Hard Fall by Brenda Rothert

Chapter Twelve

Hadley

“And…done. Try complaining about that, Liz.”

I clicked the Send button and officially sent my story for the magazine about planning a child’s birthday party on any budget. It had been a week since Annalise’s party, and I’d been inspired to write a package, complete with cake recipes, game ideas and a companion story about being inclusive of children of differing abilities at parties.

We’d talked at our last semiannual retreat about catering to the growing demographic of moms who subscribed to Willow, but I’d never imagined that just a few months later, I’d be in a position to write stories like the one I’d just turned in.

A confirmation message popped up in my inbox immediately. Liz got the email I just sent her. Scoffing, I looked at the clock on the wall of Ben’s study—it was nine fifteen and the sun had set hours ago. I’d privately joked to other staffers at the magazine that Liz didn’t actually have a home; she just coiled up beneath her desk for a few hours each night to digest whomever she’d eaten whole that day and slithered out a few hours later to do it all again.

I’d envied her work ethic. But I now realized it was a hell of a lot easier to put in twelve plus hours a day when you didn’t have any other responsibilities.

I quickly closed my computer so I wouldn’t see any more messages from my boss until tomorrow. I was exhausted. It had been a long day of laundry, taking care of the kids and working. I’d come into Ben’s study around three this afternoon, leaving Wes to take care of the kids.

My plan to close the door and focus entirely on work this evening had mostly worked. I hadn’t been able to resist turning on the baby monitors that were connected to the kids’ rooms when Wes was putting them to bed.

He’d told them stories about Ben as he fed Benny his bottle, tasking Annalise with organizing Benny’s dresser drawers to keep her busy. It was bittersweet, tears forming in my eyes as I smiled at his recollections of Ben’s first car, their first NHL game against each other and the time they tried skydiving.

“I was the chicken,” Wes had told the kids. “I had to tell your dad to push me out of the plane. He was smiling and laughing the whole way down and I was screaming my ass off. Sorry, my butt.”

“Daddy said ass too, Uncle Wes,” Annalise said. “When Mommy wasn’t around, he said shit, ass and fuck. Mostly when we were watching hockey.”

Wes had laughed at that, and I had, too, wiping tears from my cheeks. Even after nearly two months, the loss of Ben and Lauren still felt so raw. Every time one of the kids did something cute, I longed for Lauren to be here to see it.

There was a picture of Ben and Lauren on Ben’s large walnut desk, and I picked it up for a closer look. It was the two of them on their honeymoon in Hawaii, smiling happily as they took a selfie in front of a waterfall.

Little did they know. I was grateful they’d found their great loves in each other and had two children together. But they’d been taken from this world far too soon. Wes had gotten a call from the local state’s attorney’s office a couple days ago letting us know all the toxicology results were in and the case review was complete. DUI charges were being filed against the driver who’d killed Ben and Lauren.

Wes had been stoic when he’d told me, but I knew it had to be emotional for him, too, even if he wasn’t showing it.

It was a gut punch. One person’s stupid decision to drive drunk had cost two beautiful young children their parents. Wes and I both supported the state’s attorney’s decision to charge the driver, but there was no penalty that would come close to comforting me. The world had been a better place with Ben and Lauren in it.

With a deep breath, I picked up my phone and got up from Ben’s office chair, opening my personal email. I let out a little squeal of excitement when I saw a message from the photographer I’d hired to shoot Annalise’s party. The photos were in.

I went to the kitchen to find something to eat. There was leftover pizza from the place Wes had ordered delivery from for dinner. I put a few pieces on a plate and set it in the microwave, pushing the buttons.

“Hey, there’s pizza in the fridge,” Wes called from the family room. “And I already poured your wine; it’s waiting for you.”

I smiled as I took my plate from the microwave, grabbed a napkin and walked into the family room, where Wes was sitting on the couch watching SportsCenter, his feet propped on the coffee table.

“I don’t know,” I said as I sat down beside him. “Do you think maybe when others know you want a glass of wine before you even say anything, it might be one of the Top Ten Signs You Have a Problem?”

Wes shrugged. “I say wine’s not your problem, but your solution.”

I snorted out a laugh. “Also a contender for that Top Ten list.”

“Did you get your work done?”

“Yeah. But the viper will have a whole new list for me tomorrow.”

“She seems like a real bitch of a boss.”

I scoffed and took a sip of the red wine Wes had poured me. “You know, it’s ironic. I always wanted to be just like her. I saw Liz as someone who took no shit, outworked everyone and made hard decisions. Do you know that when she’s interviewing a woman for a job, she pries for information about whether she has kids or wants them, and she’s less likely to hire them if she thinks someone will need maternity leave or use all their vacation days?”

“That’s fucked.”

“It really is. But I was so stupid. I thought it made sense. Now that I’m on the other side of it, I get it. Women shouldn’t have to choose between their career and their family.”

I took another drink of my wine as Wes said, “Totally agree.”

“You know you’re missing the hockey highlights, right?” I said, my gaze on the TV screen.

“I do, and it’s killing me. I’m trying to be all sensitive and shit, and listen to you.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “Watch your highlights and I’ll eat. We can talk after.”

Five minutes later, when I was no longer ravenous, I poured a second glass of wine, and Wes’s attention was focused on me again.

“Did your mom work?” I asked him. “You never mention your family.”

“Yeah, she did. My parents were both attorneys, and they mostly did medical malpractice. They busted ass, made a shit ton of money and retired when my dad was fifty-five and my mom was fifty-three. They go back and forth between London and Miami now.”

“Really? Do you ever visit?”

He shrugged. “About once a year I go see them and once a year they come here.”

“It doesn’t sound like you guys are close.”

“Nah, we’re not. But they’d be there for me if I needed anything. They’re proud of me and all, just doing their own thing.” He looked at me intently, a charged silence surrounding us, making me wonder if he was going to kiss me or keep talking. “What about you? You’ve never mentioned your family, either.”

I sighed softly. “There’s not much to mention. My dad left my mom when I was two and we never saw him again. My mom wasn’t the best mom, but she wasn’t the worst, either. My brother and I kept our heads down and got good grades, because we wanted to get out of the little town where we were born in Iowa. Our mom died of cancer when he was twenty and I was eighteen.”

“I’m sorry, Hadley.”

“Thanks. It was a long time ago.”

“Do you still keep in touch with your brother?”

“Yes, when I can. He’s a Navy SEAL, so he has to go off-grid a lot, and I never really know where he is. But I’m crazy proud of him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Griff. Short for Griffin.”

“Does he know about Ben and Lauren? And about us getting the kids?”

I nodded. “We email pretty often. It works better since he’s in other countries and his hours are different than mine.”

“Hope I can meet him sometime.”

“I’m sure you will. I told him I’ll send him pictures from the party.” I picked up my phone from the couch. “Which reminds me, the photographer sent the pictures.”

I opened the email and scooted closer to Wes so we could look at them together. He put an arm around me and I snuggled in, my heart pounding from the intimacy. It had been a long time since I’d snuggled with a man. Like years. The men I’d slept with in the past were just hit-it-and-quit-it types, and honestly, I’d been ready to quit them before the hitting was even over.

“That’s awesome,” Wes said when I opened the first photo.

It was Annalise posing with all the Mavericks players who’d dressed up as Avengers for her party. She was beaming, and so were they.

I scrolled through the pictures, Wes and I oohing, aahing and laughing at most of them. Then I got to the first one of the two of us with Benny and Annalise. I was holding Benny and Wes had his arm around Annalise as she smiled, her cake off to the side.

We were both silent as we took in the picture. I was bombarded with emotions. It was supposed to be Ben and Lauren in that picture with their babies. The four of us looked like a family, and even though we lived as a family every day, it was another thing to see us posed like one in a photo.

“Damn,” Wes whispered.

I blew out a breath and set my phone aside. “I didn’t expect to feel so…I don’t know, sad, I guess.”

“It’s hard. Ben was such a great dad. I already feel like a piss-poor imposter. And then to see that picture, it just…”

“I know.” I hugged his chest. “We just have to take this one day at a time.”

“You want to watch a show or something? Get things feeling a little lighter?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Or we could continue our last kiss,” he said, holding me close. “I think about doing that about a dozen times a day.”

I was exhausted, had pepperoni breath and hadn’t showered today, but I still considered it. We both wanted more than a kiss, and somehow I knew if Wes and I slept together, all my other emotions and worries would be swept away for however blissfully long it lasted. Kind of like when we kissed, but magnified many times over.

The baby monitor crackled, and it wasn’t Benny making the noise as usual, but Annalise.

“Aunt Hadley?” she said in a sleepy tone.

She was used to lying down with me at night. If she fell asleep in the family room, Wes would carry her to bed, but we never made her go to bed alone. It was probably a bad habit, but we wanted to give her every comfort we could.

Instinctively, I jumped up from the couch. Wes sighed deeply and picked up the remote.

“Let me know if you need any help,” he said.

“Thanks.”

I actually welcomed the distraction, because I’d been close to telling Wes yes. I wanted to forget all the feelings that had hit when we saw that picture of us and the kids. And as much as I would’ve liked it, it wouldn’t have fixed anything. The feelings weren’t going away, and if I slept with Wes, I was pretty sure I’d have even more feelings to contend with.

I just didn’t have emotional bandwidth left for anything else. Parenting, working and mourning already took everything I had and more each day. The last thing Wes and I needed was to complicate things even further.

“I’m regretting the glitter guns,” I said to Lauren, turning my face from side to side to see my reflection in the mirror of the nightclub’s bathroom.

I was covered in gold sparkles; it would take forever to scrub each speck off.

“We’re still drunk, which means you’re not allowed to kill my buzz yet.” She grinned at me from the sink next to the one I stood in front of.

“It takes nothing to get you wasted these days,” I said, laughing. “You’re a lot drunker than I am.”

“I hardly ever go out! It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m in New York City! The big fucking apple.”

“No one calls it that,” I said, snorting loudly.

“Can you guys hurry up?” an annoyed female voice said from behind us.

I turned and glared. “You look fine. Use some sanitizer on your hands and get back to the party.”

“Come on,” Lauren said, grabbing my arm and taking off. “I want to find my sexy husband so I can kiss him when the ball drops.” She laughed loudly. “I said ball.”

Ben and Lauren had come to the city to celebrate New Year’s Eve at a trendy new club I’d gotten us into. Annalise was at a hotel with a babysitter Ben and Lauren had flown in with them. They were paying her a fortune so they could go out but not be far from their daughter. And of course, they’d asked Wes to come out with us, too. He was getting Ben shit-faced on whiskey, the two of them laughing obliviously as two women approached them.

“Oh, hell no,” Lauren muttered as we walked closer.

The women had just gotten Ben and Wes to turn and look at them when we reached them.

“He’s taken,” Lauren said sharply, sliding onto her husband’s lap.

“Oh, sorry,” the blond said, turning to Wes. “What about you?”

Her friend looked at me, likely waiting to see if I was about to show my claws like Lauren just had.

“He’s all yours,” I said, putting my palms up.

“Can we share you?” the dark-haired woman asked, giving Wes a coy look.

“Uh, I wish.” He grinned. “I’m really flattered, ladies, but I’m here with my friends and I just want to spend time with them.”

“Aw, but who are you gonna kiss when the ball drops?” the blond asked with a fake pout.

“Uh…” Wes looked at me.

“No,” I said firmly.

“Relax, I wasn’t even thinking it.”

“It’s happening in ten minutes!” the blond said, putting a hand on Wes’s thigh. “Let’s get drinks so we’re ready to toast!”

“You two need to fuck off,” Lauren said, waving a hand. “I’ll kiss him if I have to, but you’re not staying.”

“You’re not kissing him,” Ben said, lowering his brows as the two women rolled their eyes and left.

“I didn’t mean like with tongue,” Lauren said.

“You want me to kiss Hadley, then?” Ben asked.

Lauren’s expression morphed from annoyed to disbelieving.

“Guys, no one’s kissing but you two, okay? We’re gonna toast with shots.”

A waitress arrived then with a tray of shots and Wes passed them out. We gathered around our table and watched the large screen at the bar where the Times Square ball drop was being broadcasted. It was a fifteen-minute walk from where we were, but it was freezing and none of us had wanted to spend the evening outside.

“To great friends,” Ben said as people in the bar counted down to the big moment.

“To friends!” Wes echoed, and we all clinked glasses.

Music played and confetti flew as we threw back the shots, my throat burning as the alcohol hit. When I set my glass down, Lauren had her palms on Ben’s cheeks and they were kissing. Wes moved closer to me, his steps uneven and his eyes bloodshot. He was wasted.

“Don’t even think about kissing me,” I cautioned, light-headed from the shot but still very aware of not letting my guard down.

I’d experienced a painful breakup a few weeks ago, and I was feeling vulnerable. I couldn’t let too much alcohol and a broken heart allow me to make an awful decision about Wes.

Wes leaned in and I turned my face away to make sure he couldn’t kiss me.

“Trust me, I’m not thinking about it,” he said in my ear. “I was just gonna say I hope this is your year, Hadley. I hope the massive icicle wedged in your ass gets a chance to defrost this year and maybe you can finally get laid.”

I scoffed, but my pulse pounded anxiously as his words hit home.

“I get laid plenty, thanks,” I said crisply.

“Sure you do. I’m sure there are lots of guys looking for a woman to criticize their every move.” Wes laughed, and I hated him just a little more than before.

Maybe this would be the year he stopped being such a dick. I seriously doubted it, though. Wes Kirby would never change.