I wasn’t the world’s best cook, but I wanted to make Lourde breakfast. I’d learned a thing or two about meal preparation, and when I left Boston for Manhattan to work in property development, I learned the basics of cooking after very long days.
I opened the double Liebherr refrigerator doors, casting my eyes over the stocked shelves my housekeeper always kept full. Picking up Lourde’s favorite yogurt then the fresh blueberries and strawberries and a bottle of Canadian maple syrup, I scanned the pantry shelf with neatly labeled clear containers and located the oats.
How hard could it be to toast oats in a pan? If I could build a tower with half a billion, I could sure as fuck toast some oats.
Halving the strawberries, I threw them on top of the yogurt, then added a few blueberries on top for decoration. Now the oats. I poured them into the nonstick pan with a chunk of butter because heck, it was Saturday.
Shit, I hadn’t called Evelyn. Typically, we’d try to talk every week on Saturday, but it was becoming less frequent these last few weeks.
I put the pan on the stove, slid my phone out of my pocket, and went to my favorites. A ring later and she was there.
“Barrett!”
“Hey, sis. Sorry I didn’t call earlier. It’s been crazy.”
“When is it not crazy? I’ve been hearing about the fire, then the crane accident?”
“It’s been hectic.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.
“Actually, I’m fine. I couldn’t be better apart from the work pressure.”
“You sound different.”
I smiled. “I’m with Lourde.”
“What? Are you guys together now? Is she your girlfriend? The last conversation we had, you said you had a thing, but she was off to meet her future husband at some dinner.”
“Okay, calm down, take a breath!” I laughed, but it was cute to see my sister excited for me. “Yes, she’s my girlfriend. Fuck, well, I’ve never said that before.”
“Ahh!” she screamed down the line so loud, I had to pull the phone away from my ear for a second.
“Evelyn, chill. God, you’d think you were sixteen again!”
“Wait, does Connor know?”
“No. I want to tell him, but Lourde is holding off. Connor’s busy preparing for Alfred’s retirement at Diamond Incorporated so she thinks the timing is off.”
“Uh.”
“Uh, what?”
“I’m so happy for you, brother, but I think the longer you leave it, the worse the outcome.”
“I know. Maybe I’ll convince her to tell him tonight. Lourde is having a housewarming, and he’ll be there. But to be honest, I’m not sure if I can handle an irate Connor at the moment with everything else on my plate.”
“What do you think he’d do?”