Forsaking Gray (The Colloway Brothers Book 1) (35 page)

“Did you see him?” I ask anxiously when he walks through the door.

“Yes.” He walks to the refrigerator and takes out a beer.

“And?”

Luke leans against the island and tips the brew to his lips, taking a long gulp. “And I did as you asked.” His eyes wouldn’t meet mine.

“Thank you,” I reply quietly. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you.” I’ve unfairly put Luke into the middle of this shit storm with Gray and me, even though I knew what it would do to him. He wants me for himself, but he loves me enough to take my confession to the man
I’m
in love with. His twin brother. A brother who tells people he’s dead. God, I hate myself more with each passing day. I seem to have one thing down to a science. Hurting the people I love.

He downs his bottle in one more giant gulp before setting it down hard on the counter. He pulls me to him, burying his head in my hair, holding me close like he’s trying to crawl inside. The gesture is tender and filled with love and heartbreak. We stand silently there for long minutes, arms wrapped around each other.

I have this near overwhelming urge to kiss him because I know a goodbye when I feel one. I’m breaking inside. I
need
him, even though I know it’s wrong to lean on him so much when he’s hurting just like me.
Because
of me. Then he kisses my temple, warm lips lingering, before he leaves me and walks back to the front door.

“Yeah, it was hard,” he says almost inaudibly right before he walks out, leaving me standing there alone.

A single tear streaks down my face. I’ve lost so much. I don’t know how much more loss I can take. I place a protective hand over my belly, where the baby that Gray and I created grows and I pray that, for once, God will be on my side and let me have something good in my life.

Chapter 51

I stare at the thin envelope my brother left on my desk like it’s full of razor sharp thorns that will bleed me dry if I prick myself. My hands tremble as I slit open the sealed flap and take out the three pages inside. I’m nauseous, the sandwich I ate for lunch churning madly in my stomach.

These are my answers. I knew I was about to learn something that I no longer really wanted to know but had no other choice. There are times when burying your head in the sand simply isn’t a viable option any longer. I guess that’s where I am.

I look at down at Livvy’s handwritten letter. For minutes I just stare at the salutation, afraid to go any further. Then I start to read. Several times throughout the letter, I have to set it aside because it’s simply too agonizing to continue and my tears blur the words. It takes me nearly half an hour to get through it.

My Dearest Gray ~

I know I’m taking the coward’s way out by writing you a letter instead of telling you this in person, but I can’t stand to see the shame and hurt, and even possibly disgust you’ll have for me after I tell you everything. I only hope that someday you’ll be able to understand, and possibly even forgive me for my actions and the suffering they’ve clearly caused you.

Please believe me when I tell you, if I could have done things differently, if there were any other path than the one I chose, I would have taken it. I would have done almost anything to be with you and share the life I’d already envisioned us having together. And you’ll see, once my story is finished, therein lies the problem. That one little word, almost, is what changed everything for me. For us.

Mine starts out as a true love story. A fairytale. The one that romance writers will try to emulate. But it’s not possible, for there is no greater love story.

The fairytale starts when a young, naïve, working girl meets a cocky, confident, persistent, beautiful boy. The second she laid eyes on him, he took her breath away and she knew he was The One. He was fierce and loyal, intense and loving. He would sweep her off her feet and become the love of her life. He was her future husband and father of her children. He stole her heart and imprisoned it deep within him, so it would become forever his. In her entire lifetime, there would never be another that could have it because it was no longer hers to give. He was her soul mate. Her life. Her very breath. Her reason for living.

Her everything.

He was you. He
is
you.

But every story has a villain, and this one is no different. My fairytale quickly morphed into a horror story. I know this will be difficult for you to read, Gray, and for that, I apologize. I can assure you, however, not more difficult than it is for me to know you’ll be reading it.

The morning after your proposal, I got an urgent phone call from my father. He was crying and sounded scared. I thought Alyse was in trouble again, so I left you a note and rushed home. It turns out Alyse was in trouble, just not in the way I’d thought. You know my father was a gambling addict and apparently he owed some very bad men a lot of money. Money he didn’t have, so their payment came in the form of a young, innocent eighteen-year-old girl who had already suffered so much. A girl who wouldn’t have survived a day, let alone three years, with a monster.

You understand why I couldn’t let that happen.

Fifteen minutes after I arrived home I was taken away and the next day, I was forced to marry a fifty-five-year-old monster and mobster named Peter Wilder. They didn’t know about you, Gray. And I couldn’t let them. I would not endanger your life, or Alyse’s. If I’d tried to warn either of you in any way, you’d have stopped at nothing to find me and I have no doubt Peter would have taken great pleasure killing you just to spite me. So I followed every instruction to the letter and prayed I’d find a way out. That I’d find my way back to you before it was too late. It turns out my way out wasn’t until three years later, but it was far too late by then.

It wasn’t a marriage of love or convenience or even hate. It was a sacrifice that needed to be made in order to change my sister’s fate. And I was the only one that could make it. Alyse has no idea, and it must stay that way.

Please don’t ask me to detail all of the horrible things I endured during that time. It was traumatic, it was horrific and whatever you’re imagining, it was probably worse. Peter Wilder was not a nice or decent man. He didn’t buy me jewels or take me on extravagant vacations. He didn’t love me. He barely tolerated me. But I’m here. I survived, and that’s all that matters. Peter is dead and I’m free. I’ve had extensive counseling and, although I still have my days, for the most part, I’m better. Only my love and memories of you got me through those dark days and I’m so grateful that I have new ones we’ve created these past few blissful weeks. You will never understand how much that means to me.

You need to know that Luke saved my life. Luke worked for Peter, that’s how we met. And although I don’t know his story, I knew he didn’t want to be there. He didn’t belong with them. He was kind-hearted and soft and he had what none of the rest of them did. A conscience. If it wasn’t for Luke, I’d be dead. He cared for me the many times I was beaten and when Peter died of a stroke a little more than two years ago, he single-handedly got me out of hell and into a new life. He set me up in Chicago, gave me money and found me a place to live. I haven’t seen or heard from him since then until just a couple of weeks ago. I think perhaps the man you thought you knew isn’t the same man anymore. You should give him a chance. Get to know him again. I actually think you’d like him and would be able to see the good in him that I do.

I’m not going to lie to you. I love Luke. We have a bond and a friendship that’s unique and he was there for me when I had no one else. I won’t give that up. I won’t give him up. Not even for you. But I’m not in love with Luke. I’m in love with
you
, and I have been every day for the past eight years. I think it’s true what they say that we don’t get to choose who we fall in love with. We just fall and hope for the best, no matter how the story ends. I will never regret us. I will never regret our love because regretting it means I wish it never happened and, for so many reasons, I could never do that.

You can probably now understand why I didn’t tell you all of this before, even though you had every right to know. I warred with myself every day for the past two years on whether I should find you, but…I was scared. I wasn’t the same woman you fell in love with and I didn’t know if you could love this new version of me. The tainted version. I thought too much time had passed. I thought you’d hate me. I thought you’d be with someone else and I couldn’t bear to see that. I thought a lot of things. None of them good.

And when fate placed us in each other’s paths once again, even though you deserved it, I just couldn’t make myself say the words. I was selfish. Truth be told, I didn’t want you to look at me differently. I didn’t want to lose you again. I couldn’t understand how you could still want me, how you could possibly forgive me after everything that I had done to you and I didn’t want anything to shatter the fragile relationship we were trying to rebuild. But a relationship can’t thrive on lies or half-truths or secrets. I wasn’t the only victim in this story. I know you were left confused and angry and hurt and you deserve closure, even if it’s hard to hear and hard for me to say. I was wrong to keep this from you for so long and I’m so very sorry.

I understand if this is too much for you to handle. Truly I do. It’s a lot for anyone to wrap their head around. I think maybe these answers have come too late for us and I’ll never forgive myself for ruining what we had yet a second time. Even though I stayed away, please believe that I’ve ached to be with you every single day. These past few weeks I’ve felt more alive than I have since the last day I saw your beautiful face.

I want you to know that, while it will hurt, I’ll be okay without you. I understand if we can’t be together and if this secret I’ve kept has damaged us beyond repair. I have nothing but love in my heart for you, and I always will. You’re it for me. You’ll always have my heart under lock and key, unavailable for any other man.

I pray this gives you the answers you’ve been seeking and provides you the closure you need. I hope someday you can find it within yourself to forgive me, move on with your life and be truly happy. You deserve that and so much more, Gray.

Forever yours,

Livvy

When I’ve finished reading the last sentence, I let myself finally break down.

I cry for Livvy.

I cry for me.

I cry for all that we’ve lost because of a sick, addicted old man. A man I would kill if he weren’t already dead.

I cry for the unknown pain and suffering that she went through while I was simply stuck spinning my wheels in bitterness and anger.

I cry for the sacrifice she made for her sister. For me.

I cry for the many ways I’ve failed her, both then and now.

I get the message. She’s letting me go. She’s telling me it’s okay for
me
to let
her
go. But I’m
not
letting go. I’m not letting
her
go.

Then I do what I should have done a week and a half ago. I step up to the fucking plate and I make plans for my future. A future which includes Livvy. Because despite everything, despite what she thinks, it’s not too late for us. I will never love another woman. I’m never giving her up.
I can’t
. She’s my everything. She always has been. The only way I can truly be happy is with her.

She’s not the only one who’s had her heart stolen, forever unavailable to another.

Chapter 52