Within These Walls (The Walls Duet #1)(38)

“Oh, not him. I’m talking about Roman Cavanaugh, the oldest one. He’s been in the gossip magazines since he was in high school. He’s one of those men who are hard to tame. Everyone always wants to know whom he is dating or where he was last seen. He’s like the George Clooney of the business world.”

“And the other brother?” I asked, adjusting my blankets so that I didn’t have to look her in the eye.

“Oh, right. What’s his name? Jude! Oh, hey, like our Jude. They do kind of look alike, except ours has all the tattoos and muscles. I don’t know honestly. He really never became much of a public figure. It’s always been Roman. The press speculated that Jude became extremely introverted after his fiancée died.”

Fiancée?

Died?

“Really?” I croaked out.

“Yeah, the family didn’t release many details until months after the fact. No one even knew he was engaged. Of course, the only Cavanaugh anyone ever paid attention to was Roman,” she said with dreamy eyes and a shrug.

Jude was engaged? And he lost her?

I felt pain and sadness for him. All of it boiled up like an inferno until I felt dizzy from it.

My heart began an erratic rhythm that had nothing to do with my sudden education of Jude’s past.

Grace rose from her spot at the end of my bed and resumed her routine. She turned her back to me as she disconnected the empty fluid bag from the IV stand. “Speaking of Judes, what’s going on with you and our Jude? I heard he caused quite a commotion around here last night.”

The room started to spin, and beads of sweat trickled down my forehead while I tried to vocalize an answer. All that came out was a bunch of useless syllables. Grace’s head sharply whipped around, and I saw her surprised expression through the haze of movements before she reached out to grab my call button.

I heard her shout the words, “Code Blue,” right before I passed out.





I WAS IN turmoil, utter f*cking turmoil.

I felt it churning within me, boiling up through my veins like a poison I couldn’t get rid of.

There was no chance of sleeping. The sun streamed through the flimsy curtains of my bedroom, and I sat up in bed. Running my hands through my hair, I looked around my modest bedroom.

Jumping out of bed, I gave up on any chance of catching shut-eye, and I did what I’d wanted to do since walking through the front door of my apartment two hours earlier. I started to get ready to go back to her.

When I was with Lailah, pure air would fill my lungs, healing me throughout, for what seemed like the first time in years. She gave me purpose and made me want to see the sunrise again. The moment I left her side, the guilt would come rushing back like a punishing ocean current.

I don’t deserve any of this.

Nothing I’d done in my life up to this point afforded me the luxury of enjoying a single minute of happiness with Lailah.

I’d caused the death of my fiancée. I hadn’t driven us into oncoming traffic, but I’d looked into her tired, droopy eyes, smelled the lingering alcohol on her breath, and still handed her the keys, knowing I shouldn’t have.

Because I had been selfish.

When she had been beyond repair, needing to be put to rest so that her family could mourn, I’d prolonged everyone’s suffering by trying to prove our love could survive anything—even brain damage. I’d listened to her parents sobbing behind me as I’d held her hands in mine. With tears pouring down my cheeks, I’d begged her to come back to me, but she hadn’t.

I’d hurt so many lives when I lost Megan, including the one person I’d never expected.

I didn’t deserve Lailah.

But I would take her. I’d take everything she gave me because I was selfish and tired of being alone. And I’d offer her everything I had left to give.

Surely, life wouldn’t be so cruel.

It was ironic that I was taking advice from the one person I despised.

My brother hadn’t suffered a day in his entire privileged life. He knew nothing about loss or pain. As his words echoed in my head, I couldn’t help but wonder if they held a bit of truth.

A twinge of guilt shot through my gut at the mere thought of anyone replacing Megan, but my brother was right. She was gone. I thought my world had ended when she died three years ago. Yet, here I was with air filling my lungs and blood pumping through my heart, and I felt everything because I was alive. I was still here.

My self-imposed exile had stripped me of everything I once was. I’d left my family, friends, and home.

Isn’t that enough?

I am still here. I am still alive.

Thirty minutes after giving up on sleep, I was showered, dressed, and driving my piece-of-shit car back to the hospital.

When I’d said I left my old life behind, I wasn’t kidding.

My parents had figured out fairly quickly that I had an affinity for numbers. I wasn’t like the guy in Rain Man or anything. I couldn’t solve equations in my sleep. I was more like the guy in the casino who gets accused of cheating at the slots, but they can’t prove anything because he was just really damn good. I was one of those. I saw patterns and simplicity while others saw chaos. I was always two steps ahead of the market, seeing trends and pitfalls before anyone else did. Ever since this little discovery, all my father could see were dollar signs. There was no soccer or swim team for Jude. Instead, I’d gotten to sit in on board meetings and listen to hour-long conference calls.