Page 18 of Marrying the Gardener (The Bachelor Brothers #3)

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If a tree falls on top of me, will I hear it?

Kaleb

“Kaleb? Is everything okay?” Viktor asks through my phone speaker.

Face down on my bed, I hold the device to my ear and relish in the difficulty I’m having breathing through the pillow beneath my nose. Muffled, I say, “Viktor. Is your wife around?”

Crisis isn’t his wife yet. But he has literally never called her anything else. So.

“It’s eleven at night,” he says.

“I didn’t ask for the time,” I mutter.

Crisis’s voice comes through the line. “Kaleb? What’s going on? Is Crimson okay?”

Yeah. Sure. Crimson is glowing . Because I took Crisis’s advice. I brought up some trauma…made myself out to be a broken, broken boy…and secured her sympathy.

It was as effortless as worming my way into the rotten hearts of her father and grandfather.

Because this is what I can do. This is what I’ve spent years doing.

After a week of forcing herself to withstand our practice sessions each evening, Crimson kissed me, several times, willingly.

She offered to remarry me, without strings, and let me be her real husband.

She saw my helpless pieces, felt responsible for putting them all back together, and enthusiastically offered me everything she possibly could.

So now I feel like dung.

Did I lie? No. Did I know that I was being intentional with my truths? Yes .

And that’s what makes all the difference.

In this business, lies are cheap. You always lace the omissions with the most honesty you can find. Which is why—with parents like mine—it’s so horrifyingly easy to fit right in with monsters. I know what a true monster looks like. And, let’s face it, it’s in my blood.

I bet…if the tables were turned…my mother and father would have run instead of sticking around to protect any of their siblings, too.

I say, “Crisis, can you take me into the forest tonight?”

“What?”

“Can you…come get me…and take me…into the forest…tonight?”

Silence. Then, “…why?”

“So you can stand in my vicinity. Until a tree falls on top of me.”

“What did you do?” Her lethal tone delves into my rotting, black soul, niggling at a scrap of integrity, assuming there’s any left. And I do not believe there is.

Rolling onto my back, I cover my eyes with my hand. “I took your advice.”

“ And? ” she asks.

“It worked.”

“The sum of sense you’re making equates to zero. I could create a Canva Whiteboard of how well I’m following, but it would be a scattering of question marks in various fonts, including Papyrus.”

Blowing out a breath, I say, “Crisis, it feels like I’ve manipulated her. I asked her to save me, and a switch flipped. Her entire demeanor changed. Just like you said, I felt the moment I became hers, and…” I cuss, lower my hand to my throat, grip. “Now, I think I have to die.”

Crisis, more muted, asks, “Viktor, are all of you brothers in some way suicidal?”

Viktor clearing his throat in the distance fills my ear. “I don’t think…Lukas is?”

“Your parents deserved worse than death.”

That might be the most truthful truth I have ever heard. “Crisis,” I plead. “Please. Say you’ll come. I’ll start walking.”

“I’m not going to stand in a forest with you, Kaleb. It’s okay.”

“But…I can’t live with myself.”

“You can. You will. Don’t insult my husband like this. She’s smart enough to make her own decisions. She’s not going to let anyone manipulate her into doing anything she doesn’t completely either want to do or see sufficient merit in.”

“She’s offered to marry me. For real. Once our deal is up.”

“What deal?” Crisis asks, nonchalant.

I sigh. “I’m not telling you that.”

She harrumphs. “It was worth a shot.”

Dragging my hand down into the collar of my t-shirt, I grip and twist. “Well? Any insight? She doesn’t like me, but what I did had her offering to marry me permanently, if that’s what I wanted. Should I start walking now?”

“Kaleb, I’m going to need you to seek professional help if you keep talking like that. What makes you think Crimson doesn’t like you?”

The disgust and exhaustion on her face whenever she forces herself to tolerate kisses from me.

The fact she’s given my body long, slow once-overs that end in utter confusion limned by revulsion.

But, then, I suppose those are physical dislikes.

Which makes enough sense given how the men she’s been around since she was small treat her.

Is there a chance she does like my personality?

No.

No, no. Of course not.

“She doesn’t know me well enough to judge my character,” I say.

“Oh, sure. That’s a good criterion. Have you called any kettles black lately?”

Ha, ha…very funny. She doesn’t show signs of experiencing attraction, and it was my attraction that led me to…

I blink.

I’m not just attracted to her because she’s beautiful, am I? No. I love everything about her. The way she acts in every situation is so addicting I can’t look away.

I jolt upright. “You…think she likes me?”

“I think my emotional unavailability until recently and the fact we’re soul twins means there’s a pretty good chance if she likes you, she doesn’t know it yet, but she’ll still be heading subconsciously in a direction that suggests she does.

Crimson has very good intuition, so she’ll often act on it without putting a reason into words first. I’m pretty sure that’s how she saves me from so many disasters and it’s probably how she knew she could trust you. ”

“So.” I swallow. “I didn’t manipulate her?”

Crisis laughs. “You should try to and see what happens. If you dare attempt to manipulate that woman, she’ll flip the script on you in five moves. Checkmate.”

“So I’m not the scum of the earth, and I don’t need to hope that a tree falls on me?”

“You need to seek out a therapist.”

Viktor, helpfully, says, “I concur.”

You first, big brother.

Blowing out a breath, I stop stretching the collar of my shirt, plant my hand against my thigh, and reel my thoughts in. Crimson likes me.

But she still needs me to emotionally abuse her. Daily. In her own home. And then worse in public.

My body caves in on itself, because compared to that, her liking me doesn’t matter much.

I don’t want to keep playing this game. I don’t want to be the victim she heals and saves. I want to convince her that she doesn’t have anything to prove, least of all to people who could ignore the truth even if it hit them in the face like a train.

There is no winning with guys like her father and grandfather.

They’re so secure in their pride and repulsive worldview that nothing will shake it.

No matter what we do, success will be hollow.

These sorts of people make everything about them. Even their own children.

“Crisis, one more question: is there no way I can save her?”

“She’d hate that.”

“But—”

“She’d hate it.” Her voice softens. “Trust me, Kaleb. All we can do is love her. We can’t make her decisions or stop her from hurting herself if that’s what she’s decided is the solution for her pain.

She couldn’t stop me when all I could focus on was spite.

We can’t stop her from doing whatever it is she’s up to, either.

Even if it’s hurting her. Just love her.

In a new way. In a way I can’t. In a way no one else has.

Love her like Viktor loves me, and see if that overcomes something. Okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper, letting my eyes close. “Thank you, Crisis.”

“Take care of her, but never forget…I’m her favorite.”

I smile as we say our goodbyes, then I lower my phone. Something akin to pain and peace rests in the pit of my stomach.

If loving her is the only option I have, I will love her.

With my entire tainted soul.