by Marie Force
“A few.”
“You can ask me anything, Eric. I promise to be honest with you.”
“That means a lot to me, as you can imagine.”
“When you first told me about Brittany, I realized there were similarities between your story and mine.”
“Except the one you loved didn’t launch an intricate plot to exit your life.”
“Didn’t he? When you think about it, that’s exactly what he did. He knew the whole time we were together that it was highly likely he could get called to duty that would take him away from me indefinitely, and he never told me. Probably because he couldn’t, but that doesn’t make it right. Perhaps his reasons are more honorable than hers were, but the carnage left behind is quite similar.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” After another long pause, he says, “Are you ready for something new, Ava?”
“I want to be.” I promised him the truth, and that’s what I give him.
“Me, too.”
“Well, to quote a country song I used to like, that’s a real fine place to start.”
“Yes, it is. What do you see happening now?”
“I’d like to spend more time with you and see how it goes, but only if that’s what you want, too.”
“It’s what I want.”
“Even after everything I told you?”
“Even then.” He runs his fingers through my hair, making my scalp tingle with awareness. “When I woke up this morning, my mind was full of thoughts of you and last night and how much I enjoy being with you. It’s such a welcome relief to be thinking about something positive. It’s a welcome relief to have found you.”
“I feel the same way.”
“Almost all I’ve thought about since kissing you last night is how long I’ll have to wait until I can do it again.”
“What’re you doing right now?”
“Right now as in right now?”
I laugh at his boyish befuddlement, which I know is all an act. He’s a man in every sense of the word. “Unless you’re too busy, of course.”
“Never too busy for you.” He leans in slowly, keeping his eyes open and fixed on my face as he touches his lips to mine in the lightest possible caress. Pulling back, he studies me intently for a long, breathless moment before he comes back for more. He hooks a leg over the tiller so he can keep the boat on course while he uses both hands to frame my face and kiss me more intently.
I’m not thinking about anything other than him when I open my mouth to his tongue and moan from the desire that reawakens within me.
As if a switch has been thrown, I’m suddenly dying for more. With all my senses on full alert, I realize how numb I’ve been for all this time until Eric kissed me and touched me and made me feel alive again. Our kisses are desperate and needy and deliciously carnal. After sharing my story with him, I’m no longer burdened by the things I’ve kept to myself. I’m set free from my painful past. I’m ready for this. I’m ready for him.
“God, Ava,” he says when we finally come up for air. His face is flushed, his heated gaze full of emotion. “Where did you come from?”
“I believe it was your brother’s wedding.”
He smiles and caresses my cheek. “I’m feeling a sudden, urgent need to get back to the city.”
“Funny, because I seem to have the same urgent need.”
The sound that comes from him is a cross between a tortured groan and a fierce growl. “Who the hell had the big idea to go sailing?”
I can’t help the gurgle of laughter that comes out of me, earning a glare from him as he directs the boat toward home.
He keeps his arm around me, but we don’t say anything in the forty minutes it takes to get back to the dock. Working together, we drop the sails, secure the boat and clean up as quickly as possible. With each minute that passes in charged silence, the tension between us seems to multiply.
I’m buzzing like I’ve consumed an entire bottle of champagne, but I’m remarkably clearheaded when I take his hand and let him help me off the boat. He keeps a tight grip on my hand as we walk up the dock to rejoin the others. I keep waiting for him to let me go before we get to where they can see us holding hands, but he doesn’t let go.
I’m so caught up in what’s happening between us that I don’t immediately notice that something’s amiss on the deck.
Eric stops short and releases my hand. “What’s going on?”
Chapter Twelve
AVA
Amy brushes at tears, Jules stares at the deck, and Camille, looking stricken, is holding Rob, who seems gutted. What the hell happened? There’s no sign of my parents or Sarah Beth, but Bob is sitting among his other children.
“Could someone please tell me what the hell is wrong?” Eric says when we arrive on the deck.
I want to run away. Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. For the first time in forever, I feel good. I don’t want to lose that feeling. I don’t want to hear what they’re going to say.
Amy gets up, wipes her face and comes over to hug Eric.
He bristles. “What the fuck, Amy?”
“Mom and Dad are getting divorced.”
He goes completely still. “What?”
“Come have a seat, son,” Bob says.
“I don’t want to sit. I want someone to tell me what the hell happened in the last two hours.”
I want to put my arm around him or do something to comfort him, but I sense it wouldn’t be welcome, so I stand awkwardly at his side, feeling as if I’m watching a slow-moving accident happen right in front of me.
“We were hanging out,” Jules says, “and this guy came. He said he was a friend of Mom’s and needed her to come with him. He… he acted like he had some kind of right to be here.” She swipes a hand across her face, angrily swatting at tears. “She said she loves us all very much, but she can’t live a lie anymore. She… she left with him.”
Oh. My. God. I can’t believe this is happening. I shouldn’t be here. It’s none of my business, but my feet are anchored in place. I can’t move or breathe or do anything other than ache for Eric and his family. I catch Camille’s gaze and see that my sister is similarly affected. The euphoria I experienced on the boat suddenly seems like it happened days ago when it was only an hour.
“It’s been going on for a while,” Bob says.
“You knew?” Eric stares at his father.
“I knew.”
“This is why you aren’t running for reelection, isn’t it?” Rob asks in a dull, flat tone that sounds nothing like him. “I couldn’t figure out why you won’t meet with the party about the Senate race or the reelection campaign. This is why.”
“Yes,” Bob says.
“You’re just going to let this happen?” Eric asks his father.
“What would you have me do?”
His quiet dignity in the face of catastrophe touches me deeply. I wish I had the right to hug him. The poor guy.
“Is this why we’re here today?” Eric asks. “So you guys could drop this bomb on us?”
“I had no idea he was going to come here today,” Bob replies. “I never would’ve subjected any of you to such a spectacle. Camille and Ava, I apologize that you and your parents had to be part of something like this.”
I can’t bear that he feels the need to apologize to me.
“Please don’t worry about us,” Camille says. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”
Bob shrugs. “It’s not the first time, but it will be the last time.”
“What?” Amy cries. “She’s done this before?”
“Several times,” Bob says. “But this one is different, apparently.”
Rob stands so abruptly, he nearly displaces Camille from her spot on the love seat next to him. “I can’t hear any more of this.” He takes her hand and heads for the stairs.
Camille looks over her shoulder and catches my eye. She looks haunted as she scurries to keep up with her husband’s stride.
Jules goes to sit
next to her father. “Why did you put up with it, Dad?”
“Because I love her. I’ve always loved her.”
Jules rests her head on her father’s shoulder.
Eric takes a step back. “I… I need to go.” He starts toward the stairs and then seems to remember he didn’t come alone. “Ava, please. Let’s go.”
I feel like I should say something to Bob, but what could I say that would matter to him? I follow Eric down the stairs. “I need my bag from the pool house.”
“I’ll be in the car.” He takes off toward the driveway.
I move quickly to retrieve my bag and join him in the car so he won’t have to be here any longer than necessary. I can’t begin to imagine what he’s feeling. As I walk around the house, I dig my phone out of my bag and find a text from my mother.
Holy God, she wrote. What we just witnessed at the Tildens’… Be glad you were sailing. Call me when you can.
The second my door closes, Eric guns the car into reverse and leaves a cloud of dust on the dirt road in his haste to get the hell out of there.
I have so many questions. I want to know if he had any idea his parents’ marriage was in trouble or that his mother was a serial philanderer. I want to know what he’s thinking and how I can help, but the tension in the car is so thick, I can barely breathe, let alone talk.
His tight grip on the wheel turns his knuckles white, and a pulse in his jaw ticks wildly. He barely blinks as he focuses on the road, driving faster than he should. He doesn't say a single word on the hour-long ride to the city. We’re getting close to Tribeca when I can’t bear it any longer.
“Take the car to the garage. You don’t need to be alone tonight.”
“I’m not up for company.”
“Too bad. I’m not letting you deal with this alone.”
“Ava…”
“Would you let me be alone tonight if this had happened to my family?” I already know him well enough to be certain he’d never leave me alone with something like this.
His jaw shifts from one impenetrable expression to another, but he doesn’t argue the point. A few blocks later, he takes a series of turns that put us in front of a metal garage door. He uses a keycard to gain access, and the door opens with a loud clatter of metal. Inside, he drives down a couple of levels and parks in an assigned spot. We gather our belongings, he locks the car, and we walk toward a stairwell that delivers us to the street level.
He takes my hand, and we head in the opposite direction of my apartment.
I have more questions, but I bite my tongue and decide to follow his lead. Whatever he needs tonight is what he’ll get from me.
Hurt rolls off him in waves that make me ache for him. He’s had enough hurt to last him a lifetime, and now this. I want to wrap my arms around him and make him feel better. If he’ll let me.
ERIC
This can’t be real. If someone had told me this would happen today, I would’ve laughed. My mom the adulteress. It’s preposterous. Except… There’ve been signs over the years that their marriage wasn’t what it could be, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine anything like this.
I realize Ava is having trouble keeping up with me, so I slow my stride.
Ava… I don’t want to expose her to this, especially not after we took such a huge step forward in our relationship today. When we returned from sailing, all I wanted was to get her home as quickly as possible so we could continue what we started on the boat. But then we walked into the disaster unfolding in my family, and now… Now, I don’t know what I want.
This reminds me far too much of the horror that followed Brittany’s deception. I’m sick and sweaty and disgusted. Why do people hurt the ones they claim to love? I’ll never understand that. Maybe thinking like that makes me a pussy, but to me, loving someone means you stay. You put in the time and do the work. You don’t leave or cheat or plot your own disappearance.
We arrive at my building, and I hold the door for Ava to proceed inside ahead of me. If I’d had my way, I would’ve delivered her home and then come home alone, but she wasn’t having that. While I appreciate her support, I’d rather be alone with the bottle of vodka chilling in my freezer.
This is the first time she’s been to my place, but I don’t take the time to show her around. I head directly to the freezer to retrieve the icy bottle and pour a healthy glass for myself and down half of it before I offer some to her.
She shakes her head.
I pour another glass. By the time the second dose reaches my system, I begin to settle somewhat. I refrain from pouring a third round. With my hands on the counter, I let my head drop, hoping to relieve some of the pressure that’s gathered at the base of my neck.
And then Ava is there, massaging my shoulders and soothing the ache inside me with her special brand of sweetness. “What can I do?”
“More of that would be good.” I appreciate that she continues to massage my neck and shoulders but doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with useless platitudes the way some women would have. The way Brittany would have. She couldn’t stand long silences. They made her uncomfortable. With hindsight, I’ve come to see they made her feel insecure. “Feels good.” Then I turn to her, and she wraps her arms around me. I cling to her like a life raft in a stormy sea. “I’m so sorry you had to be part of such an ugly thing.”
“Please don’t apologize. You had no way to know that was going to happen. None of you did.”
“She totally staged it so we’d all be there to witness the spectacular end to her marriage. I must’ve disappointed her when I left to go sailing.”
“She acted kind of strange when you said we were going. Antsy was the word I thought of at the time.”
“She wanted us all there to see it go down, but what I don’t get is why. What did we ever do to her to warrant that kind of cruelty?”
“If I had to guess, she’s so caught up in her great escape that she’s not thinking about anyone but herself.”
“That would certainly be true to character.” I withdraw slightly, just enough so I can see her face. “I’m sorry our plans got derailed.”
“Please don’t apologize to me. There’s no need for it.”
“So, this is my place,” I say with a weak smile.
“I sort of figured that when you had the key. It’s nice. I like it.”
I used to like it, too, before I spent time here with Brittany, and she ruined it for me. “Thank you.” I take her hand and give a gentle tug. “Come sit with me.” The loft is one big open room, with twenty-foot ceilings full of industrial piping and beams. A bedroom and bathroom are hidden behind a half wall on the far side. I lead her around the kitchen island to the living room, where a flat-screen TV is mounted to a brick wall above a working fireplace. Still holding hands, we sit close to each other on the sofa.
I wish more than anything we could’ve gone right from the boat to the car and skipped the family drama. I want to recapture the magic I experienced with her on the boat, but the bubble has burst and left me riddled with emotional shrapnel so overwhelming, I can’t begin to process it.
“You want to talk about it?” she asks.
“I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“You had no idea they were having problems?”
“Not this kind of problem, but I don’t spend much time with them these days. I’ve always been closer to my dad, but he’s been crazy busy since he was elected, and I work so much… When we are together, it’s usually a family thing. If there was something amiss, it’d be hard to notice it under those circumstances.”
I review every gathering from the last year—holidays, birthdays, the rare political event I attended to show my support, the wedding…
“The wedding.”
“What about it?”
“She waited to get past it to make her move.”
“You think it was that calculated?”
“I absolutely do. Amy always says she plans everything down to the last pot
ato. She’s the queen of spreadsheets and checklists. There’s no way this was some random occurrence that wasn’t fully thought out ahead of time.”
“I don’t understand why anyone would do that to the people they love.”
“No, you wouldn’t, because you aren’t calculating like she is.” My phone is blowing up, and while I’d prefer to ignore it, I suspect my siblings are talking to each other about what went on today.
I unlock my phone and find thirty-six unread messages in our group chat. As expected, my brother and sisters are in full-on meltdown mode and are wondering where I am. I’m glad to see Jules and Amy decided to stay with Dad tonight, even if he insisted he’d be fine if they left. Rob is in a rage and wants to know who the guy is. What difference does it make, I want to ask. I refrain from sending the text and turn off my phone. The new nightmare will still be there in the morning.
I return my attention to Ava. “I hate that this got in the way of what was a rather great day.”
“There’ll be other great days. Don’t worry.”
I rest my head against the back of the sofa and turn my gaze to her. “You promise?” She’s curled up with her legs under her. I like that she’s made herself comfortable in my space. “You probably want to go home.”
“I’d rather stay here with you.”
“You would?”
Her gaze never wavers when she nods.
“I’ll probably be crappy company.”
“That’s okay. Unless you’d rather be alone…”
“No.” I cover her hand with mine. “I’d much rather be with you than be alone. I even have an extra toothbrush you can have.”
“That’s very nice of you, but I never leave home without my toothbrush.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
“That’s very… obsessive…”
“I always have floss with me, too.”
“You think you know a girl…”
She laughs, and the sound is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard. “I wouldn’t mind borrowing your shower.”
