The corners of Reed’s eyes creased. He looked genuinely confused as to why I wasn’t receptive to his surprise arrival. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry. But I know we can work this out. You belong in my life. I know that now.”
My glare might have been aimed at Reed, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of every one of Canaan’s movements. From the rolling of his neck to the shifting of his weight like he was trying to hold himself back, he was a volcano about to go off.
“I don’t belong to anyone, Reed. Least of all you.” I handed what was left of my elephant ear to Rachel before waving at him. “You could have saved yourself the trip. You should just head back to Chicago or San Francisco or wherever the hell you want, because I’m not going with you.”
His hand ran through his hair, a rare look of uncertainty settling into his eyes. “Can we go somewhere to talk? If you could just hear me out; how I feel about you—”
“I don’t want to talk. You said everything I need to know about how you feel about me from the airport that night.”
“Maggie, damn it, please. I’m trying here.”
“Stop trying,” I retorted, backing a few steps away, Rachel right beside me. “Leave me alone.”
“Maggie. Stop.” Reed’s arm had no more that whipped toward me, his hand reaching for my wrist, before someone cut in.
Canaan’s big hand clamped around Reed’s wrist, squeezing it before flinging it back at Reed’s side. “She asked you to leave her alone.” Canaan stepped in front of me so I couldn’t see Reed. Beside me, Rachel was singing a litany of curses. “That was me telling you to leave her alone.”
“Who the hell are you?” Reed barked.
Rachel continued to pull me back to put some space between us and them. She’d been around for enough of Canaan’s fights to know a wide buffer of distance was important.
“Around here, we make our introductions a little differently. If you want to know who I am, you start by introducing yourself.” The muscles of Canaan’s back pressed through his shirt, his hands still curled into fists at his sides.
“Reed McAllister. Maggie’s boyfriend.”
Before I could snap anything about there being a defining “ex” before that title, Canaan’s voice cut through. “Canaan Ford.” I heard the sneer in his voice, alerting me to what was coming next. “Maggie’s husband.”
My whole body went limp for a moment, the list of curse words continuing from Rachel beside me.
Reed chuckled, coming into view just over Canaan’s shoulder. “And where I’m from, it’s not considered polite to lie to people while making introductions.”
“I’m not lying.” Canaan’s head tipped back at me. “Just ask Maggie.”
My eyes met Canaan’s, but he didn’t flinch from the look in them. He didn’t seem to care that I was looking at him like he’d just betrayed me in the worst way possible. All he cared about was making sure this man knew what belonged to whom—me being that “what.”
“Maggie?” Reed stepped to the side until he could see me. “What’s this joker talking about?”
I wanted to say something, but it was impossible with the way my windpipe had collapsed.
“Now would be a really good time to say something,” Reed pressed. Rachel’s hand wound through mine, a show of moral support, while I grappled for the right words.
“Canaan is my husband.” My answer came, surprising all four of us.
Reed’s eyes went wide, his hand waving between Canaan and me. “You went and got married?”
My eyes squeezed shut. Of all the ways I could have told Reed I’d been married, this was the least favorable option. “No, I’ve been married.” My head shook when I realized how that sounded. “I mean, I got married when I was eighteen. We were kids. It didn’t work out.”
Reed was looking at Canaan in a different light. “So you got a divorce?”
That would have been the sensible thing to do, right?
“Not exactly.”
Reed’s mouth fell open. “Not exactly?” He sounded as disgusted as he had every right to be. “You’re not serious, Maggie.”
My teeth worked at my lip, and my eyes dropped from the way he was looking at me. “I think the State of Missouri could clear up any further confusion you have on my marital status.”
When Reed moved toward me, Canaan was there, blocking him from getting any closer. Reed looked like he was about to shove Canaan out of the way, but he caught himself at the last moment. It was a prudent decision. Considering Canaan could probably shove him into next week if he wanted to.
“You mean to tell me the woman I’ve been dating for the past two years has been married to some other guy this whole time?”
The temperature had dialed up twenty degrees from the feel of it. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I debated how best to answer that. “Technically?” I exhaled. “Yeah, you have.”
A laugh erupted from Reed. It was an unfriendly kind, the type that put the chill in a person’s blood. “You lied to me this whole time?” His head shook as his laugh tapered to an end. “You fucking lied to me?”
Canaan slid in front of Reed yet again when he advanced a step toward me. This time, Reed didn’t hold back. His arms flew out and he pushed Canaan like he meant to throw him to the ground.
Canaan didn’t even budge.
For the moment.
“Canaan, don’t,” I shouted, guessing I had one or two precious seconds to reason with him before he threw himself on Reed.
He ignored me; his attention was aimed entirely on Reed as one corner of his mouth lifted. “If it makes you feel any better, she showed up with divorce papers in hand for me to sign.” Canaan paused, getting in Reed’s face. “Before we slept together.”
Reed’s fist came around quickly, but Canaan was expecting it.
Instead of blocking it like I expected him to, before delivering one of his own, Canaan braced himself and let Reed hit him. The crack of fist against bone filled the air, and Rachel flinched. Reed fell back a couple of steps, shaking his fist while Canaan rolled his jaw before spitting out some blood.
“Come on, surely you’re gonna hit me more than once, right?” Canaan’s arm lifted at his sides. “One hit for every fuck, how about that? You might still be swinging when the sun sets, but you’ll feel better after.”
“Canaan!” I snapped.
“What? It seems only fair. He gets to hit me for every time I’ve been with you in the past few weeks? I still get the better deal, no matter how hard he swings.”
“Damn it, Canaan. Stop.” I was marching toward him when Reed’s other fist came around and smashed into the other side of Canaan’s face.
Like before, Canaan didn’t fall back. He didn’t hit back. He stood there, taking it. “You know, as pathetic as you punch, I understand why Maggie couldn’t wait to get back below me.” Canaan spit out a little more blood, working his jaw before continuing. “You fuck like you hit, boy, and it’s a miracle she suffered you as long as she did.”
It wasn’t just one of Reed’s fists next. It was both, one right after another, until I’d lost count. The whole time, Canaan stood there, taking each one like they were both his punishment and his penitence.
“Reed, enough!” I shouted when I noticed the familiar sight of blood spatter staining Canaan’s fresh white tee.
Shoving between them, I braced my hands against Reed until I was able to push him away just enough his arms couldn’t connect with Canaan’s bloody face.
“Go, Reed,” I breathed. “Just go.”
He took a few moments to climb down from the rage high, his breath coming fast from the exertion. When he did, he couldn’t stop looking between his swollen fists and Canaan’s face.
“I am leaving,” he snapped, shoving away from me. “You’re not worth the effort.”
His sharp words didn’t cut me as I guessed he’d intended them to. Instead, one of my shoulders rose. “I know.”
Without another word, he spun around and storm
ed away. He’d finally gotten the message—we were through. I wished he wouldn’t have found out the way he had, but I couldn’t change that now.
Taking a deep breath before turning around, I braced myself for what I’d see and what I’d say. I wasn’t prepared for either.
Canaan’s face was swollen and bleeding—barely recognizable. Such a familiar sight it churned my stomach. All I could hear were the things he’d spewed to Reed as I stood there, staring at his broken face yet again. I couldn’t think straight with everything that had just happened and all of the people around and the heat continuing to dial up another fifty degrees. I couldn’t think when he was looking at me with his eyes swelling shut, like I was something that belonged to him and he’d challenge anyone who said otherwise.
“Goodbye, Canaan.” The words shocked me as much as they shocked him.
“What do you mean goodbye?” he asked, swiping his face with his forearm.
“You know what goodbye means. You might remember me saying it before leaving you the first time.” My tongue worked into my cheek, not missing the effect my words had on him.
“I’ve still got two days.” His fist thumped his chest, his voice growing. “You’re not going anywhere.”
His words felt like their own kind of hit, but this kind struck deeper than the surface flesh. “You’re holding that over me? That one-month ultimatum? Are you serious right now, Canaan Ford?”
Rachel came up from behind, wincing when she saw Canaan’s face. Others on the edges of the crowd were watching us, probably all too familiar with the storm we were capable of creating. I didn’t care who was watching. I didn’t care what they heard.
I was done with feeling like a puppet who behaved according to others. Whether that be an arrogant, self-entitled ex-boyfriend, or a town full of nosey people, or a soon-to-be ex-husband who seemed to view me as a possession.
“Damn right I’m serious. You made a deal.” He pointed at me. “You promised one month, and by god, I’m not settling for anything less than one fucking month.”
My vision skewed red. My god, how this man and I could fight. What had I even been thinking that we might have a shot at making it this time around? I’d been out of my ever-loving mind, that was the only explanation. “If you think anything you could possibly say or do in the next two days might change my mind from wanting a divorce from you, you’ve lost your mind!”
He made a face, droplets of blood falling onto his shirt as he stared at me. “And you made up your mind about us the very first day.” He let that settle between us, daring me to deny it.
I stayed quiet.
“I’m not hanging around to watch you leave me twice.” He backed away, gaining speed until he spun around. “This time, I’m doing the leaving.”
“You’re sure you’re all right?” Rachel twisted around in her seat as Brian pulled into my driveway later that night. “Because you don’t look all right.”
“I just endured a Wheat Princess reunion nightmare and chased away two decent men.” I shot her a tight smile as I swung the back door open. “Leaves a girl looking a little worse for wear.”
Rachel rolled down her window when I climbed out. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Her gaze wandered to the same apartment mine were studying. His truck wasn’t there, and neither was he.
“You two have done more than enough already. I’ll be fine. I swear.” I worked a real smile into place, waving at them as I backed toward the house. “Thanks for the ride. And the moral support. “
“You’ll call if you need anything?” Rachel shouted as Brian started to back away.
“Promise,” I called, waiting until they’d made it onto the road to give one final wave before they drove off.
Alone. Finally.
This was the first moment I’d had to myself to reflect on the disaster that was today. Now that I had that quiet moment, I wasn’t so sure I wanted it.
I was turning to head into the house when I stopped short. I’d left one of the paintings I’d been working on at Canaan’s the other night, and I figured this was as good a time as any to retrieve it. With him being gone, it would be easy to get in and get out.
As I headed toward the apartment, I realized I had to confront him sometime soon. I couldn’t leave the way I had last time, without an explanation. I owed him one this time; I owed myself the same. We’d hurt each other. Him with what he’d said. Me with what I hadn’t. We were really damn good at hurting each other, and while one part of me knew that those hurts only stung so badly because we cared about each other so much, another part of me questioned why love would be so painful.
I didn’t knock when I reached the top of the stairs. Canaan didn’t keep his door locked—probably had something to do with people knowing he could kick anyone’s ass if they tried breaking in—so I opened the door and stepped inside. The apartment was dark, the faint scent of his soap lingering in the air from the shower he’d taken earlier. The bed was still unmade from the night before, the nightgown I’d been wearing kicked to the end of the bed. Everything was neat and tidy except for the bed, almost like he didn’t want to mess with that memory.
As I moved toward where I’d stationed my easel, the half-finished portrait still resting on it, I couldn’t help noticing those empty spaces on the walls where hangers had been hammered in. At some time, he’d had something in those places.
After folding up my easel and resting it and the painting on the dining table, I moved toward the bathroom to retrieve the brushes I’d cleaned out and left drying in there. As I passed the closet in the hallway, I noticed something behind the cracked open door.
Coming to a stop, I pulled the door open, confusion breaking over me. They were paintings. My paintings. Some of the very first ones I’d ever completed and put up for sale in Chicago. I knew that.
What I didn’t know was how they’d wound up in Canaan’s hall closet. Although those blank spaces on the walls made more sense now. They’d been hanging up, but he’d taken them down. Realizations rained down on me, one after the other, until I couldn’t stay still any longer.
Rushing out of the apartment, I’d already fished my car keys out of my purse before I’d made it down the stairs. I couldn’t think here. There were too many memories blocking new thoughts from forming.
As soon as I was in the car, I whipped out of the driveway and turned down road after road. I had no idea where I was going, just that I needed to get there. It wasn’t until I’d turned into the parking area that I realized where I was.
The pond.
When I stepped out of the car, the cool air coated my skin like a healing salve. I was able to breathe again, my mind able to function. I took the same path down to the pond I’d taken with Canaan when he’d brought me here. The same trail we’d taken as kids. Probably the same trail Asher had taken that winter he’d visited and never left.
Tonight, everything felt different than it had when I’d been with Canaan. There was more moonlight, so the pond didn’t look black, but more dark blue with stripes of silver cutting through it. It didn’t look still and sinister as bugs touched down and fish kissed the surface, forming ripples.
Before, this place had felt dead. Tonight, it felt alive.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, in the same place I’d been with Canaan when I’d learned the truth of Asher’s death. It was the perfect thinking spot, the one place on the planet I’d been searching for. All the answers had been waiting for me here all along.
It could have been hours before I noticed the sound of brush moving behind me, the thud of footsteps breaking over soft earth. I didn’t spin around to see who’d happened upon my sanctuary—I already knew.
“Leaving you . . .” Canaan’s voice stirred the stillness as he came to a stop. “I can’t do it. You can leave me as many times as you want, but I won’t ever leave you, Maggie. It’s not in me to do the leaving when it comes to you.”
My face pinched when I saw his. Reed hadn’t held ba
ck, and Canaan hadn’t backed down. “That looks painful.”
He moved a step off the trail toward me, stopping like he wasn’t sure if he should come any closer. “It not my face that hurts.”
He was holding something, but I couldn’t see what. He still had on the same blood-stained shirt from earlier, one of his eyes totally sealed shut. The cuts on his face had stopped bleeding, but the scabs that sealed them didn’t appear any less gruesome.
“I’m sorry for what I said back there. When I saw him looking at you the way he was, knowing he was the one you’d been with the past couple years . . .” Canaan’s good eye narrowed as he stared at the water. “I let my anger take control. I let it come between us again.”
My sandal toed the earth in front of me. “You weren’t the only one.”
“I know you’re not something to own or possess or an item that can transfer ownership. God, I know that.” When he rolled his neck, it cracked. “But that doesn’t change that some sick part of me still wants to be able to look at you and call you mine.”
Scooting over, I patted the patch of ground I’d packed down over the past couple of hours. “That doesn’t sound that sick to me.”
“Sad then?”
I inhaled. “Honest. It sounds honest.”
Canaan moved closer, one hesitant step at a time. He stood beside me for a moment, like he was testing that his proximity was okay, before he kneeled beside me. Once he was next to me, the night seemed to grow a tad bit brighter. Less impenetrable.
“I found the paintings.”
He didn’t look surprised. He just nodded as though he’d been expecting it. “Guess I could have saved myself the time of taking them down then.”
My head turned toward him. His face looked so much worse up close, but still, not half as bad as I’d seen it before. “Why do you have them?”
His throat cleared. “Because I bought them.”
“Those were the very first paintings I ever sold.”