“For what it’s worth,” Thalia says, “I’ve been to your bakery, and the pastries there are heavenly. Five-star level quality.”
“They don’t give five stars to restaurants and bakeries,” Carey mutters under his breath.
“What?”
“They give Michelin stars darling wife. One is more than good enough.”
Thalia’s cheeks turn red, and I almost want to punch Carey. If he was sitting next to me, I would have. Every once in a while, Thalia’s low background becomes obvious with something she says or does, and each time Carey is there to correct her. Sometimes public and in humiliating ways. For all his well-known charm, Carey saves zero for his wife.
The table goes quiet after that and everyone either converses with the person beside them or not says anything at all. Thalianever speaks a word for the rest of the dinner. When the attention is no longer on us, I turn to Damien and thank him.
“Your family is full of little shits.”
“Isn’t that what all families are like? You don’t know what it’s like between us.”
Damien shakes his head. “Mine is less dysfunctional. My brother would never treat me like yours treat you.”
“You’re a successful self-made billionaire, Damien. The situation is different.”
He drops his cutlery; the silverware clattering against the plate. “My god, stand up for yourself, will you? Stop defending them.”
We finish the brunch, Damien’s words still ringing in my head. Am I that spineless? Damien seems to think so. I am no longer the feisty and forward young woman he used to know. Lake changed that spontaneity and I don’t regret it at all. I was wild and stupid back then. I may be reserved now, but I’m smarter.
The shine of Damien and I’s relationship dulls as we keep to our agreed statements. The more boring we make it seem, the fewer people ask for more details. By the time we enter the terrace where Mom has planned a speech and a performance by Dad’s favorite cello player, no one is pestering us.
Damien stands beside me as we watch the performance, his hand a little too close to mine. It occasionally brushes against me and each time, I resist the urge to jump out of my skin. I hold the stem of my wineglass with both hands to avoid brushing against him and try to concentrate on the lilting tones of the cello as a cool breeze blows in my face. But it’s difficult. My attention wanders to what it would be like to be kissed by him again. To the day of our wedding, when he had been playful. Playful and cruel, I remind myself. Just because he was nice to you around your family, it doesn’t mean he’s a nice guy.
Everyone disperses after the cello performance is done. The setting sun turns the New York skyline into shimmering gold and orange. My thoughts go to Lake and I praise him inwardly for not calling the entire time. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss him, though. I desperately want to see him again.
He’s all I think about on the ride back home. Damien insisted on taking me back just as he brought me. “For appearances,” he said. There’s no way I could refuse him. And besides, it would have been weird if the newlyweds had returned to their homes separately.
The town car rolls into the empty parking lot beside my building. Damien’s driver doesn’t cut the engine. “Thanks,” I say to Damien.
“The displeasure is all mine. It was fun seeing your family hasn’t changed for the better.”
“They aren’t that bad.”
He raises his eyebrow. “Including your mother?”
“She has issues. She’s trying to cozy up to Nolan in the hopes he extends her wallet. And since I’m the one with little to no money in the family, she tends to use me as a punching bag.”
He chuckles. “You have all that awareness and you still defend her?”
“She’s my mother.”
He nods as if accepting some wise truth. “She should cozy up to you. You’ve married a rich man and you now have control of your money.”
I don’t think Mom has ever known any other situation than her default appeal to the Nolan of the family.
“This is my cue to leave,” I say after a few seconds of silence. He nods. I step out of the car and onto the pavement just as Lake and his favorite babysitter are making their way to the building. I called, telling her to come with Lake by six o’clock, thinking we will be early. But the car got stuck in a traffic jam and nowthey’re here while he’s here. I turn to the car to see if he sees anything, but the tinted windows give nothing away.
Lake sees me. Turns his stroll into a run and rushes over to me. Oh no. His happiness at seeing me is usually infectious, but today it fills me with dread. “Mom!” He rushes past the entrance of the apartment building with the one-track mind of a child and comes straight to me. He embraces my legs just as Damien gets out of the car.
“Hi honey.” I try to sound as normal as I can as I lift him up into my arms.
Damien is smiling as he says, “Is this the famous Lake?” But that smile quickly turns to a frown, to recognition, to wonder, and lastly to anger.
He knows. Oh god.
