The Complete Irreparable Boxed Set: Irreparable #1-2

by Sam Mariano

  Grinning, she reminded him that Brian was doing them a big favor, then asked again if he wanted her to stop over on her way home.

  Since she didn’t want to get caught on her phone again—it was not unheard of for her boss to confiscate them if he saw them more than once on a busy night—she waited in the bathroom for him to respond.

  “I would love that, but I’m going to be at the house. Ali’s books showed up today.”

  It made her feel guilty to feel so immediately disappointed; she knew he would be unavailable to her sometimes. Still, it bugged her that she was only working until eight and it would take her about a half hour to get to his place—how late did his kids stay up?

  Shoving it to the back of her mind, she tucked her phone away and headed back out on the floor.

  ---

  Two full days passed before Willow got to see Ethan again.

  By the time he invited her over, she’d begun wondering if he was regretting their hastily made decision to get together. They were so good together when it was just the two of them, but that wasn’t Ethan’s life. It never would be.

  When they finally got together, it wasn’t until late since she had to close. It felt like little more than a booty call, but she reasoned she was allowed to answer booty calls from her own boyfriend.

  Boyfriend. It still seemed weird to call him that.

  Despite her anxiety about regrets he might be having, once she was at his apartment again, the scent of him enchanting her, his touch seducing her, his smile wrapping around her heart and squeezing, any doubts melted away.

  Afterward, curled up in his embrace, she tried not to wonder how long it would last.

  That first night, bad dreams aside, she felt she was exactly where she was meant to be. With him.

  This time, in the quiet as he held her, she thought about his other life.

  As if he could sense her wheels turning, Ethan squeezed her and asked, “What’s going on up there?”

  “Hm?”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Her stomach dropped, and she decided to go with something a little more subtle.

  “I think I want to get a tattoo.”

  “Yeah?” He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “What kind of tattoo?”

  “The Eiffel tower. Maybe a little one, right here.” She reached back to point behind her left shoulder blade. “But I don’t feel like I can get the tattoo until I’ve been there and actually seen the Eiffel tower first.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Nodding slightly, she added, “I think I’ll wait until after I get married; I’ll probably go strapless and I don’t want a tattoo in my wedding photos.”

  “This seems like a complicated decision,” he remarked.

  She cracked a smile. “I can’t seem to commit to it. Someday. Before I’m 30, anyway.”

  “You think you’ll be married before you’re 30?” he inquired.

  “Probably. If I ever get married, I guess. I don’t know.” She missed half a beat, not giving him time to respond. “What about you? Think you’ll ever remarry?”

  “Aw, I don’t know. Honestly it hasn’t crossed my mind. I think it’s in bad taste to consider remarrying before you’re even divorced,” he pointed out.

  “Ah, right,” she said lightly, as if she hadn’t even considered it. “I’m still sampling the goods, huh?”

  He was quiet for a few seconds. “I don’t really know what’s going on with that.”

  “What do you want to happen?”

  He didn’t look entirely pleased. “Are we having this conversation already?”

  “We don’t have to,” she said, simply.

  Ethan quieted again, and Willow already regretted bringing it up. After a few more seconds of silence, he said, “I know that I love being here with you. I know that I’m lucky you’re so understanding, and wonderful and amazing…”

  Smiling despite herself, Willow said, “This is you trying to butter me up, isn’t it?”

  “Is it working?”

  “It is,” she verified. “Proceed.”

  He dropped another kiss on her bare shoulder. “Not to mention sexy beyond belief. Funny, smart, confident, cool enough to stick with me through the trying times in my life, despite the lack of stability you obviously deserve.”

  “Man, you are lucky,” she said, playing along. “That, or your girlfriend’s as dumb as a rock.”

  Chuckling, he said, “Definitely not.” Then, after a breath: “Girlfriend, huh?”

  Her heart missed a beat. She’d thrown that out there to see how he responded, but she was also half afraid of what his response would be.

  “Sound weird?” she asked, her tone deceptively light.

  “It does. I haven’t had a girlfriend in a long ass time. Didn’t think I would again, obviously.”

  “Yeah, you were definitely the forever type—with her at least, weren’t you?”

  “I could be again, who knows,” he said, but he seemed distracted. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

  She nodded her head. “Of course.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever be able to trust me?”

  Willow frowned and looked at him over her shoulder. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “You know why. You can’t go into this thinking I’ve never been… unfaithful.”

  “You plan on cheating on me?” she asked with a quirked brow.

  “Of course not,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  “There you go,” she replied. “That’s a stupid thing for a smart man to say, Ethan.”

  “I think that might be your age showing.”

  Scowling back at him, she said, “Bullshit. You know how I feel about cheating.”

  “I do, exactly—you’ve backed your shit up. You may tease, but you wouldn’t even cross the line with me when you were with some frat boy you barely cared about. I’m pretty confident you wouldn’t cheat on me now.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t,” she said, the fuzzy, warm feeling taking over again. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of crazy about you.”

  “It’s easy to stay faithful when you’re happy,” he stated. “It won’t always feel like this. It won’t always be this consuming, natural thing between us, not if we’re together for any length of time. We’ll get used to each other, there will be lulls, times we feel bored.”

  She wasn’t even sure she could imagine feeling bored with Ethan, but given he was far more experienced, she didn’t argue the possibility.

  “Okay, so what if we do? You never cheated on Amanda before, right?”

  “Of course not, I told you that.”

  “Never cheated on anyone else?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  Willow nodded once. “I’m not worried then.” Missing a beat, she added, “Plus I’m basically a trophy girlfriend; if you do anything to mess this up, you’re crazy.”

  Ethan chuckled against her hair and nuzzled his face against her neck, dropping kisses that sent tingles everywhere. “Good point.”

  Telling herself she was worrying too much and creating problems where there weren’t any, Willow forced the worries from her mind and turned in his arms, returning his kiss.

  Willow ripped open her third garlic knot, a little more violently than breaking bread really warranted.

  Her father was late. Like always. He was the one who called and demanded her presence—to her mom; he hadn’t even bothered talking to her directly—and there she sat, the bread basket nearly empty, her father curiously absent.

  “Ten more minutes,” she muttered to herself, dropping the buttery roll on the small plate the waitress had placed on the table for shared food.

  On the ninth minute, her father walked through the front door of the little Italian restaurant he’d asked her to meet at. Only 43 minutes late.

  Already irritable, Willow kept her gaze low instead of meeting his as she further dismembered her bread.

  “Finally made time to see your ol
d man, huh?” he said with a hint of a smile as he pulled out his chair and took a seat.

  That time she turned her unamused gaze to his. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation,” he said.

  “I didn’t expect you to,” she returned practically before he’d finished speaking.

  “You got the flowers?”

  Nodding once, she muttered. “Yep.”

  Reaching into his sharp jacket, he extracted a white envelope and slid it across the table. “I meant to give you this with it, but like I said, I couldn’t make it.”

  Tentatively reaching for it, feeling its thickness as she dragged it across the beaten tabletop, she felt herself thawing—and immediately hated herself for being so cheap.

  “Thanks,” she said, folding her hands protectively over the envelope.

  Not wanting to leave it out in plain sight, she stuffed it into her purse while her father leaned back and looked around for the waitress.

  “There’s a little extra in there,” he added. “I know your mom’s been giving you a hard time lately. She said you’re waiting tables.”

  “Yeah, well, I have expenses now.”

  He nodded, absently grabbing at the menu. “Well, like I said. Just be smart with it, huh? Don’t blow it all on shoes or some fucking kid you’re dating.”

  At the mention of her love life, she shifted, horrible memories of his involvement in that area of her life skating across her mind.

  “You mean Brian?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t read into her uneasiness.

  “Whoever. Doesn’t matter,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “I told you I won’t get involved, you do what you want. Just be smart with the money. You’re a woman now, you’re gonna need something of your own.”

  “Well, thank you.”

  The waitress approached, notepad in hand, smile on her weathered face.

  “You ordering food?” her father asked, glancing at her.

  Faltering slightly, she said, “Well, I assumed? You asked me to lunch…”

  “I think just some… fior di latte to share,” he said.

  Glancing at Willow, she said, “Nothing for you?”

  Willow closed the menu and sat back. “I guess not.”

  “You order what you want,” he said. “I just can’t stay too long.”

  “I’m shocked,” she stated, irritation bubbling up again. “Nothing else,” she told the waitress.

  The waitress flashed her father a smile as if to say, “kids, right?” and made her way back to the kitchen.

  Willow checked the time on her phone, wondering how much longer he planned to play at fatherhood that day.

  “Anyway,” her father began, dropping a napkin in his lap. “I had another reason for calling you here today.”

  Of course he did. Willow waited, arms crossed, a knowing look on her face.

  “I have a friend, a lady friend. She, uh, does that whole art thing,” he said, gesturing with his hands, his expression somewhat dismissive. “You know I’m not into all that, but I remembered you were.”

  “The art thing? Yeah, I’m into that. I am surprised you remembered.”

  Smirking slightly, he pointed to his head. “See, I got it all up here.”

  Willow offered a brittle half-smile.

  “Anyway, so she has this thing, this internship thing. Very competitive from what I’ve heard, I don’t know. But I told her about you, how you like that kind of stuff, how you wanna go to school for it. She mentioned how this internship could be a big help to you, if she was to… give it to you.”

  Willow pulled herself up a little straighter. “An internship? What is it she does, specifically? Do you know?”

  “Gallery. She has her own gallery. High end, I guess. She tells me college graduates been applying for the position, trying to get a foot in the door, to get a chance to work with her and meet some of her contacts. She’d probably go with one, too, but see, your old man’s good for something once in a while,” he boasted, flashing her another little smile. “If you want it, it’s yours. She said she’d like to talk to you first, but just as a formality.”

  The annoyance she’d been feeling evaporated, replaced by a sort of giddiness. Her father didn’t come through very often, but if he’d actually managed to secure her a coveted internship in the very difficult to infiltrate art world…

  “So, what do you say? You want it?”

  “Yes,” she said, eyes widening. “When does it start? What’s her name? How long is the internship? She knows I haven’t even started college yet, right?”

  He laughed, nodding his head. “Yes, she knows that. She said you’ll be assisting her mainly at the gallery, but she wants to see how you do at some exhibition thing, too. She said there’s something in Hong Kong she’ll take you to before school starts.”

  Willows eyes went wider. “Hong Kong?”

  “I’ll get you set up with a passport, since you don’t have one.”

  Willow could only nod, her head spinning as she imagined what that would even be like.

  “It’s 3 months,” he said. “But she said if you do good, she’ll keep you on for the fall, too. Plus it’s a reference or recommendation or whatever—experience. It doesn’t pay, but I want to help you out. I’ll make sure you have enough money to live so you don’t have to kill yourself trying to work and keep up with your school and everything. I’ll set you up in a little apartment, I already talked to a guy I know out there, he’s gonna work something out with me so you won’t have to worry about it.”

  “Dad, this is incredible,” she said, shaking her head. “I might be able to work out my own apartment though. I mean, I appreciate that, but… I actually kind of… I don’t know, I wanted to see how some other stuff pans out. I still have a little time before I have to commit to an apartment or dorm though.”

  His expression wasn’t as jovial then, and for a chilling moment, she wondered if he suspected she was thinking about Ethan. He said he wouldn’t interfere, but that didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t know.

  “The internship is in New York.”

  Her face froze, then slowly fell. “Oh.”

  Watchful eyes searched her face. “Doesn’t change anything though. In fact. Celine said you’d be better off out there than here if that’s what you wanna do with your life.”

  “Yeah, except I live here, I’m going to college here.”

  “That was never the plan before,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, well, things change.” Completely deflated, she pushed her bread plate away, no longer hungry. To have a bridge to her dreams opened up right before her and then promptly blown to pieces was a little disheartening.

  The waitress showed up with a plate, but Willow didn’t even look up.

  “Might be good for you to get out of Chicago for a while. You had a rough year. Maybe a change of scenery…” He trailed off, shrugging and reaching for the plate.

  “It’s not what I planned.”

  “Life seldom goes as planned. Do yourself a favor, think about it. Look up her place online, at least see what she’s offering before you turn it down. I don’t have to tell you, you’re lucky to even be considered for this. Without the right connection, you’re not qualified. My understanding is this whole art scene is like that,” he added, quirking an eyebrow. “Think about it. You’ve got two weeks before she gives your spot to someone else.”

  Willow stared at the tomatoes on the plate, half wishing he wouldn’t have even told her about it.

  For the better part of the afternoon, Willow looked up Celine Holland and her awesome contemporary gallery in Chelsea. She scoured the internet for write-ups that mentioned her while dreaming about what her life could be like if she took that amazing internship.

  Come evening, however, she had plans to meet Ethan at his apartment and make him dinner. Since he would certainly ask about her day, she could mention the internship without making it too big a deal
, see what he thought.

  Not that it would make a difference. Even if he wanted to, Ethan wasn’t free to go to New York with her. Not only was his business in Chicago, but Amanda and his kids were there, and he was never going to move away from his kids.

  Sure, if it was just a 3 month internship she could go alone, but if 3 months turned into 6 and going to school there….

  They’d only just gotten together. They wouldn’t stand a chance at surviving long distance already, especially not with all of their special circumstances.

  Briefly, so briefly, she imagined what that would be like. Pictured strolling through Manhattan on Ethan’s arm in stylish new clothes, the city lights the perfect backdrop, gushing about what a great experience she had in Hong Kong, but how she was glad to be back at her gallery—and back in his arms.

  Sighing heavily as the fantasy died, Willow shifted her canvas tote of groceries and rapped on Ethan’s door.

  While she waited she looked down the corridor, imagining the blank white walls of Celine’s gallery instead—imagined helping Celine prepare for a famous artist’s exhibition, drinking in her knowledge; circulating during the event, bumping elbows with like-minded people, creating opportunities of her own.

  “Dammit, Dad,” she muttered under her breath.

  Ethan still hadn’t come to the door, so she knocked again and fished her phone out of her purse, texting him that she was there.

  Then she waited. And waited. And waited some more.

  The bag of groceries grew heavy, so she slid down the wall beside his apartment door, placing the bag on the floor beside her.

  Checking her phone, she saw that he still hadn’t responded. Her eyes wandered over to his front door and she couldn’t help frowning.

  It wasn’t like him to ignore her texts, and it certainly wasn’t like him to disappear when he knew they had plans.

  Switching to the phone app, she decided to call him. Maybe the nervous feeling in her gut would subside once she heard his voice.

  Only she got his voice mail. Her dad flashed through her mind and she went cold all over, hanging up and calling right back. She repeated that action 6 times before she finally connected, hearing first a shrill scream, then some friction, and finally Ethan’s somewhat breathless, “Hello?”