The Maddox Brothers: Beautiful Burn Part 43

Tyler looked like the air had been knocked out of him. He shrugged. "What am I supposed to say to that? You keep knocking me down and I keep getting back up, thinking one of these times you'll stop throwing punches. I love you. And I know you love me, but ... I'm not a punching bag. I don't know how much more I can take."

"It's not up to you to save me. I have to do it myself. Somewhere else."

He blanched. "What are you talking about?"

A black car pulled up, and the driver stepped out. "Miss Edson?"

I nodded.

Tyler frowned. "Who the f.u.c.k is that?"

"My ride."

"I can take you. Where are you going?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Who is he? Does he work for your parents?"

"Not exactly," I said. Sally knew as well as I did that my parents would pay for any ride taking me to rehab.

I pulled off his jacket, but he held out his hand. "Keep it. Bring it back to me when you come home."

I reached for his face, leaning up on the b.a.l.l.s of my feet to kiss him, and he threw his arms around me, closing his eyes tight and holding me like it was the last time.

"Come back," he said against my lips, keeping his eyes closed.

"What if I come back different? What if it takes a long time?"

He shook his head. "I've loved every version of you there's ever been. I'll love whoever comes back."

My face crumbled, and I nodded, waving goodbye.

The driver stood next to his car, opening the door when he saw me heading toward him. He shut the door as I slid into the backseat. The leather and new car smell reminded me of my other life, of the old Ellison who wouldn't have noticed that she was dirty while the car was so clean. I didn't belong in that car, or that life, but there I sat, willing to submit so that I could fully heal.

"Buckle up, Miss Edson," the driver said. "We have a long drive."

I nodded, reaching for the shoulder strap and pulling it across. I wasn't sure where the driver was taking me, but I cried the whole way there.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

The cold stone railing felt good against my palms as I steadied myself on the balcony of my private room. The ocean was calm that day, finally settled after a week of storms. The waves calmed me at night, and the salt in the air made me feel safe, but I was leaving. I still had to face my sister, and Tyler, and the boys. I had apologies to make, and a lot more work to do.

A soft knock prompted me to walk across the marble floor. I tightened the belt of my cream silk robe and reached for the bra.s.s handle. My stay at Pa.s.sages was like a luxury vacation. When I first arrived, I thought it was another attempt for my family to buy my sobriety, but I had learned so much, and changed even more. My heart was healed and my soul was at ease-at least in the confines of the walls of the most luxurious rehabilitation center in the world.

Sally walked in with my counselor, Barb, holding a cupcake and a certificate. Sally winked at me, aware of how lame the certificate was, but it meant that I was going home. She hugged me, her genuine pride evident in her embrace. We had spent a lot of late nights in private talks during my sixty-day stay, and she had somehow convinced my parents to respect my boundaries while supporting my rehabilitation with grace and money, even though their demands to see me were repeatedly refused.

Barb had already filled out the discharge papers, and handed me a pen. I read over the large print and small print, and then signed. Sally patted my right hand as I scribbled with my left, and then I said my goodbyes to Barb.

When my counselor left the room, Sally shot me her signature lips-pressed-together smile, pride practically radiating from her hooded eyes. Sally wasn't at all the snake in the gra.s.s I had thought her to be. Now that I was sober, it was easier to see people for who they really were. A clear head helped to distinguish who wanted the best for me and would fight me to reach that goal, and those who had good intentions but would be the first to enable me-like my parents. I wasn't strong enough to see them yet, and even though it was hard to take anything from them knowing the damage I'd caused our family, I was committed to my sobriety, and their support would mean the difference between success and a relapse. I had to swallow my pride and accept any helpful support those who loved me would give.

Sally rode with me to the airport, and then hugged me goodbye with a promise to check in often. I fought my resentment about riding in first-cla.s.s, wearing new clothes and the expensive perfume Finley had sent me. I was so far from the sloppy drunk I had been just two months before, and even the ash-covered, smelly adventure photographer I loved to be, but everything looked different sober, even me.

Just as the plane taxied to the runway, my phone lit up, and Finley's face kissing at me shone bright on the display.

She had come to Pa.s.sages just once, long enough for us to have a three-hour counseling session and dinner. She'd tearfully admitted to me that she'd walked past Falyn into the apartment, seeing a picture of me on the nightstand and a.s.suming it was Tyler she was crawling into bed with. She recalled him calling her Falyn when she settled into the bed, but she was so jealous and hurt she could only think of retaliation. She was too ashamed to speak to me after that-until the day she sat in a beautiful room with beautiful flowers, marble floors, and expensive paintings chosen to promote calm and comfort while our ugliest sins spilled from our mouths.

"h.e.l.lo?" I said, holding the phone to my ear. "Getting ready to take off, Fin."

"You should call Tyler. He's a little anxious."

"That makes two of us."

"He wants to see you."

"I want to see him, too. I'm just not sure if it should be tonight."

"He wants to pick you up from the airport. Jose can do it. It's completely up to you."

"I'm a recovering alcoholic, Fin, not a child."

"I'm sorry. I'll tell Jose to meet you in baggage claim at seven-thirty."

"It's okay. Driving from Denver will make for a nice chat."

"With Tyler?" she asked.

"Yes. I have to go, Fin. I love you."

"I love you, too, Elliebee."

I pressed END and placed my phone in the console between me and the older gentleman in a Prada suit and eyegla.s.ses. He reminded me a bit of Stavros, the bartender from the Colorado Springs hotel, with his silver hair and style. As the plane took off, I thought about my last moments with Tyler, the choices that I had spent sixty days trying to let go, and the way Tyler had looked at me. I wondered if he would see me that way, as the weak, lost little girl he had to babysit. Ellie three-point-oh was neither weak nor lost, but she was carrying a lot of guilt and not enough forgiveness.

When the wheels set down in Denver, my head fell forward, my chin sliding off my fist. I smacked my lips, taking a sip of water as the flight attendant began her speech about disembarkation procedures. Once the plane came to a full stop and a bell chimed over the PA system, seat belts clacked in quick succession, sounding like the clicking of a keyboard, and then the rustle of everyone standing at the same time resonated throughout the fuselage. I had checked all of my belongings, so I squeaked past the silver-haired businessman and stood in the aisle, waiting for the door to open.

The walk up the jetway seemed longer than usual, as did the train ride to the baggage claim terminal. Everything felt different-I felt different. When I reached the escalator and ascended to baggage claim, I saw Tyler standing at the bottom, getting shouldered and nudged by people getting off the stairs and pa.s.sing by. He looked up at me, never pulling his gaze away until I was standing in front of him.

"Hi," he said, nervous.

"Thanks for coming all the way here to pick me up."

"I've been everywhere and called everyone to find out where you went. I was going to be here when you came home."

Someone pushed from the back, forcing me to take a step forward.

"Hey," Tyler said, pus.h.i.+ng the guy back. He guided me farther away from the top of the escalator, and the warmth of his fingers on my skin made me more emotional than I'd antic.i.p.ated. "I didn't realize two months could feel like such a long time."

"Probably because you didn't have a coat," I said, handing him his jacket.

He looked down at the fabric in his hands. "I'd forgotten about the coat. Couldn't forget about you."

"Just needed some time to get my s.h.i.+t straight," I said.

Tyler smiled, seeming relieved at my choice of words. I was wearing the cream dress and tall, high-heeled suede boots Finley had sent. My hair fell in soft waves to the middle of my back, smoke free and clean. I looked very different from the last time he'd seen me, but he appeared rea.s.sured that I at least sounded the same.

The conveyor belt buzzed, alerting the pa.s.sengers from the flight just before it began to move. They crowded around the baggage carousel.

"Here," Tyler said, taking me by the hand and leading me closer. Bags were already tumbling to the long oval that surrounded the chute. My bag was the third, the handle wrapped in a bright red priority tag.

Tyler lifted the large luggage without effort, then extended the handle. "It's a hike," he said, apologetic.

"We've hiked together before."

"Yes, we have," he said with a smile. He was still nervous, quiet, as we made the journey to the parking garage. Denver International wasn't the easiest airport to navigate, but Tyler was focused, getting me to his truck as quickly as he could.

Once he loaded my bag into the back seat, he opened my door and helped me climb in. My high-heeled boots made it difficult, but with one arm, Tyler lifted me into my seat.

He jogged around, hopped into his seat, and twisted the key in the ignition. He fussed with the air conditioner and then looked to me for approval.

"Yes, it's good ... I'm fine."

Tyler backed out and navigated the maze of the parking garage until we saw daylight.

"So, uh," he began. "Guess who's going to be a daddy?"

I craned my neck at him, bracing myself.

"No! Oh f.u.c.k, no, not me. Taylor," he said, laughing nervously. "Taylor's going to be a daddy. I'm gonna be an uncle."

I breathed out. "Great! That's great. How exciting. Jim must be thrilled."

"Yeah, he's pretty stoked."

I nodded, turning toward the window and closing my eyes, exhaling slowly. I'd been looking forward to seeing him for so long, and not knowing what to expect, I was already emotional and feeling frazzled. I tried to do the breathing exercises I'd learned while away.

The tires buzzed against the road, the tone sounding a bit higher when we reached the highway and Tyler kicked up the speed. Waiting for him to have the inevitable conversation about my sudden departure was too much pressure, so I decided to do it myself.

"Tyler..."

"Wait," he said, wringing his hands on the steering wheel. "Let me explain."

I swallowed, worried that it was going to be much worse than I had imagined the last eight weeks. Tyler had cast me aside, left me, broken my heart, and yelled at me a thousand different ways in my dreams. Now, all he had to do was show me which one would be our reality.

"I was p.i.s.sed. I admit it," he began. "But I didn't know you'd gotten on a f.u.c.king plane. I'm an unbelievable d.i.c.k, Ellie. I didn't realize you were in such a low place. I don't know what we're doing, but if it's just friends with benefits, I can't even call myself a good friend. I should have seen it. I should have known."

"How?" I said. "I didn't even know."

He was fidgeting, taking off his ball cap and pulling it low over his head, then lifting it again so he could properly see to drive. He rubbed the back of his neck, s.h.i.+fted in his seat, and adjusted the radio.

"Tyler," I said. "Just say it. If it's too much for you, I get it. It's not your fault. I put you through a lot."

He turned, shooting a glare in my direction, and then he pulled the truck over onto the shoulder of the highway, shoving the gears.h.i.+ft into park.

"You wind up on the filthy floor of a gas station bathroom. You kiss me goodbye, and then you just f.u.c.king disappear. I've been stuck on a mountain, worried sick, Ellison. I had no way to get to you, no way to call around to find out if you were even alive, and even then, I didn't sleep because every phone call I made led nowhere."

I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry. I've done a lot of selfish things, and I owe you more than one apology."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have left you at the apartment. I saw you struggling. You've been struggling for a while. I've taken you to a f.u.c.king bar, I pulled some strings to get you out of jail because you were drunk and looking for the fire, I've taken you to parties, and knew you were spiking your coffee at work ... I'm your friend first, Ellie, and I've failed you on every level."

Barb had explained to me the hurricane I would walk into when I was released from Pa.s.sages. I wouldn't only have to navigate my own guilt, but the guilt of everyone who loved me as well.

"Tyler, stop. We both know you couldn't have stopped me if you wanted. I had to be the one to make the decision, and you loved me right up until I did."

His warm brown eyes were glossed over, full of desperation. "We were both messed up the night we met, but the more time I spent with you, the more normal I felt."

I breathed out a laugh. "Me, too."

He paled, reaching for the glove box. He popped it open, clutching a small, dark red box. "Open it."

The box creaked open, and I exhaled, searching for words that never came.

"You know what it's like up on the mountain. Even when I'm digging ditches, there's a lot of time to think. When Jojo told me you were coming home ... I went straight to the jeweler's. I can't imagine anything else but being with you and coming home to you and ... Ellie, will you-"

"This is a lot my first day back."

He nodded a few times, and then s.n.a.t.c.hed the box from me. He faced forward, hitting his steering wheel with the heel of his hand. "G.o.dd.a.m.n it! I wasn't going to say that. I told myself a hundred times on the way here not to tell you. You don't need this right now. You just got home, and I'm throwing all this heavy s.h.i.+t at you."

My chest felt tight. "I've put you through h.e.l.l," I said, sinking into guilt so deeply I wasn't sure I could crawl out.

He looked up at me. "If you're the fire, Ellie ... I'll burn."

A tear tumbled over my cheek, and I could see him waiting for me to decide what my tears meant. I reached for him, and he pulled me over the console into his lap, wrapping his arms around me and planting tiny pecks on my neck and cheek until he reached my mouth.

His hands cupped each side of my jaw, and he kissed me deep and slow, telling me he loved me without saying anything at all.

He pulled back, touching his forehead to mine, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with every quick breath. He looked up at me, his eyebrows pulling in, but before he could ask, I blurted out the answer.

"Yes."

"Really?" he asked with a small, hopeful smile.

"But," I began. His face fell, the hope in his eyes extinguished. "I have a lot of things I need to work on. I'm going to need a lot of time, and a lot of patience."