I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, ran the soap over my body, and growled at myself as I finished showering. I shut off the water, reached for my towel, and dried off before stepping onto my bathmat.
The fucking gall of her to look at me as if she had seen a ghost. How dare she look at me as if I would hurt her? She was the one who had ruined everything. Had taken precious time and energy from Jonah. My baby brother hadn’t needed her complications. But she had seemed to want the fucking limelight and hadn’t allowed me the time I needed with my brother before he was gone. I would never fucking forgive her for that.
I let out a breath, closed my eyes, and counted to ten. I had to stop being so angry. I had left Fort Collins to attend college elsewhere, so I could stop being angry. I took out loans, stayed in school, and went to a state college so my parents didn’t have to spend what little money they had left after Jonah’s diagnosis and life in and out of hospitals. I hadn’t taken a dime from them, even though they’d offered. Because I hadn’t wanted to take any more from them. They’d already lost enough.
But it seemed they always had Annabelle. My brother’s widow.
What a fucking crock.
I got dressed and did my best not to stay angry. I’d been to plenty of therapy sessions and talked to enough bartenders to get myself through and get on with what I needed to do. I didn’t need to be an angry, obsessed man. I just needed to get through my day, help my mother and father, and work my ass off. I didn’t need to think about Annabelle Montgomery—or any other name she chose to use. I didn’t even know if her name was ever Annabelle Queen.
“Hell,” I mumbled to myself.
Had she taken my brother’s name? Did she have my name? Chills slid up my back, and I shook them off. Whatever. I needed to stop thinking about that.
The doorbell rang, and I swallowed hard, hoping it was an overeager postal carrier. But as I opened the door, I knew I wasn’t so lucky.
Annabelle smiled up at me and held out a pink box from a very familiar place. “The best donuts in the state. As a peace offering for looking like a scared deer in headlights last night when I saw you outside.”
I looked down at the box, and then at her face, and did my best not to slam the door. “I don’t need a peace offering or whatever the hell you think this is.”
She paled a bit, her lips pressing into a thin line before she put on a whole new persona like a mask, as if she weren’t an angry woman trying to win me over. Instead, she seemed happy and bubbly as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Maybe she didn’t. Perhaps she didn’t miss my brother as I did.
It wouldn’t surprise me. It wasn’t like she knew him. No, she had only married him for the press.
“Well, I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. This is the Montgomery neighborhood, by the way,” she said through gritted teeth, even though she was smiling.
Dread filled me. She couldn’t be saying what I thought she was. “What?” I asked.
“My family? Montgomery Builders? We built every single one of these homes. We all live here, too, though on different blocks. So, even though our name isn’t on the stonework out front for the community, it’s still our place. And…welcome to it.”
The Montgomerys had built this place? The one development that’d called to me when I did a quick search of the area while looking to find a neighborhood near my parents. Of course, they had. And they surrounded me.
Like they always did.
“I see.”
“Well, I don’t really think I see.” She looked down at the box in her hands and let out a breath. “Jacob, it’s been a long time. I just wanted to say good morning and welcome. We’re going to be neighbors for a while now, unless you move away tomorrow.”
“I thought about it,” I growled.
Her eyes widened. “How can you hate me so much that you would think about leaving the home you just moved into?”
“I can hate you for a lot of reasons.”
“No, you can’t. Stop being an idiot. It’s not my fault you didn’t realize that my family built this place. It’s probably on all of the documents you signed.”
“Didn’t see your name.”
“Then you weren’t looking. You never did see the things that were right in front of you.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You want to hash this out?”
“Maybe we should. Because I’m not a huge fan of undercurrents, and you’ve always been a snide little brat to me.”
I clenched my fist, and her gaze moved to it. I let my hand relax and met her gaze. “I hate you,” I whispered.
She didn’t stagger back, but she did swallow hard. “I don’t know why. I miss him, too.”
“Do you? I don’t know if I believe that.” She shook her head, her hands digging into the pink box. I sighed. “Here, give me that. I don’t want you to ruin perfectly good donuts.”
“I don’t know if you deserve these now.”
“You don’t really have a choice, do you? They were a gift.” I grabbed the box from her and then took a step inside to set them on the table. I didn’t invite her in, and she didn’t move forward as if she wanted to come inside. I didn’t know if I blamed her. My alcove was deep and shady enough that unless someone were at Annabelle’s house, they wouldn’t be able to overhear what we were saying. But if a neighbor had binoculars or something, they could probably see her standing there despite the shadows. I didn’t care what my neighbors thought about me, though. Not now.
“Jonah and I married because he loved me, and I loved him. Maybe not in the way of most adults, but we knew that we didn’t marry for the same kind of love your parents had—or even mine.”
“You were only using him.”
She blanched and shook her head. “Never. I promise you. Jonah was my best friend.”
“Really? I know that’s what you kept telling the press. They ate it up.”
“Because it’s the truth,” she spat. “Jonah had cystic fibrosis. You know that. You knew, just like I did, that he wouldn’t make it past his eighteenth birthday. The doctors didn’t even think he would make it past his thirteenth.”
“You don’t have to remind me,” I shouted, then let out a breath and took a step inside. “Come in. I’m not in the mood to make someone call the cops.”
She glared at me and moved past the threshold, and I closed the door behind her. I didn’t lock it. Even in my current state, I wanted to make sure she knew she was safe from me physically. I wasn’t locking her in or anything. Yet I didn’t even know if she registered that action.
“You don’t have to tell me what happened with my brother. I know he was sick. I watched him slowly die for his entire life.”
“But he lived it, too. Don’t forget that. He smiled, laughed, learned. He brought so much to this world, and all he wanted was a wedding. You know he was a romantic. He dreamed of weddings and the perfect love and everything that he knew he’d never get to have. So I gave that to him.” She raised her chin. “Other people might not have understood, but I always thought you would. He was your brother. Didn’t you understand that he wanted what we had?”