She looks back at me and then at the doors, but still stands there with her arms crossed. We are both frozen in our stubborn stance when she finally speaks.
“The last time I came to those doors I was five months pregnant with your son. I didn’t tell Lucias I was pregnant. I just told him I needed to see you. I thought you should’ve heard that from me, and truthfully, I didn’t want you to be with me because you felt obliged. When I said I needed to see you, Lucias told me to disappear and leave you alone because it was for the best. I didn’t need anything from you, but I thought you deserved to know. Making the decision to leave you that day and to raise our baby on my own was the hardest decision I’ve ever made in my life. So I’m sorry if I’m not super eager to bust in there and pretend like everything between us is fine.”
“Jesus, Julie. No one ever told me. I swear. Back then, fuck, I was a mess. Just hearing your name sent me on a bender for weeks. I drank and did drugs to try to make the pain go away. I did everything I could to forget us and how goddamn much I loved you. But nothing worked. Please, Julie, please. Just come inside with me and talk. It’s the one place I can keep you safe, and we need to get some shit between us straight. You don’t have to forgive me, but putting them on tells everyone you’re mine, and it’s the only way you can get inside.”
“Fine. Let’s get it over with.”
She leans forward a little, and I put the chain over her white blonde curls, around her neck. Once they hang in place over her heart, I feel something inside me settle. Something I didn’t even know was there.
I take her hand, and she lets me lead her through the doors and into the club. The main room is huge, and a few people are hanging out playing pool. There’s a long bar across one wall, and on the other side are couches facing a bank of tvs. No sweet butts are allowed in the clubhouse because they stir up shit, and Pres only wants people he can fully trust behind these walls, so on a Saturday night it’s not too packed. A few of the old ladies like to party, and some of the guys don’t mind sharing, so it can still get a bit rowdy, even with only a handful of people. Thankfully it’s a quiet night, and I just keep walking through to the back stairwell.
The house is spread out over a couple of floors, the top one is half mine and half Pres’s. He wanted us to live at the club to be close to everything at all times. Casper and Scribe have their own places, but they each have a room here to crash in case shit goes down. Pres and I live here full time since we both work at the garage on the other side of the compound, and aren’t interested in tagging pussy.
I hold her hand as we climb, only letting go to reach into my pocket for my keys. I grab her hand again and pull her into my space, a little nervous about showing her my place. We walk through the door, I lock it behind us, and she stands there and looks around.
I feel my cheeks heat a little, knowing what she’s looking at. The place is small, but it’s set up as an apartment with a living space, kitchen, and bedroom with an attached bath. It’s nothing over the top, but it’s clean and private. I’ve never let anyone in here before, so I decorated it the way I wanted to.
“Abraham,” she whispers, and my face reddens further. “Why?”
“Because this was the only way I could have you.” On every wall in my home, there’s a picture of Julie. A few of them are of us before the accident, but the biggest one is of our wedding day.
“After Vegas, I lost it. I started drinking until I blacked out, doing drugs, anything to numb the way I felt. I thought that night was the end of me, and I was running away from everything that I loved to finish my life as fast as I could. I had nothing left to live for after that night. After a few months, I decided to end it all, and I drove out to the river with a pistol. I was there, thinking about how I couldn’t have you and how nothing in my head would ever be right, when Mac showed up. She told me how she knew what it felt like to hate yourself, and how if I ended my life, it wouldn’t fix the wrong I’d done. She told me if I spent the rest of my life trying to make it right, then it was a life worth living. I didn’t know if I could ever have you again, but I could have this.”
I open my arms and gesture around the place covered in her smiles and laughter.
“And this was worth living for. If I got to wake up every day and see your face, even if it was just a picture, it was a day worth living. I hoped one day that I could make it back to you, and fix the wrong I’d done. I was trying to find the perfect moment, but there didn’t ever seem to be one. Tonight I was pushed to act faster, I had someone watching you, only telling me if you were okay. I didn’t know where you were or what you were up to. Tonight I asked where you were so I could find you and start my apology. I wanted to start to make right what I did to you, but hearing where you were, and how you were tangled up, sent me over the edge. I couldn’t wait any longer, and I needed to have you by my side.”