Page 82 of Desperate Haste
“How…how are you?” I ask. He looks better, brighter. But I thought he looked better once before and it turns out he was just doped up on drugs and putting on a good show.
“Thinking clearer. I definitely have more work to do, but I’m working on it.”
“How?”
His eyebrows furrowed in the center of his forehead. “How?”
“Yes, how.Howare you working on it?”
He rubs the back of his neck and looks around me into my condo. “Can I come in?” I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should, but then open the door and wave my arm for him to enter.
“You can sit down, you know?” I offer slowly, unsure of what his next move will be. The air between us is thick and uncomfortable. I missed him like crazy while he was gone, but now that he’s standing right in front of me, it’s like I’m not sure if I want to grab his face and kiss him or run and hide under my covers until he leaves.
Instead of sitting on my couch, he opts to sit in one of the chairs at my dinette set that I used to share a morning coffee over with Bailey. I haven’t sat at the table for weeks, choosing to rot on my couch and eat there instead, but I sink into the chair across from him. When we’re both seated, I clear my throat and glance around, wishing with everything in me that this awkwardness between us would just disappear.
“Ophelia—”
“Malcolm—”
We both speak at the same time and let out uncomfortable laughs when we speak over one another.
“You go,” I say, nodding at him and he nods back with a tight smile.
“You asked me how I’m working on it. On things. On me,” he tumbles through his words. “Well for starters, I’m going to N.A. meetings three times a week and checking in with my sponsor daily, per his demands. The guy is a fucking drill sergeant compared to my last one.” I smile at the mention of his new sponsor, knowing good and well what Reese has planned for him. “I’m also continuing with out-patient therapy at the rehab center. I really connected with one of the therapists there and he offered to keep seeing me. Mondays are my new head-shrinking days.” He chuckles and I can’t help but smile a little wider.
“I’m also hiring a second manager for Butcher and Block. I can’t run it on my own and I realized while I was gone that I was trying to do something Marshall wasn’t even doing himself. I had convinced myself that he could run the place all on his own but forgot to account for the fact thatIdid a lot of his work for him. So, once I go back to work next week, I’ll be looking to hire a second pair of hands.”
“I think you should consider Alice. She’s been amazing the last few weeks and I think she would really enjoy the work. You’d have to hire a bartender but that might be easier than finding a manager.”
His chin drops as he looks at me with a knowing smirk. “And how would you know that?”
“Someone had to make sure the place didn’t go up in flames while you were gone.” I shrug, trying to dampen the true reason I looked after the bar. I avoid his gaze and flit my eyes around the room before succumbing to my need to look at him. When I finally bring my eyes to him, he’s leaning over the table and smirking at me.
“You took care of the bar for me?” he questions, his voice tipping up at the end.
“It didn’t mean anything,” I huff, rolling my eyes into the back of my head.Liar.
“Are you sure about that, princess?” A tingle runs across my skin as he hums out the nickname I used to hate. My eyes turn into slits as I glare at him from my seat.
“I’ll have you know, I did it for Marshall. He asked me to watch out for you and I didn’t want to let him down.” His body deflates just enough for me to see when I mention Marshall’s name but I continue anyway. “Besides, there’s good people who work there. If no one stepped up, they all would have been out of a job.” I try to justify to him. He’s nodding his head, annoyingly I might add, and I want to reach across the table and wipe his stupid smile off his face. Or kiss it. Or both.
Definitely both.
“I appreciate you doing that for us. I appreciate all the things you do.”
My arms are still crossed over my chest like a protective wall and when I wrap them tighter around me, I feel Marshall’s ring get warmer against my chest. Almost as if he can feel it too, Malcolm points to it.
“Can I see that for a second?”
“Of course, it’s your ring. You said you’d come back for it. You’re back, it makes sense that you’re here for it.” I undo the simple chain I’d worn the ring on and slip it off before handing it over to him. My heart quickens when our fingers brush over the top of the table and I snap my hand away from him, quickly putting up my defenses again.
He turns the ring over and seems to be studying it but I’m not sure why. Then, he spots something and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen him crack explodes across his face. Tears well up in his eyes—another first—as he spins the ring in a circle between his fingers.
“That son of a bitch,” he murmurs before looking at me through misty eyes. Sensing my confusion, he stands from his chair and comes to kneel next to me. Holding the ring at an angle, he reveals an inscription on the inside of the metal band.
Always in your corner.
“It’s something he always said to me as a way to remind me that I wasn’t alone. It was kind of our way of saying ‘I love you’ to each other.”
