*Calder insists on putting me and Ward up in a hotel for the night. I hate the idea of taking charity from my brother, especially after everything he’s already done today—and judging by Ward’s expression, he feels the same way—but before I can say anything, Lily cuts me off.
“I’d love the chance to get to know you better, Louisa,” she says, smiling.
I remember the last time I talked to her. I was sneaking out of Calder’s apartment in the middle of the night and she tried to stop me. My neck goes hot remembering some of the things I said to her.
But Lily’s obviously trying to play nice, to bridge this gap between us, and honestly, the only thing holding me back is pride. This is my chance to make things right.
I look back up at Ward. His eyes are on me, and he gives me the smallest nod, leaving the decision to me. “Okay,” I say.
Which is how, less than an hour later, Ward and I find ourselves in an enormous room at the Royal Suites Hotel.
After all the motels we’ve seen in the past few weeks, this place is almost like a dream. Everything is so clean that I swear it almost sparkles. The bed is enormous and covered in a fluffy white comforter. I spread my arms and collapse on top of it. I’m exhausted, and I can’t seem to remember the last time I slept.
Ward flops down beside me. We’ve promised to meet Calder and Lily for dinner, but they’ve given us an hour and a half to relax and clean ourselves up.
Which leaves us time for other things, too.
I don’t even have to say anything. Ward yanks me towards him and kisses me. Hard. I moan and open my mouth beneath his as I hook a leg around his hips.
Suddenly he laughs against my lips.
“What?” I ask.
He pulls back his head and grins. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a bed this big. I don’t even know what to do with all of this extra space. Is this how your family normally travels?”
I look around the room. Honestly, at one point this was the norm. But it’s been years since I allowed myself to enjoy luxury like this—even before my father’s death, I was too ashamed to admit that I might want to stay in a place like this.
I must show something of my thoughts in my expression, because Ward’s smile drops a little.
“I’m sorry,” he says gently. “I wasn’t trying to bring up any bad memories.” He brushes his lips against mine. “I just can’t believe I get to share this with you.”
I don’t want to think about the shadows of the past couple of years. He’s right—we’re blessed to be here in each other’s arms.
“I was so worried about you,” he says. “When I saw him handcuffing you, I went crazy. I tried to get back to you, but these cops were yelling at me and I was afraid I was just going to make it worse for you.” He stares down at me. “But if that fucking reporter had been in front of me right then, he’d have a lot worse than a broken nose right now. I was… I was in a bad place. And you were gone.” He brushes my hair back from my face. “At some point I realized that if I wanted to help you, I was going to have to stop acting like a violent idiot.”
“So you found my brother,” I whisper.
“I thought you might be pissed. But at the time, it seemed like the best option. I’d rather you be free and pissed with me than sitting in a holding cell all night. Or worse.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “And I’m not pissed. Not even a little.” And though it’s hard to admit it out loud, it needs to be said. “I shouldn’t have avoided him for so long.”
Ward continues to stroke my hair, and he seems to be lost in thought. Finally he sighs.
“I know how that feels,” he says. “I’m guilty of it, too.”
He doesn’t have to tell me he’s talking about his father. I run my hand down his chest, silently encouraging him.
He gives a bitter laugh. “I think that’s what’s pissing me off so much. You kept telling me to go back. To talk to him. And what did I do?”
“You couldn’t have guessed this would happen,” I say gently.
“Yeah, well the world loves to teach you lessons the hard way.” He rubs the side of his face. “I have no love for the man. I never spent enough time with him to feel any real connection, you know? But that’s not the fucking point. The point is that I had the chance and blew it. After all these years, I finally meet my asshole of a father, and before I can even figure out what the fuck I’m going to do about it, he’s gone.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him.
He slips his fingers through my hair again. “You’ve been nothing but amazing this whole time.” His eyes drift over my face, drinking me in. “You know, if I had the chance to do it all again, I’m still not sure I could have left you. Even knowing what would happen.”
I’m not expecting a confession like that, and I’m sure it shows on my face.
“I mean it,” he says. “I would never have left you on your own. My place is with you. It wasn’t even a choice.”
“It’s always a choice,” I whisper.
“Maybe,” he whispers in return. “And I made it long ago.”
*
The letter arrives the following morning with our breakfast trays.
At first I think it’s a mistake. After all, who the heck even knows we’re at the Royal Suites? But when I see Ward’s name printed on the envelope, I go cold. Is it common knowledge that we’re staying in this hotel? Have the reporters and paparazzi found us? I’d hoped we’d have a few days of peace, at least.
My eyes dart to the return address on the envelope: Thomas, Ridgeton, Thorpe, & Rosenthal.
A law firm. My stomach sinks deeper. Is Ward being sued? Is Asher Julian trying to bring charges against him, too? Why isn’t there a letter for me?
Ward steps out of the bathroom. He’s just had his first shave of the past few weeks, and he smiles as he rubs his newly-smooth cheeks. But he freezes when he sees my expression.
“What is it?”
I hold the letter out to him.
He looks as perplexed as I feel. He frowns as his eyes skim over the envelope.
“What the hell?” he murmurs as he flips it over and tears it open.
I pick up a piece of toast and force myself to munch on the crust, trying to give him some space to read the letter. But I’m not hungry. I want to know what’s going on. I watch Ward’s eyes as he reads. At first, he still looks confused. But as his gaze continues to dance over the letter, his eyebrows slowly rise, as if in surprise.
“What is it?” I ask, fearing the worst.
He looks up at me, and though his eyes are wide, they’re full of wonder, not anxiety.
“He included me,” he says.
I don’t understand. “What do you mean? Who?”
“Edward Carolson. My father. Apparently he included me in his will.” He hands me the letter.
It’s from one of the Carolson family’s lawyers. It doesn’t give many specifics, but it explicitly states that Ward will be involved in the distribution of Edward Carolson’s estate. It closes with a request for a meeting where details might be discussed more openly.
“This is a joke, isn’t it?” Ward says. “This is some sort of sick, twisted revenge for being his secret son.”
“It doesn’t look like a joke,” I say, as I reread the letter for a third time.
“I can’t be in his will.”
“Why not? You’re his son.”
“Not his real son.”
“As real as the other one.” I look up at him. “We’re not exactly living in the nineteenth century or anything. People have kids outside of marriage all the time.”
“You know what I mean.” Ward gives a bitter laugh. “Carolson spent most of my life pretending I didn’t even exist. Why would he put me in his will?”
“The same reason he gave you a job at Huntington Manor.” I put my hand on his arm. “Maybe he had a change of heart. Maybe he wanted to make it up to you.”
“Well, I don’t want anything from that asshole.” Ward jerks away from my grip. “He tried to buy me off before, and it didn’t work then, either. I don’t want his fucking money. I don’t want any of his shit.”
Just a moment ago he seemed so genuinely shocked and pleased by the idea that his father had remembered him in this way. Now, he looks absolutely disgusted. It just goes to show that there are still a lot of complicated things going on in his head.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. The only thing I ever wanted from that bastard was a fucking apology for the way he treated my mom. I don’t care about the rest of his shit. If he wanted to make anything up to me, he should’ve started by treating me like family and not a damn charity project.”
Ward’s shoulders are heaving. He grabs the letter out of my hands, and for a minute I think he’s going to tear it up, but when he looks at me, some of the fight seeps out of his eyes.
“I need to calm down,” he says matter-of-factly. “I think I’m going to go for a walk.”
He’s trying to get himself under control, and I’m not about to stop him. He seems less and less inclined these days to throw his fist at the first thing he sees whenever he gets upset.
“Of course,” I tell him. “Whatever you need.”
He doesn’t say another word to me as he tugs on his jeans over his boxers. He’s already somewhere far away. I want to help him so badly that I hurt, but I know that I need to give him his space. Sometimes we all have things we have to figure out on our own.
And when he does leave, I realize it’s my chance to figure out some things of my own.
*
When I return from the drugstore, I find a note scribbled on the back of the envelope from this morning.
Lawyer said he could squeeze me in during lunch. I’ll be back in an hour or two.
And below that:
I love you. And I’m sorry for being a jackass this morning. I’m working on it.
He also leaves the lawyer’s number in case I need to reach him.
I’ve just finished reading the note when there’s a knock at the door. When I open it, I find my brother standing there.
“Hey,” I say in surprise. We talked about meeting up sometime today, doing a little sightseeing, but he told me he needed to work until at least lunch.
“Can I come in for a few minutes?” he asks.
I nod. “Sure.”
I step aside and let him into the room. Things are still a little awkward between us, but I guess that’s to be expected. You can’t overcome years’ worth of strained relations overnight.
But at least both of us are willing to try.
“Are you by yourself?” he asks, glancing around the sitting room.
“Ward had some stuff to deal with,” I say. “He’ll be back in a little while.”
Calder nods, and he looks like he wants to say something, but he seems to think better of it.
“How are you feeling today?” he asks.
I give a little laugh. “I sat in a jail cell for a few hours. It’s not like I was hurt or anything.”
“Of course.” He runs his hand through his hair, the way he does whenever he’s nervous. I smile at the fact that I remember that. We might not know how to talk to each other, but we’re still brother and sister.
“I’ll pay you back,” I say. “For the bail, I mean. It might take me a few years, but I’ll do it.”
That gets me a smile. “You don’t have to do that. Just try not to get arrested again.”
“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.”
That gets a bigger smile.
“I know I have a lot of things to explain,” I say. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
“Then I’ll begin.” He straightens his back. “I need to apologize. I’m afraid that I didn’t handle things well after our father died.”
I snort. “That makes two of us.”
“I shouldn’t have encouraged you to leave so quickly afterward,” he says. “And I should have made a better effort to stay in contact with you. This isn’t what I wanted.”
I look up at him. “I didn’t want this either.”
“I know we can’t just go back to the way things were when we were kids,” he says, “but I want to make an effort to do better. If you want the same, that is.”
“Of course I do.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That wasn’t the impression I got back at the estate.”
Oh. That’s right. He came to get me, and I took one look at him and ran the other direction.
“Yeah… sorry about that,” I say, embarrassment creeping up my cheeks. “That’s a bit of a long story.”
“One I hope you’ll tell me eventually. From what the internet is saying, it sounds pretty exciting.”
My cheeks grow even hotter. “That’s a very long story.”
“Your friend,” he says. “This Ward fellow. He seems like a good guy.”
“He is,” I say. He’s more than good. He’s the best man I’ve ever known. He makes my heart swell with happiness and my entire body ache with longing. But that’s not exactly the thing you tell your older brother.
Calder is nodding.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he says. “And I look forward to learning more about him.” His eyes—the same color as mine—soften slightly.
“I was worried about you,” he tells me. “I didn’t know what had happened or where you were going or what you would do. I’ve been looking for you since that day you ran, but unless you’ve got FBI-level clearance, it’s next to impossible to track someone down.”
“You were looking for me?”
“What was I supposed to do? Sit around and pray that you weren’t in a ditch somewhere? Edward Carolson was making all these ridiculous claims and the media was getting involved and no one could figure out where you were. I assumed you were alone, and for all I knew you were hurt or in trouble or locked up somewhere.”
“Well, you were right about that last one,” I say. It’s strange to hear Calder talk like this. I mean, we’re family, so of course we love each other, but I’ve never seen him look so worried in all my life.
“I guess it worked out then,” I say. “Us both being out in California at the same time, I mean.”
“That wasn’t an accident,” Calder replies. “For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out where you’d gone. I even hired a couple of private investigators, but either they were idiots or you were very good at hiding your tracks.”
“Probably the former,” I admit.
“But then I saw the magazines and realized that you weren’t alone, as I originally thought. I looked for any information I could find on this Ward guy. And when the family invited me to the memorial service for Edward Carolson, I realized that if I were in Ward’s position, that’s exactly where I’d go. It was a long shot, I knew, but it was the only lead I had.”
Hearing about how hard he looked for me makes me want to cry. In fact, if I say anything I’m going to start bawling, so instead of trying to speak I just step forward and put my arms around his.
This hug already feels more natural than yesterday’s. It looks like there’s hope for us after all. But a second later, his back stiffens slightly.
“What?” I ask, pulling back.
“Nothing,” he says, but not before I catch him looking at something past my shoulder. I turn around. My bag from the drugstore is on the table behind me.
And the pregnancy test is clearly visible.
“It’s…” I stop and shake my head. “Look, I don’t want you to freak out or anything—”
“I’m not going to freak out. I’m not going to say anything at all.” He looks at me. “Except this—you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions. I have to accept that. But if I find out that this Ward isn’t doing the right thing by you—”
“You don’t have to go all ‘older brother’ on me, I promise. Ward will do the right thing.”
“He better.”
On the one hand, it’s nice to have a brother who cares enough to make threats in situations like this. On the other, I’m not really ready to have a lengthy discussion about this with Calder. If my brother and I are going to start to rebuild our relationship, I’d rather not start with, ‘Oh yeah, I had unprotected sex.’
Fortunately, Calder seems to feel the same way.
“I should be getting back to my room,” he says. “But if you need anything, you know where to find me.”
I walk him to the door, and on the threshold, he turns toward me one last time.
“I’m glad we talked,” he says.
“Me, too.”
“I hope this becomes more of a regular thing between us.”
I smile. “I’d like that.”
*
I read the instructions on the pregnancy test multiple times. I want to get this right the first time, since one way or another, the results will affect the rest of my life.
I nearly have the steps memorized by the time I finally pull the test out of the package and sit down on the toilet. My hands shake slightly.
I’m being silly, aren’t I? I think at mini-Ward. I know you’re there. This is just a formality.
But that’s what scares me: maybe he isn’t. I’ve built this up so much in my head that I know it’ll devastate me if the test comes back negative. I might not be ready for a baby, but it’s too late—I’ve already lost my heart to the little guy I believe is growing inside of me.
After I’m done peeing, I place the test on the bathroom counter and stare at it. The box says it will take three minutes to see the results. Three minutes feels like an entire lifetime.
About one minute and thirty two seconds in—I know because I’m counting—Ward returns.
“Lou?” he calls.
“I’m here.” Almost a full minute left. I leave the test on the counter and return to the main room of our suite.
Ward looks a little more tired than usual, but there’s a huge grin on his face as he sweeps me up in his arms.
“You’re in a good mood,” I say when he finally puts me back down on my feet. “What happened?” I wasn’t expecting him to be so upbeat, not after his reaction to the letter this morning.
“You’re never going to believe it, Lou,” he says.
“Believe what?”
In response, he grabs me and kisses me. For a moment I melt into the kiss, but then I break away and pull back.
“That’s not an answer,” I say. “What’s going on? What did the lawyer say?”
“It’s a long story—and a complicated one—but ultimately good, I think.”
Relief floods through me. I was afraid he’d return to me more frustrated and confused than ever. But I can see, even by the way he’s looking at me now, that something’s changed. Maybe he hasn’t resolved all of his feelings, but he’s found some closure, however small.
“I want to hear everything,” I tell him.
His eyes flash and he smiles. “It’s going to blow your mind. Actually, we should probably be sitting down for this.” He takes my hands and leads me over to the couch.
“I actually need to run to the bathroom first,” he says. “But I’ve brought us some scotch to celebrate. Why don’t you pour us a couple of glasses?”
I have no idea what we’re supposed to be celebrating, but I agree anyway. Ward slips off to the bathroom and I grab a couple of glasses from where they sit on the buffet cabinet. It’s not until I’m pouring the second glass that I remember I probably shouldn’t be drinking.
It’s also the moment I remember what I left in the bathroom.
I spin around, but Ward is already next to me.
“Is this yours?” he asks, although I’m pretty sure he already knows the answer to that. He’s holding the end of the test between his thumb and forefingers.
“It’s mine,” I say.
He stares at me. Into me. And I can’t read his face, not even a little bit. Is he angry? Upset? Annoyed?
I don’t even know what the test says.
“What…” I begin, but my throat closes off. I force myself to take a deep breath and start again. “What does it say?”
“Two lines,” he says without looking down at the test.
Two lines. That means…
“Pregnant,” I say, and the word is no more than a breath.
“Pregnant,” he repeats, his face still blank. “You’re pregnant.”
“We’re pregnant.”
There’s a spark of something in his eyes. “We’re pregnant.”
And then he pulls me into his arms again. I let him back me toward the sofa and help me sink down onto the cushions. He sits next to me.
“This isn’t a joke?” he says.
“If this was a joke, it’d be the worst joke in the history of mankind.” I search his face. “You’re not upset? Because you were so worried about not using a condom and—”
“I’m not going to lie, it’s not what I expected to hear when I got back.” He pushes my hair back over my shoulder. “It’s… big news. Life-changing news.” He threads his fingers through my curls. “How are you doing? Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine. Great, actually. But I’ve had a little time to let the idea sink in.”
His brow furrows. “A while? How long have you suspected?”
“A few days, that’s all. My period was late.”
“Why didn’t you tell me then?”
I take his hand in mine. “Because that was the day we found out that Carolson was dead.”
He just stares at me.
“So yesterday, when you were in jail—”
“I didn’t know for sure,” I tell him. “I just knew that my period was late. And I didn’t want to say anything until I was absolutely certain. There was a lot going on already.”
“You were afraid I couldn’t deal with it,” he says. “You were afraid I wouldn’t react well to the news.”
“That’s not—”
“It’s my own fault. I made it sound like I thought this was the worst thing that could happen to us. I was so caught up in this shit about my father—”
“You’re not your father. I know that. I’ve known that all along.” I make sure he’s looking me in the eyes before I go on. “I know you’d never abandon this child. But I need you to know that I never, ever want you to feel tied to me or—”
“Tied to you? Lou, I’ve been tied to you since the first time I saw you. Since the first time you grabbed me and kissed me.” He slides his thumb across my cheek. “Baby or not. I’m yours. I belong to you and you belong to me.”
My heart is fluttering so quickly that I’m afraid I might collapse.
“And though it absolutely terrifies me,” he continues, “the thought of having a baby with you is… I can’t even describe it. Knowing that a part of me is inside of you right now… It’s…” His hand moves across my belly, and he presses his palm gently against me.
I laugh and sob at the same time. He kisses me again, and I melt into him.
This is it, I realize. This is what it feels like to be absolutely, perfectly, completely happy.
But even in my ecstasy, I remember what he said earlier. I pull back from him.
“You told me you have a story,” I say.
He gives a laugh and steps back. “Jesus, I almost forgot. I don’t even know where to begin now.”
“We have time for all of it,” I tell him as I wipe a tear off of my cheek. “You better not leave anything out.”
“And you better sit down.”
I bat at him. “I’m pregnant, not sick. I can still stand.”
“No, no. I mean—fuck, you really should sit down.”
I laugh again, but I let him lead me to the couch.
“So what exactly is going on?” I prompt.
“The meeting was… interesting,” he says. “I ran into some of the family while I was there. As you can imagine, they weren’t exactly happy to see me. No one was openly rude or anything. Just a little cold.”
He takes my hand.
“Carolson had a lot of stuff,” he says. “But I’m sure you know that. I guess that in the bigger picture, I only ended up with a small share of what he owned. Most of it went to his wife and kids, I’m sure.”
I don’t bother to remind him that he is one of Edward Carolson’s kids as well.
He leans forward and takes both of my hands.
“Lou,” he says, “he left me Huntington Manor.”
I think I black out for a minute. Did he say Huntington Manor?
“Louisa, are you—”
“The estate. He left you the estate.”
Ward nods. “It’s mine. Or, at least it will be. There’s a shit-ton of paperwork and it’ll probably take a few months to—”
“He left you the estate.” I can’t seem to make it sink in. “So you’re going to run it now?”
“Hell, no,” he says. “I don’t know anything about running a hotel. And I’m not sure I want to. But the project’s already considered a failure. It’s bleeding money. Half of the investors are gone. I’m thinking it would be better to just shut down the whole thing.”
“And do what? Sell it again?”
“Or live there.”
Okay, now I’m definitely about to freak out.
“There are still a lot of details to get sorted out,” he says. “But the lawyer explained that most of the debts surrounding the project would be paid out of Carolson’s estate before the property even passed to me. And I might have to sell some of the surrounding land, or, I don’t know, sell off the fucking crafts cottages or something, but I’m going to figure this out. But if I do, do you want it? Will you live there with me?”
When Ward sat me down on this couch, this was the last place I expected this conversation would go. I was hoping he’d tell me he’d gotten some closure. Maybe some money. But for him to get my old home back? And invite me to live there?
“It’s yours,” he says, catching me beneath the chin. “If you want it. I’m not sure where you’re planning to stay after this, but I wanted to offer you at least one possibility. Besides, we’re going to need extra room when the baby arrives.”
“That’s a lot of extra room.”
“Then we’ll sell it and buy a cute little house with a picket fence. Or an apartment in Europe somewhere. We’ll go wherever you want.”
“Wherever?” I tease. “Even Saturn?”
He grins. “If you want.”
I remember the words we said to each other that night on the beach, the words that kicked off this little adventure in the first place: Everywhere. Every way. I want it all. I want to experience everything with him.
And honestly, I’d be happy living anywhere. But the idea of having my family’s estate back, if only for a little while, fills me with joy.
“There are a lot of places in that hedge maze we haven’t explored yet,” I tell him as I lean into his embrace. “And a lot of secret passageways I bet you never found.”
“As long as you’re there with me, I’m not afraid of getting lost.”
I kiss him, and in that kiss is everything we’ve suffered and everything we’ve shared. Ward’s given me everything I could ever possibly need. He might have started out as a distraction, but he became my friend, my lover, and the only one who saw my deepest emotions. He gave me adventure. He gave me hope. He gave me love.
I’ve spent my life trying to figure out who I am. Where I belong. And here in his arms, I have the feeling that I’ve finally found it.
*