Worlds Collide (Fan Service #6)

24. CJ

TWENTY-FOUR

CJ

I pour two more cups of coffee as Hawk continues his story of what’s happened the last couple of weeks.

“Wait,” I interrupt when he takes a breath. “If you just set all these limits, then aren’t you technically breaking, or like, infringing one of them by coming here?” I ask, confused.

“No, because Wolf asked me to come here after what happened yesterday morning.”

“And will you tell me what happened?” I ask, risking him going into another incredibly detailed story on his way to the point of his visit.

“Yes!” he shouts excitedly, and I spill just a little coffee on the counter from how suddenly loud he gets. “So, I went back there yesterday, on Friday,” he speaks quickly now. “And we had another therapy session. Lots of tears, blah, blah, blah, and when I was leaving there was a man who said he had a package he had to hand deliver to Wolf. Of course Wolf couldn’t receive it but he agreed to give it to me, so I went back in with the envelope in my hand and Wolf opened it and it was this.” He shoves his hand into his jacket pocket and takes out a slightly crinkled piece of thick paper.

My mouth drops open the second I see the familiar handwriting.

We warned you.

That’s all it says, but I have no doubt that my mother wrote it, and that she’s referring to when they told Wolf he should stay away from me—which he has, so what the fuck?

“Wolfie told me it was probably from your mom, and that it would be nothing to worry about, but less than ten minutes later Tristan—you know Tristan is our PR guy, right?” He keeps talking urgently and I do my best to nod at the appropriate moments. “So Tristan calls us and says a magazine is running Wolf’s rehab story in the morning and that there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

“And Wolf told you not to do anything to stop it if it happened,” I remember.

“Exactly, that’s not the issue here. The thing is we’re pretty sure your parents sent in the story.”

“How would they—” I stop talking when I realize. “It doesn’t matter how. They have connections everywhere because everyone is used to fearing them.” I deflate on the couch next to Hawk. “That’s absolutely her handwriting,” I say with one hundred percent certainty. “Wolf could get a restraining order,” I muse out loud.

“Not until he gets out of rehab.” I cover my mouth to stop myself from saying anything about that. “Anyway, Wolf wanted me to bring you the note so you know what’s going on and you can do whatever you want about it. He told me to say this to you word for word.” Hawk gets out his phone and reads from it. “He just wants you to know about it and know that Wolf won’t say or do anything to them.”

“Okay.” I breathe out the word, then lean back and massage my temples. I have no idea what to do with all this information. Then an unrelated thought pops into my head and I let it distract me from my parents—there’s not much I can do at three in the morning anyway. “So wait, did Derek and Wolf make up?”

“No,” Hawk says sadly and shakes his head. “Dee had to come back for practice and to prepare for Sunday’s game. I’m scared they’re just never going to want to talk to each other again. And that there’s nothing I’ll ever be able to do about it.”

“You’ve talked to both of them about it, haven’t you?” I demand.

“Of course I have. But Wolfie said no more meddling in his business, and this is absolutely his business, and Dee’s, so I just can’t interfere anymore.”

“You’re right,” I concede, then I decide it’s best I just go to sleep now because otherwise I’m going to ask way too many questions about Wolf and I can’t do that. I need to get over him. He left me, and he hasn’t called, and the message he sent with his brother didn’t say anything about us . He hasn’t asked me to go see him, and probably never wants to see me again.

“It really wasn’t your fault,” Hawk says quietly. I turn to look at him, wondering what he’s talking about. “Wolf relapsing,” he clarifies. “It wasn’t your fault. He never accepted that he has a problem, not until now. There’s nothing you could’ve done differently.”

His words sting and they alleviate some pressure at the same time.

I could never have had an impact on him, and I also have nothing to feel guilty about. My pushiness didn’t cause this.

“I’m going to sleep,” I decide.

“Yeah, me too,” Hawk agrees and stands. Our coffees stay untouched as I walk him to the guest bedroom.

I wish him goodnight and when I close my eyes, all I see is Wolf. Illuminated by the Italian sun, with his long hair blowing in the wind, and a small, content smile gracing his lips.

“It’s out?” Hawk asks as he walks into the kitchen. He rubs his eyes and looks frankly adorable, all sleepy-eyed and yawning.

I nod at him and look back down at my phone screen where I’m reading the relatively short article.

“Just a few minutes ago.”

“You couldn’t sleep either?” he asks as he passes by me to pour himself some coffee.

“No,” I confirm. “Where is your husband?” I ask, doing my best to steer clear of the topic of Wolf.

“In Chicago this week,” he mumbles. “What does it say?” He nods down at my phone.

“That he’s in rehab, but it doesn’t say where exactly, how long he’s been there, or that it’s the second time.”

“That’s surprising,” Hawk muses with raised eyebrows. “What’s the whole thing about then?”

I wince and turn the phone so he can see. “They put a bunch of pictures of Wolf at parties with bottles of beer in his hand.”

“Yeah, they’re trying to figure out when the problem started.” He just shakes his head and goes back to drowning his coffee in creamer. “Trash goblins, that’s what those reporters are.” I smile at the venom in his voice. Clearly, Wolf isn’t the only protective brother.

“You want to go get some breakfast?” Maybe if we’re doing something else then I’ll stop wanting to be next to Wolf today. He can’t be enjoying that the world knows... I mean, he told Hawk not to stop it, but still, it’s pretty shitty that they’re now going through old pictures of him with a fine-tooth comb.

“I promised Derek’s mom I’d have brunch with her today,” Hawk tells me with an apologetic wince. “Now I know paparazzi are going to be following me all day,” he grumbles. “So maybe we’ll have brunch at her place.” Suddenly bright as sunshine, he turns to me and goes in for a hug. A long, hard hug. “I really am sorry, CJ.”

“Me too,” I whisper and hug him back. “And I’m sorry about my parents. I’m going to see if I can find anything that my mother’s written on before and?—”

“Wolf said he won’t do anything unless you want him to,” he reminds me as he steps back. The earnest look in his gray eyes has me swallowing hard. There’s only one time Wolf’s eyes looked like that at me, and it was after he met my parents.

Which has me thinking . . .

“Did he tell you about my parents?”

“Not really, just that he met them and that you don’t like them.” Then he smirks devilishly up at me. “He said, and I quote, ‘Those assholes don’t deserve to call CJ son,’ then got even growlier than usual.”

Then why did he leave me right when I needed him the most?

Because despite liking me, despite even feeling protective of me, Wolf doesn’t want to be with me. So it’s time I let go. For good now.

“I’ll see what I can find and let you know.”

“Okay.” Hawk swallows hard then stands a bit taller. “What are you going to do now? You’ve still got some time before going back to work, right?”

“Yeah.” I sigh as I turn away and run a hand through my hair, then I grab my cup and drink. “I’ll figure something out. ”

Suddenly I need to be alone. I need Hawk to leave.

“In any case,” I say with a smile I don’t mean. “Gracie’s sleeping and there shouldn’t be any noise to wake her, otherwise...” I trail off and Hawk nods wisely.

“Dee’s the same,” he whispers. “I’ll get going now. I told Tate I was staying here last night but he’s probably ready to get me somewhere he knows.”

“Right.” I nod and only a few minutes later, I get my wish. I’m completely alone. Yeah, Gracie’s just in the other room, but she won’t wake up for hours.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

For the next month I find myself discovering a million new things. I download a stupid game to my phone that I quickly become addicted to, and I study a lot so I don’t get fired as soon as I’m back at work. I also spend as much time as I can researching addiction and its only known “cure”—the twelve-step program. I spend hours on the beach just looking at the ocean, watch countless shows, and reread the Harry Potter books—and find out I’m a Huffelpuff. I even recruit Adam’s assistant’s help to find my mother’s handwriting somewhere among the piles of boxes that get delivered to the brownstone once the Dallas house sells in the second week of November.

Turns out my mother loves making albums about events she’s planned—not a single childhood picture of me was found in the fifteen-room mansion, but pictures of charity galas? At least hundreds.

Turns out that in the first page of one of those albums she stuck a note where she explains what the album is... which means we have proof. She even signed it. I text Hawk as soon as I find out, letting him know all about it, and only get a “Great!” in response, which is as anticlimactic as it sounds .

I go to San Francisco for a week when Adam has a game against the Niners, and spend Thanksgiving thinking about what Wolf must be doing that day, and trying to focus on Kevin and Elliott and their exciting plans for the future. Peter pulls me aside and lets me read an early copy of his latest novel, and I love every second I get to spend talking to him about it afterwards.

In all those weeks I don’t get a single call from my parents, just like I don’t get a single call from Wolf—one I annoyingly keep expecting for some stupid reason.

By the time December rolls around, I’m laser focused on the day when I can finally go back to work. Dr. Yang calls and lets me know I’m welcome back on the fourteenth, and I’m beyond ready to get out of my apartment.

But apparently I’m not done with the surprises this year, because just one day before going back to work, I open the door expecting my Chinese takeout, only to find Wolf—holding my takeout.

“The delivery guy gave it to me.” He holds it up like I’m going to need the visuals to understand what he’s talking about.

“Did you tip him?” is the first thing out of my mouth for some reason.

“Of course. Don’t want you to get a bad rep,” he answers automatically with a face that screams “are you crazy?” and all of it just... fuck, it disarms me completely. I hold the door open and nod for him to come in.

I have no idea what he’s doing here or if he just got out of rehab—I have no idea how long the program takes and Hawk definitely didn’t offer up any details about it. I don’t know what I’m going to do if he asks me to try again with him...

I want to, of course I want to be with him, but the way he ran away from me— so many times —is daunting. I don’t want to chase him forever, and I’m still pretty mad about the way he left me in Como. And let’s be honest, about the fact that he didn’t call me once while he was in rehab.

I would’ve gone to see him. I would’ve helped or—fuck, I don’t know what I could’ve possibly done but I could’ve been there. He didn’t let me, he?—

“I came here to apologize.” His voice brings me back to the present. To the surreal picture he makes sitting on the same couch where I’ve spent countless hours, with Chinese takeout containers in front of him. And I’m still standing by the open door.

I close it, maybe a bit too forcibly, and walk over to the armchair. I couldn’t possibly sit next to him right now.

“For what?” I ask him as I lower myself to the cushion.

“For leaving without waking you up.”

I can only nod. I’ve thought a million times about what would’ve happened if he’d woken me up. I’m still not sure what I would’ve done.

“And for running away before, the first time.” He keeps going. “I’m sorry I assumed your life was perfect and acted like that would be something to mock you about. I’m sorry I let my jealousy of that take over, and that I acted that way because I couldn’t handle how much I wanted you.

“Like everyone else, I thought you were straight. I was sure I’d never have a shot with you, and that...” He trails off, looks down at his lap, and shakes his head. I can only stare in disbelief. He’s... talking a lot. “Well, I wasn’t really equipped to handle that anger, process it, and let it go. I took it out on you and I’m really sorry about that. I regret that more than you can know.”

I can’t speak for the longest time. This is exactly the apology I never thought I would get, but it’s so much more.

“I don’t want you to apologize for that,” I whisper. “I—” I clear my throat, this isn’t something I’m ever going to admit to another human except him, because it’s embarrassing, but it’s also the truth. After everything that’s happened, the least I can do is be honest with him. “I liked the attention.” I shrug, and can’t keep looking at him when he looks up sharply and right into my eyes. “All my life I had attention for all the wrong reasons, but never from those who I really wanted it from. I had Adam and his family, and they’re my family.” I take a moment to nod, because it’s the truth, that’s exactly what they are. “But with everyone in our friends group, I never really had anyone’s attention for long, so it felt nice,” I whisper and the last word is barely audible.

There’s another long beat of silence. I’m pretty sure we just don’t know what to say. I don’t know what the hell I want, but maybe?—

“Oh, and thank you. For apologizing for leaving.” I nod and finally look at him. He smiles softly, and there’s something very different about him, but I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is. Maybe it’s that he seems less... haunted? That could be it I guess. But now what do I say? Is there anything more to say? Or is this just it? Oh, wait! “I told your brother that I found?—”

“I figured out a lot of shit in rehab.” He speaks at the same time as me and stops at the same time as me. I nod for him to go on. Despite everything, I do want to know how he’s doing. “One of the things was that I’ve been very unhappy for a long time, and that I need to find a way to be happy again. By myself.”

I try not to let it show how his words pierce me, but I’m not sure I’m successful by the way Wolf winces.

“That makes sense,” I tell him quietly.

“I need to be away from Hawk and Derek too, for a while—not forever. But I just need to.”

“Okay.” I nod, thinking there’s more by the tone of his voice .

“So, I’m moving to New York. For a year at least.”

Everything inside me freezes. I knew I wasn’t going to see him every other day, but moving to the other side of the country? There’s no way I’ll ever see him.

Fuck. I haven’t even begun to process it when he just keeps talking.

“I need to be alone and figure out a lot of things about myself, CJ,” he tells me almost like he’s begging me to understand. I nod, not wanting him to think I have anything against this.

Of course I don’t want the man I’m still in love with to live so far away from me, but I do understand it. I wish—goddammit, I wish I could go with him, but isn’t what he just said the same thing that I wanted for myself after I got the trust fund?

All my life I’d been someone with an assigned personality, wardrobe, job, dreams.

None of those were mine, and when I got the chance to finally figure it out on my own, I immediately attached myself to Wolf.

So yeah, I understand.

Does it make me want to run away so he won’t see me fight off tears? You bet it does. But that—shit. I stand quickly and mutter an apology. “Excuse me please, I’ll be right back.”

I go into my bedroom and lean against the closed door. Breathe in, breathe out, and repeat about a million times.

I can get through this.