If I forced myself to think about all the reasons I couldn’t be with him, to reject his intense stares and disregard his convincing words, maybe it would make the pain of losing him more palatable.
“We should head back inside.” I stepped away, only to be pulled right back against the brick façade of the building.
“I’m falling in love with you, Addison.” A hint of a tremble in his voice, the first sign of weakness I’d ever seen in him, made my heart sink. His hand cupped my chin as he raked his thumb across my bottom lip. As he claimed my mouth one last time on the sidewalk outside the French bistro for all the world to see, my body held more nervous tension than I could stand. My eyes darted around the busy sidewalk as passersby looked at us.
A day ago, I’d have not cared. Funny how everything could change in an instant.
Wilder smirked. “Not even going to kiss me back, huh?”
“I-I can’t,” I said, my heart thumping hard in my ears. His revelation terrified me and made my insides burn hot with confusion all at the same time. “Besides, you don’t love me, Wilder. You hardly know me.”
“Don’t tell me what I fucking feel. I know what I feel.” His hand clenched into a ball as he beat it against his chest.
“We have to get back inside. They’re going to know something’s up. We’ve been out here a long time.”
I peeled myself away from the brick wall and practically ran back inside, before he had a chance to talk me out of it or pull me into his arms again.
“Everything okay, sweetie?” my mom drawled. I’d never heard her ask such a thing before, but I supposed there was a first time for everything. Coco shot me a look, and I nodded in return.
“Everything’s great, Mom.” I pulled a napkin into my lap and stared down at my plate, the dish Wilder had apparently ordered for me against my wishes.
“Wilder thought you’d like that. What’s it called again, Wilder?” my mom asked. She spoke to him as if they were pals, like they’d known each other for ages. Like she reveled in her newfound stepmother role. “Sweetie, you should thank him.” She leaned into me. “He’s really trying to make an effort here. Please be a good sport.”
My blood boiled as I felt everyone’s eyes on me. If they only knew the kind of skin I had in the game, maybe my behavior would make sense. I glanced at the diamond encrusted, rose gold watch on my wrist, the one Wilder had gifted me the weekend before when we went walking around our SoHo neighborhood and happened to pop into a jewelry boutique. “I really need to get going. I’m sorry. I have a showing tonight.”
Tammy Lynn’s face fell, and I spotted a hint of relief from Coco’s end.
My mom stood up as I gathered my things. “Don’t forget, sweetie, we’re having a girls’ day tomorrow. We need to catch up. Maybe get our nails done?” She splayed her fingers. The diamond ring on her finger glittered.
“Yeah, fine, sounds good,” I said as I hugged her. She squeezed me tight. Tighter than she’d ever done before, and I wasn’t quite sure if it was her way to make up for all the years of being a shitty parent or if it was her way of telling me not to ruin this for her. Knowing Tammy Lynn, it was likely the latter.
“Nice meeting you, Vince.” I nodded in his direction. Wilder’s gaze burned holes right through me. “Wilder.”
My mind took a snapshot of him, wishing I could replace it with one from that morning, before the shit storm happened. When we were two people who found love in an unsuspecting way and were navigating the murky waters of unbridled passion and vulnerability together.
I left the restaurant, opting to walk home in a feeble attempt to clear my head.
It didn’t work.
The second I made it home, Wilder’s wine-colored sweater was the first thing I saw, draped over the back of my arm chair. I pulled it over my head and curled up on the couch, breathing in his scent until it was no longer there and swallowing the hot, salty tears that tracked down my cheeks.
“So, son,” my father said the next morning as we met for coffee. “What’d you think of the new family? Bet you never thought you’d be a big brother at your age, huh?” He chuckled as he took a sip from his steaming Styrofoam cup.
“Completely blindsided, if we’re being honest.”
“What do you think, though? You like ‘em?” His brows were raised, almost begging me to tell him what he wanted to hear. The truth lingered on the tip of my tongue.
“I don’t know, Dad.” My lips pursed as I tried to fight it. It was no use. “This is what, number five? When does it end?”
“Oh, come on.” My dad refused to remove his rose-colored glasses. “Tammy Lynn’s different. She’s not like the rest. She’s a keeper.”
He said that about Connie. And Debra. And the other two whose names escaped me. His marriage to my mother lasted maybe a decade. No marriage since had made it past the one-year mark.
“Wilder,” he sighed. “Look. I’m not getting any younger. I want a companion. Someone to settle down with. I’ll be retiring soon, and the nights get a little lonely. Not to mention I love Tammy Lynn. This marriage is forever, mark my words.” He jammed his index finger into the table top. “Forever.”
“Excuse me while I don’t get too attached,” I huffed, though he didn’t seem to pick up on my sarcasm. He never was good at reading between the lines, and maybe that was why his marriages never lasted.