Read Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2) Online
Authors: J. L. Berg
“We should have food in about thirty minutes,” I said, turning to sit on the bed opposite from my mom.
She looked at me with soulful eyes, tears leaking out of the corners.
“You’re getting married today,” she gushed. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“You’re crying on me already?” I said, springing from the edge to cross the wide gap separating us.
I sat down beside her, and she gathered me in her arms. It didn’t seem to matter how old I’d gotten. Nothing beat the feel of my mother’s embrace.
“All those years we spent in the hospital—when I sat beside your bed and watched you recover from one surgery after another with nothing but the same bleak future for you to look forward to—I hoped and prayed that a day like this would come. No one in this world deserves happiness more than you, my angel. No one.”
Wetness trickled down my cheeks as her words seeped into my heart, etching themselves into my very soul.
“I love you, Mom.”
“Oh, baby, I love you, too—so very much.”
“Did you know that many brides find it difficult to eat on their wedding day?” Grace asked from across the room as she pushed a black olive around on her plate. Her hair was up in large barrel curlers, and she sat cross-legged on the freshly made bed.
I smirked, trying to remain perfectly still, as the gorgeous brunette behind me continued to tug and pull at my long mane, promising to turn it into bridal perfection.
“Well, that’s just plain ridiculous,” I replied, carefully bringing a slivered strawberry up to my mouth from the plate sitting on my lap.
Grace laughed, setting her plate down beside her. We’d basically done nothing but eat and lounge around the hotel room for hours. When she’d said we had nothing to do, she’d meant it. There was absolutely no reason any of us had had to wake up at the crack of dawn this morning. The wedding ceremony wasn’t being held until six in the evening, which meant that today was going to drag on endlessly.
And it certainly was already.
My eyes darted over to the alarm clock, and once again, I sighed.
“Sweetheart, just relax. The day will be nothing but a memory before you know it. Try to enjoy every second,” my mom reminded me.
I smiled and let my shoulders relax. “I’m trying. I just can’t wait to see him standing at the end of that aisle.”
A knock sounded at the door, interrupting our conversation, and Grace suddenly jumped up to answer it.
“Password.” She giggled.
“It’s me,” a male voice said from the other side.
“I don’t know any
me.
You need to be more specific!” she joked.
“Grace, I’ll tell everyone I see tonight the real name that appears on your birth certificate. Don’t make me do it!” Brian’s voice came through loud and clear.
“You wouldn’t!” she squeaked.
“Oh, I would, babe.”
“That’s just evil!”
“Your name isn’t Grace?” I asked, suddenly intrigued.
“Yes, it is! Well, it’s my middle name. Never mind!” she scoffed, opening the door to let her sneaky husband in. “You have my son. You should have just said that from the beginning,” she cooed, holding open her arms to take a babbling Zander.
“And miss all that? Never.” He grinned. His hand snaked around her waist, gripping the fuzzy fabric of her robe, and he placed a tender kiss on her cheek.
Zander watched the exchange between his parents with interest as his tiny fingers pressed against their faces.
“So, what brings you here, handsome?” she asked, stepping away to sit down on the nearest bed with her new adorable little bundle.
“I was charged with a task, and I’ve come to deliver it.”
I looked at him and shook my head. “Oh, no. Please tell me he didn’t.”
“I don’t know what the question is, so I can’t answer that.”
“Did he get me something?”
Brian’s wide grin was answer enough.
“He’s incredible.” I sighed.
“Did you really expect anything less from Jude?” my mother asked.
“No. That’s why I gave Dad a gift to hand over to Jude today as well.” I smiled, slightly shrugging my shoulders up before remembering I wasn’t supposed to be moving.
The stylist was so good that I’d almost forgotten she was there.
“I was told to deliver this,” Brian said, pulling a small box out of his pocket and stepping forward to place it in my small hand, “before your makeup was done.”
A small laugh escaped my throat. “That man thinks of everything.”
“I’ll leave you ladies to your primping.” He turned to his wife and child. “Come on, son. Let’s give Mommy a few more hours of pampering.”
Zander reached out for his daddy and gave us a wave with his chunky baby hand, and then soon, both were gone.
“So, are you going to open it?” Grace asked eagerly.
She and my mother were staring at me. I glanced up to see that even my stylist had stopped to see what might be hidden beneath the ornate silver wrapping.
With shaky fingers, I slowly lifted the red bow and pulled off the paper. When I opened the box, a gasp escaped my lungs at the same moment tears stung my eyes. I was so glad I didn’t have makeup on. It would have been ruined for sure.
A stunning silver heart locket was resting in the velvet box. But it wasn’t just any heart locket you’d find anywhere. The heart was made of two interlocking angel wings. The wings opened, and nestled inside was a folded piece of paper with Jude’s angular handwriting.
My angel, my Lailah, my love.
“Oh God, I love this man,” I choked out.
The room was silent, and as I looked up, I found three women with tears to match my own.
“Please tell me he has a brother,” my stylist said between sobs.
I laughed. “He does, but my Jude is one of a kind.”
And today, that one-of-a kind man would become mine forever.
A QUIET KNOCK echoed through the apartment, and Marcus didn’t waste any time in jumping off the couch to answer the door. Seconds later, Brian appeared, following closely behind Marcus.
Brian’s eyes met mine, and he slowed slightly. “Still pacing the floors, I see,” he said as he adjusted a fussy Zander on his hip.
I ignored his comment and kept with my current plan of wearing a hole in the hardwood before the end of the day.
“You should have planned a morning wedding. Lailah’s a mess as well.”
My eyes darted up to Brian’s, remembering the errand I’d sent him on. “How is she? Is she okay?”
He smiled smugly. “Well, she wasn’t dressed when I saw her . . .”
My eyes widened as I took a wide step forward, intent on grabbing Brian’s neck, but then I stopped myself when I saw his innocent child between us.
His free hand went up like a white flag. “Kidding. Mostly. Shit, Jude. Relax. I’m just messing with you. She was in a robe, and she was getting her hair done. It’s too bad you don’t drink, man, ’cause you could use a little something for those nerves right now.”
My hands went through my hair, and I took a step back, falling into the oversized chair positioned by the large windows overlooking the city. “It’s not nerves. I’m just sick of waiting. I’ve been up since the crack of dawn. I just want to see her already.”
“I get it, Jude,” Marcus chimed it. “I waited over twenty years to finally marry the love of my life. The morning of, I was a nervous wreck.”
“We should have eloped.” I sighed.
“And left me to deal with Molly when she found out? You would have done that to me? After everything I’ve done?”
A small chuckle escaped my throat. “No, I guess not. But damn, if you could make that clock move a little faster, I’d appreciate it.”
He smiled warmly, moving toward the chair where I’d chosen to fall into a useless slump. “Come on, Jude,” he said, holding out a cupped hand.
I firmly gripped it, and he pulled me to a standing position.
“Let’s go get some lunch and see if we can’t talk away some of these hours. Sitting around here will be like watching a pot of boiling water.”
Brian sighed. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to go take back a few snide comments.”
I had no idea what he meant, and before I had a second to ask, he was gone.
Marcus’s arm fell loosely around me in a fatherly gesture—one I’d seen but never really had the pleasure of enjoying as a kid. My father’s love had always been shown in his devotion to the family business, not in physical gestures.
“
One must always provide for his family,
” he’d once told me.
And he had. It had been his number one goal, his life’s ambition. Even though I’d missed out on an abundance of hugs and trips to the zoo, my father had shown his love in his own way.
Still, as Marcus looked at me with admiration and pride, like a father admiring a grown child, I couldn’t help but wonder what an embrace like this would have felt like from my own father.
“I never thought I’d be eating here on my wedding day,” I commented, looking around at the shabby interior of the hole-in-the-wall restaurant Marcus had chosen at random after we’d walked down the frozen streets of Manhattan.
“That’s exactly why I picked it. You’ll have plenty of time for that hoity-toity crap your mom has set up for later. Let’s just relax, play a game of pool, and talk.”
I nodded, feeling a bit calmer already, as I ordered a round of beers for Marcus and Brian. I indulged in my usual Coke, but since it was my special day, I added a cherry just for kicks. Seeing my fiancé die after the two of us had partied a bit too hard one weekend had officially ended my partying days in one devastating night. Nowadays, I just didn’t see the point.
I’d learned to move past my guilt, the all-consuming raw fear that my every action had caused that accident to happen that night. If I hadn’t introduced us to the group at the club, if we hadn’t stayed and followed them to their home, if I’d only gone back to the hotel when Megan asked, if we hadn’t been drunk . . . there were so many factors, so many reasons, and I’d decided it all came down to one guilty party—myself.
But over time, after much healing, I’d learned that blaming myself would never bring her back, and living in the mountain of regret I’d built around myself would never solve anything.
Would Megan be happy to learn I’d given up my life as well?
So, I’d freed myself from the shackles I’d sentenced myself to and learned to live again—with Lailah.
But some things never change, and the idea of drinking scared me to death, especially since I’d been entrusted with the greatest gift on earth. If anything happened to Lailah because of me, I didn’t think I could live with myself. When it came to her, I could never be reckless.
As our drinks arrived and greasy burgers and French fries were ordered, we made our way over to an empty pool table and began setting up our first game.
“So, seeing as I’ll be a married man in a few hours,” I said as I rubbed a little blue chalk along the tip of my pool stick, “how about you entertain us with a few stories about my beautiful bride, Marcus? Tell me something I might not know.”
His motions mimicked my own as he readied his pool stick, and then he began to collect the scattered balls that had fallen into the pockets from a previous game.
“Hmm . . . let me think,” he answered, placing each ball into the triangular form before sliding it up to the silver marker on the table.