Page 145 of Their Naughty Student (Office Intrigue Duet 6)
I stepped into the kitchen to find Gretchen staring out the small window over the sink.
“Gretchen?”
She turned around. “I’m sorry about that.”
“No,” I said softly, stepping closer. “Don’t be. There’s obviously a story there, but it’s his story to tell.”
She kept her eyes on my face, nodded. “I meant what I said. You’re good for him.”
I smiled.
“Cav, too,” she added. “They’ve been friends for so long.” She waved her hand toward the den. “I should’ve known something like this would happen with them.”
I remained silent.
Her voice was soft when she continued. “I honestly can’t tell you the last time I saw my brother smile. And I have never seen him look at a woman the way he does you.” Her eyes cleared, her smile brightened. “He’s happy. Really happy.”
She laughed and it sounded slightly hysterical.
“Is there going to be a wedding soon?”
It was my turn to let out a hysterical laugh. “Not soon,” I assured her. “But maybe one day.”
Gretchen’s dark eyebrows dipped low. “How does that work? Three people? You can’t all get married to each other. Isn’t that illegal?”
I grinned, relaxing. “When it comes to love, it just works itself out.”
CAV
“WELL, THAT WAS INTERESTING,” I SAID IN an effort to break the silence as we drove back to Edge’s apartment.
“I like her,” Jamie noted from the backseat. “The whole family, actually.”
“Julianna took a likin’ to you, that’s for sure,” I told her.
Edge didn’t chime in during the entire drive. When we stepped into his apartment, I considered offering to take Jamie home, not sure where his mind was at. Ever since Gretchen had brought up their parents, he’d been unsettled.
Jamie appeared concern as she stood near the door, dividing her attention between the two of us. Edge went straight for the refrigerator, pulled out a beer.
“My mom was officially diagnosed with schizophrenia right after I was born,” Edge said, his face blank as he stared off into space.
I reached for Jamie’s hand, led her over to the sofa.
“Growing up, Gretch and I spent a lot of time with our grandparents, my father’s parents,” he continued. “We lived with them. They had money. Lots of it. A mansion, butler, housekeeper. All that shit. The house was huge. I remember some days I wouldn’t see my mother or my father at all, even though I knew they were there.
“My mother was in and out of mental hospitals, mostly at my grandfather’s insistence. He said my mother needed the sort of help we couldn’t give her. Not even the nurses he’d hired to help my father deal with her. My father loved her to distraction, enabled her, refused to listen to reason. Sometimes I didn’t understand why, because she wasn’t a nice woman much of the time. But when she was … she was great.”
He took a long pull of his beer, exhaled.
“I remember my grandfather trying to convince my father to have her committed permanently, said it was the best thing for everyone. My father was so pissed. They argued and my father vowed to never let them see me or Gretch again. I was fourteen. Gretch was seventeen, I think, about to graduate from high school. My grandfather knew we wouldn’t be safe if my father took us away from there, so he gave in. Promised to help in any way he could.
“So he did. For the next couple of years, he supported my father. My mother stayed in the hospital for longer that time, almost a year. My father insisted she was getting better, said the medication was working and he wanted her to come home. He wanted her to spend some time with me before I graduated. I didn’t think it was so much about me though. More that he was lonely, so I defended him when my grandfather argued. Offered to help out when they needed me.”
Jamie squeezed my hand but neither of us moved as Edge continued to stare at the wall of windows.
“It worked for a little while. My mother came home. I was a junior in high school, had my own car. My grandfather had started pitching in, too, helping more after my grandmother passed away. I could tell he didn’t like my mother being in the house. She scared him. She was often paranoid, and it took effort to get her settled. But my father was happier, so my grandfather and I agreed to make it work.”
Edge paused. I knew how this story ended and it was a tragic tale, one that had broken my heart when I’d originally heard it many years ago.
“I left for school one morning.” Edge’s voice was deeper, angrier. “It was a Friday. I remember thinking I wanted to spend the weekend somewhere else, somewhere I didn’t have to endure all the arguments, the fighting. My mother was having a particularly bad day, had thrown something at the housekeeper. My father and grandfather were arguing. I never asked to stay at a friend’s, but I did that day. I’d needed the break from them. The last thing I heard was my grandfather insisting he was going to have my mother committed again. Said it was the only safe thing to do.”
