We’re meeting Ashley daily now. It’s hard to relive the past. It’s hard to remember the bad things. The good, too. Especially while Clara and I are still at odds right now. We’re not fighting. We talk, but only in regard to Neena. It’s very minimal. We take shifts sleeping downstairs with her at night. Our disagreement is silly. Really. I know she’s just frantic a lot of the time; concerned for Neena. I know that she tries to shoulder everything, like if she hadn’t left Neena with me that night, Neena wouldn’t have taken such a rapid turn for the worse. But I recognize that while she blames me, she really blames herself. Why is it when we’re hurting we always take it out on the ones we love the most?
“When Marcus walked in on you two and Clara left . . . that was a bad night,” Ashley notes.
“It was,” I agree.
“What happened?”
After Clara stormed out, Marcus cocked his head and pursed his lips in thought. “Okay. So maybe she wasn’t his lover.”
I clenched my eyes closed. Was he fucking serious? It took her losing her shit like that to convince him?
“So . . . how long has that been going on?” He pointed at the desk where Clara had been bent over for my pleasure just minutes before.
“Not long,” I grumbled as I shoved the office chair under the desk. I was fucking pissed. Pissed at Marcus for walking in and making a scene. I was pissed at Clara for calling me spineless. I was pissed at myself for being gutless. I should have stood up for her. I wanted to. But I didn’t know what to say. Marcus was family. Also, I didn’t want to imply she and I were casual . . . maybe we were, but I didn’t know. I didn’t want to make it seem like we were an item either. I wasn’t sure what we were, and in that moment, I felt like I’d piss her off no matter what I said. So I said nothing. I’d disappointed two people at the same damn time. Not my best hour.
“You . . . with her?”
“I don’t fucking know, Marcus, okay?” I spat out.
“Why are you pissed at me?” he asked angrily.
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Um, let’s see,” I began with a haughty laugh. “Why can’t you cut her some slack? I mean, seriously.”
He blinked at me, his expression unreadable.
“Our business is better than ever. She stays out of your way, for the most part. She could fire you for acting like such an asshole and if she did, I couldn’t blame her.” I knew I was treading on thin ice.
“You’d let her fire me?”
“I’ve tried staying out of it. I’ve tried letting you guys work it out on your own. I love you, man, but you won’t quit, Marcus. She’s not going anywhere. You’re not going to bully her out of here and frankly, I don’t want her to go.”
His brows shot up. “You love her, don’t you?”
I turned from him and dropped my head. That’s what it sounded like I’d just said. Is that what I meant? Shit. I was confused. Maybe not confused, but definitely in denial. “It has to stop, Marcus. You have to stop goading her.”
When I spun around and saw him again, he was frowning. “I just . . . I don’t get why he left it to her and not me.” I felt bad for him, I really did. I let out a long sigh. That was what it all boiled down to. He was hurt. In a way, I was like Dennis’ first son. He helped raise me. With my career and skills, I thought he felt he had to leave me half the business. He knew I could run the jumps. But with Clara, it made no sense. She was working in orthodontics. She’d mentioned it once. What did orthodontics have to do with skydiving? It was a puzzle piece that just wouldn’t fit no matter how hard we tried to jam it in place. Plus, Marcus had always taken care of the office.
“Maybe if you try being nicer to her . . . she’ll tell you eventually. Dennis loved you. I’m sure there’s a good reason why he did what he did.” I wanted to know just as badly as Marcus, if not more.
He bobbed his head a few times. “I gotta go.”
“Marcus,” I called after him as he left the office. But he didn’t turn back. I paced in the office for a few minutes, trying to get my wits about me. This night sure went in the shitter fast. Marcus wasn’t pleased with me. But I knew better than to mess with him right now. He needed some time to decompress. Clara was pissed at me, as well, and rightfully so. With a deep breath, I steeled myself. It was time to try and fix this.
She wouldn’t answer her door when I knocked. After knocking for the fourth time, I tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. I marched in, determined. I would fix this. Somehow. I made my way to the kitchen and found her sitting at the table, a cup of coffee beside her and a folded piece of paper in front of her.
“Guess you didn’t hear me knocking,” I jested. She didn’t find it amusing. Pulling out a chair, I took a seat beside her as she sipped her coffee.
“I’m terrible at apologies,” I began.