“I didn’t ask for your support.I’m sorry,” I added when his mouth fell open.“Everything is complicated, and I’m sorry for that too.Really, truly, I am.But to be fair,” I added.“You haven’t called me in weeks.Not since the hospital.”Where he had also shown up uninvited, come to think of it.
“I was expecting you to call me to apologize for how your husband acted,” he retorted.“Do you know how difficult that was?Being treated like yesterday’s leftovers when all I wanted was to show support to someone trapped in a sham marriage?”
I held a finger to my lips and was more sure than ever that I would have to kill him if he kept this up.There was no question about it.I only kept him around so I could feel like I had a modicum of control over my life.Otherwise, when I looked at him, I felt nothing but confusion as to why I had dated him at all.“There’s a chance we could make it work.I have to try.”
“You would still rather have him?I saw him in there, you know.Puffing his chest out.”He threw his shoulders back and stuck out his chest the way he described.“Acting like he did anything but sign his name on a marriage license.Now, he’s the big hero, the man of the hour, so everybody should get on their knees and kiss his ring.It’s fucking pathetic, and you’re standing by and cosigning on the entire charade.I’m disappointed in you.”
“Are you finished?”I whispered, trembling with rage I didn’t dare voice, even in an otherwise empty room.“Or are you going to offer another unsolicited opinion?”
“You know what?You just can’t help some people.I’m out.”He threw his hands into the air, backing away a little unsteadily, thanks to whatever he had drunk before getting here.I could smell it on his breath, and it wasn’t the champagne he now downed, tossing the flute to the floor.“Don’t come crawling back when he breaks your heart, and we both know he will.”
“I’ll make sure not to.”He needed to go.He needed to stop reminding me of all the tiny little concerns bouncing around in the back of my mind.God knew I tried to ignore them, but some things could not be avoided.
What I wouldn’t give for a drink.
Especially thanks to the way Matteo’s words managed to work their way into my brain.I went back to the party, back to the photographers and the employees whose faces were almost as familiar to me as my own.They were all looking at Clay, hanging on his every word while he gave his speech.It now touched on Papa, on the legacy we hoped to maintain while he continued to recuperate with their caring thoughts and well wishes granting him strength.
Clay had them in the palm of his hand.He was the man who was going to lead our brand into a new and exciting era where we would in no way sacrifice service but would find new ways to delight our customers.
“I mean it,” he insisted, warm and friendly but also professional.“I want everybody to put some real thought into how we can go above and beyond, especially for the people who return time and again.You find something you know a frequent guest would like to see the next time they visit, pick it up for them.You’ll be reimbursed, believe me.If you can’t, let someone else know, and they’ll pick it up.Let’s keep them in mind all the time.No matter what.”
That was my idea.I told him he could use it, but not in front of hundreds of people who, of course, burst into applause like he came up with a cure for cancer.
This was who he was.I let myself lose sight of that.He gloried in his image, in the accolades.I was standing where he could see me, but did he think to attribute that idea to me?He might have come up with a way to work me into the speech, something about us meshing our professional styles the way we had enmeshed our lives.Something personal, something to at least acknowledge my presence.
Why would he bring me up?He had everything he wanted.He had lost nothing, had sacrificed nothing.I, meanwhile, stood in the background, gently applauding my husband like the dutiful wife.I was worth more than that.Wasn’t I?When had I lost sight?Did I ever have sight in the first place?
Here I was, carrying his baby.A baby I didn’t even know whether or not he wanted.A baby I strongly suspected he would look at like an inconvenience.His reaction to the mere mention of kids told me everything I needed to know.He didn’t want to be controlled—never wanted to be tied down in the first place.
I could barely breathe.My heart was ready to pound out of my chest.What the hell was wrong with me?I had to let myself get talked into this in the first place.I, had completely lost sight of myself, what I wanted, what I needed.
And I had nothing but the rest of my life to watch him soak up the praise, taking credit for my ideas without bothering to mention me.It wasn’t childish of me to want at least a little bit of respect from the man I was starting to suspect I had fallen in love with somewhere along the line.I must have, or why would my chest ache at the idea of not being with him?
To hell with my chest.I couldn’t continue like this.It was all wrong.Lying to these people was one thing.I had to stop lying to myself.
“Excuse me,” I murmured, turning around and gently but firmly working my way through the crowd.Forget letting him know I was leaving or why.Something told me he wouldn’t notice I was gone, anyway.Not until somebody wanted a picture of us together.
Somehow, I managed to get through, returned home, and packed a bag without crying.It wasn’t until I was behind the wheel and driving away from the city that a tear trickled down my cheek.
I held the rest back for the sake of driving safely.After all, I had more than myself to think about now.I had a baby to protect.
“Whatever it takes,” I whispered, my hands tightening around the wheel as I reflected on my longtime mantra while driving to the one location I had always felt at home.
19
CLAY
“Have you seen Mira?I’m looking for Mira.”Once again, I got nothing but blank looks.It was getting harder to play this off like it was no big deal.The fact I couldn’t find my wife on one of the biggest nights of my life, when I gave my speech with the expectation of having her nearby.Instead, I had the misfortune of watching her leave the ballroom with that fucker Matteo behind her.
Now, I was supposed to smile and shake hands and act like there was nothing out of the ordinary going on.
There was no sign of either of them now.Did she leave with him?She wouldn’t.
Was that what I needed to tell myself?I didn’t do uncertainty or doubt myself.So why the fuck was I so jumpy, looking over the tops of the heads around me, hoping to find her?
Why the hell would she leave and not tell me?
I checked my phone and found it was only two minutes later than the last time I checked.Nothing from her.I had already sent three messages asking where she was, when she would be back, to at least tell me what happened.Was it an emergency with her father?She had seemed a little testy and distracted.Was there something she didn’t want to tell me until after the party ended?
