Page 6 of Before You Go
“There you are.” She grabs my hands in hers and starts shoving me back into the room, causing me to bump into Dayton, who is right behind me. “I heard you arrived and have been looking everywhere for you.”
“Sorry, I had to use the restroom.”
“It’s fine. That’s fine. Why don’t you just stay in here with me for a while, and we can?—”
“Mom,” I cut her off while squeezing her hands. “I already know that Matthew is here with someone. It’s okay.”
“Oh, honey, you saw them together?” Her face falls, and she wraps her arms around me. “I’m so sorry. If I had known he’d show up tonight with a date, I wouldn’t have invited him.”
“We’re divorced. You knew this was bound to happen at some point.” I sigh, forcing her to let me go. It’s difficult with the way she’s latched onto me.
“How can you be okay with this? You just signed your divorce papers.”
“We’ve been separated for months,” I remind her gently.
“He said you’re the love of his life and told his mom he wants you back!” she cries, wrenching up the drama.
Even if that last part were true, it’s never happening.
“Mom, take a breath,” I urge, then wait until she does. “Now, listen to me. It’s okay. I’m okay. I don’t care that he’s here with someone.” I shake my head. “Actually, I’m glad he has a date.”
“Glad?” she gasps. “How can you say that? You two were meant to be, Francisca. You were born to be with him.”
Oh my God, here we go.
“Mom, he and I are never getting back together.”
“Like ever!” Jacob sings out from the couch, and I close my eyes, noticing only then that Dayton is still right behind me, with his hand at the small of my back. Something else I notice is his hand spans almost the entire width of my waist. It’s so big.
“Jacob Austin Dawson, what are you doing in here? And why do you have a whole bottle of champagne?” Mom snaps, losing interest in me.
Thank God.
Grabbing Dayton’s hand, I quickly begin dragging him with me out through the still-open door.
“Francisca!” Mom calls out, and I start walking faster.
“I’m going to get something to eat,” I call over my shoulder, still dragging Dayton with me.
“Francisca!” she yells, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
“We’ll talk in a bit, Mom.” I hurry down the hall with my new friend, then drag him around a corner, then another, striding toward the kitchen. The moment we step through the swinging door, the men and women my mom hired to work the event all stop what they are doing and silently stare at us.
“Sorry, please pretend like we’re not even here,” I tell them, letting go of Dayton’s hand as I walk across the kitchen to the pantry.
After flipping on the light, I grab the stool my mom keeps tucked away under one of the bottom shelves and carry it to the back corner of the pantry. Opening it up, I use it to reach up to the top shelf and grab the bottle of tequila my dad brought back from his last vacation in Mexico. Unscrewing the cap of the beautiful white and blue antique-looking bottle, I plop down on the stool and take a drink of the sharp alcohol, gagging at the taste. Tequila is definitely not the same without lime and salt.
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I look up at Dayton and find him leaning with his shoulder against the shelf, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s a big guy, so he takes up a lot of space, but I didn’t notice just how big until we were in here.
“Hi.” I offer him a weak smile.
“You okay?” he asks quietly, his eyes roaming my face. I can only imagine what he’s thinking after just meeting me and experiencing the full effect of my family in less than fifteen minutes.
“Totally.” I look at the bottle and debate stomaching another drink, but the option is taken away from me when he steals the bottle from my hand.
After looking at the label, he smells the open top. “Tequila doesn’t say everything is okay; it says ‘I want to forget things.’”
“Actually, tequila says, ‘I want to have a great time, make a few fun mistakes, and wake up tomorrow not remembering what those mistakes were.’”