by Jane Graves
“That’s enough.”
“—that if you don’t do something to find some kind of connection in your life, you’re going to turn forty, then fifty, and you’ll have nothing but the memory of a thousand faceless women to keep you warm at night.”
“I said stop it!”
“I can’t stand the thought of that happening, Tony. I just can’t stand—”
“Will you just get the hell out of my life?”
His shout reverberated through the empty room, slicing right into her heart. He slung the lime aside, huffing with anger. As loud as his voice had been before, the silence now was deafening. He was bitter toward his father, and he was still bitter toward her for making him face something he didn’t want to accept. And he probably would be forever.
“Okay,” Heather said quietly. “I’ll leave.” She walked around the bar and grabbed her purse, her knees shaking so hard she could barely walk. She came back around and headed for the door, only to stop halfway there and turn back.
“You know, I really am a fool,” she said.
“What are you talking about?”
“For all the logic I brought to this situation, for all the warnings I gave myself, for all the times I told myself this was for a month and no more . . .” Her voice stuttered, and she swallowed hard to keep it steady. “It happened, anyway.”
“What happened, anyway?”
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. You’ll regret it. But still she heard the words coming out of her mouth.
“I fell in love with you.”
Tony looked away, and a long silence stretched between them. When he slowly turned his gaze back to meet hers, it was cold as ice.
“Sweetheart, if I had a dime for every woman who’s told me that, I wouldn’t have needed a trip to Vegas to buy this bar.”
Heather felt a jolt of sorrow that went straight to her soul. Even though she’d known it was impossible, one tiny part of her thought it might make a difference if he actually heard the words.
It hadn’t made a difference at all.
“Like I said,” Heather told him, “I’m a fool. Why else would I have fallen in love with a man who’s not capable of loving anyone?”
On the verge of tears, she turned around and walked as calmly as she could toward the door, hoping to get out of there before she started to cry. But still she hoped he’d stop her. What he might say to her if he did, she didn’t know, but she didn’t want to leave it like this.
“Heather?”
Her heart jolted hard. She turned back around.
“Yes?”
“In case you’re wondering,” he said, “I’ll be there for the wedding tomorrow. I won’t screw that up for Regina.”
And?
And nothing. What had made her think there might be something else?
“Then I’ll see you at the wedding,” she said. “And don’t worry. I’ll move out of your apartment tomorrow morning.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I’ll go to Alison’s. And then a few days after the wedding, I’ll tell my family we’re splitting up.”
“I said you don’t have to move out. I promised you that I’d stick it out until the end.”
“Tony,” she said. “This is the end.”
His face never changed. He just looked at her with that cold expression, then turned back to his drink, dismissing her as if they’d never meant anything to each other at all.
Heather left the building, and once she was outside, she hurried to her car, fumbling through her purse for her keys. She clicked the door locks, barely getting inside before her throat tightened and the tears came.
She’d been denying it for some time now, telling herself she was just infatuated with Tony because of the good times they’d had together. But now that she realized it was something more, a feeling of despair overwhelmed her. It wasn’t until tonight that she saw so clearly how much he needed a loving person in his life. She wanted to be that loving person, and he was never going to let her.
When Tony opened his eyes the next morning, shafts of morning sunlight stabbed through the window, penetrating his eyeballs and lodging directly in his brain. He snapped his eyes shut again and rolled away, which evidently was the cue for a jackhammer to start pounding away at his head.
He’d died and gone to hell.
He rolled over and saw the empty bed beside him and remembered.
Yes. It was hell, all right.
When he’d come home last night, his bed had been empty. The door to Heather’s bedroom had been closed. No light shone from beneath the door. He’d gone back to his room and fallen into bed by himself, blessedly passing out the moment his head hit the pillow.
If only he could have kept on sleeping.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, putting his hand to his head to ease the throbbing, dreading the thought of facing Heather after what had happened between them last night. He got up to go to the kitchen for aspirin and coffee, only to glance down the hall and see her bedroom door open. He looked inside.
She was gone. So were all her things.
He just stood there, staring at the empty room. She’d left that morning while he was sleeping, and he hadn’t even heard her. She’d said she was going to do it, but he didn’t think she actually would.
So it really was the end.
He staggered into the living room and glanced toward the fireplace. The wall above it was blank.
You hated that damned portrait. Be glad it’s gone.
He headed for the coffeepot, only to see a small package on his dining room table, wrapped in shiny silver paper. There was a note beside it, written in Heather’s careful script: I was going to give you this last night before everything fell apart.
He sat down at the table and picked up the envelope beside the package. He pulled out the card it contained and opened it.
Congratulations on your grand opening! I know you’re going to be a huge success. Here’s a little reminder that sometimes miracles do happen. Love, Heather.
Tony’s throat tightened as he read that word. Love. When she’d written this, she’d meant exactly that. She loved him, and he hadn’t even realized it. She’d looked up at him last night with that plaintive expression, as if she was begging him to understand something he was incapable of understanding. And he’d just sat there pretending not to notice her eyes clouded with tears and that damned look on her face.
She’d broken their pact. Fun and games, kiss and tease, but once it was over, it was over. Damn it. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love. But somehow she’d edged her way into his life, taking over part of him he’d never intended to give away. All the family crap she thought was so important only made him wary, because sooner or later, it was all an illusion. The people you loved could be gone tomorrow. The people you loved might not love you. Every single time he’d given a piece of himself away, he never got it back. He’d spent his entire childhood and adolescence stringing pieces of himself all over the world, and there was only so much left he had to give.
He picked up the package and carefully ripped the paper away to find something in a small shadowbox frame.
A single ten-dollar casino chip.
Tony froze, staring at the chip, his mind rushing back to the thrill of that night, to the groundswell of exhilaration that had culminated in a wild ride to a wedding chapel.
Heather was right. Miracles did happen. And then sometimes they fell apart at the seams.
He set the chip down and dropped his head, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.
You wanted me to follow in your footsteps, Dad? Well there you go. I finally have. I treated a woman who loves me like shit. Proud of me now?
Then he remembered. The wedding was this afternoon. Heather would be there, undoubtedly looking at him the same way she had last night. Good God, he didn’t want to deal with that.
Then he looked over at the pile of mail he’d brought in yesterday but had been t
oo busy to open. There were two identical envelopes, one addressed to him and one to Heather. They were from the Clark County Courthouse in Las Vegas.
It was official. They were no longer husband and wife. Tony just stared at the envelopes, feeling numb all over.
Suddenly his cell phone rang. He grabbed it from the kitchen counter where he’d left it last night and answered it.
“Tony?” Kayla said. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Uh . . . yeah. Sure. I’m fine. Why are you—”
Then he saw the clock on the stove. It was nearly noon. The day was overcast, so he hadn’t realized . . .
“God, Kayla, I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his temple. “I guess I celebrated a little hard last night and overslept.”
“Hey, you had a right to celebrate. The grand opening was a huge success.”
“I’ll be in just as soon as I can get a shower.”
“Don’t worry. The crowd’s light. I’ve got it covered.”
“Thanks.”
Tony hung up, put on a pot of coffee, then hopped into the shower. Twenty minutes later, he left his apartment, and by the time he reached the bar, rain clouds hovered overhead, gray and dreary, a perfect commentary on his frame of mind. When he pulled into the parking lot, he imagined Heather’s car there, as it had been so many times in the past several weeks. But it wasn’t, of course. After what he’d said to her last night, once the wedding was over this afternoon, he knew he’d never see her again.
He went inside the building. Since it was Sunday lunch, the music was relatively muted, but still the bass seemed to pound right into his brain.
Aspirin. He needed more aspirin.
He started toward his office, only to glance to the bar, where one man sat having a drink. And when he saw who that one man was, he stopped short in disbelief.
His father, Don McCaffrey.
Chapter 24
Tony approached slowly, and his father turned around. He’d changed very little. He still had the military haircut, the piercing green eyes, the jawline that looked as if it had been carved from stone. Even in casual clothes, he looked as if he was ready for inspection.
“What are you doing here?” Tony asked.
“I got your invitation.”
The invitation. The one Heather never should have sent in the first place. Tony felt that age-old anger simmer inside him.
“You’re a little late. The grand opening was last night.”
“I know.” He looked down the bar, where Lisa was drawing a glass of beer. “Do you think we could go someplace and talk?”
“No need. You won’t be staying long.”
His father sighed. “Look, Tony—”
“No, you look,” Tony said, dropping his voice to an angry whisper. “You get an invitation, and what do you do? You wander in here a day late. That’s been the story of my life. You showing up late. If you bothered to show up at all.”
“I just want a few minutes.”
Tony glared at his father a moment more, then reluctantly led him into his office. He shut the door behind them and sat down in his desk chair, gripping the arms so hard his fingers ached, his heart beating like crazy. He hated that his father had this kind of effect on him, and he did everything in his power to quell it. His father sat down on the edge of the sofa, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him.
“I would have come,” he said, “but I was out of town.”
“Also the story of my life.”
“On my honeymoon.”
Tony froze. “What did you say?”
“I got married. I know. It’s crazy. But after all these years, I found a woman who’ll put up with me. Imagine that.”
Tony couldn’t imagine that. Not for one moment. His father . . . married?
Then he remembered seeing him in that formal shop last Saturday. How could he have known the man was picking up a tux for his own wedding?
“Yeah, I know,” Don went on. “I didn’t tell you I was getting married. I should have. Rachel tried to get me to, but I was too damned stubborn.”
“Rachel?”
“My wife. She told me I should ask you to come to the wedding. It was just a small one, but you’re my son, you know? She couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t invite you.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. I—” He stopped short, shaking his head helplessly. “I guess things were so bad between us the last time we were together . . .”
God, yes, they were. Because you couldn’t stop judging your son long enough to enjoy a single day together.
“Maybe I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” his father said. “I guess I was just too afraid to find out whether you would or not.”
Until that moment, Tony had been certain the world would turn to dust before he’d ever hear his father say he was afraid of anything.
“We talked about it a lot on our honeymoon,” Don went on. “Rachel told me regret is a terrible thing, so I had to try. And then we got home today and I saw that invitation . . .” He shook his head. “I realized you had more guts than I did.”
But he hadn’t had any guts at all. If not for Heather dropping that invitation in a mailbox, they wouldn’t even be here talking.
But it didn’t matter. None of this mattered. If his father thought a lifetime of pain could be erased this easily, he needed to think again.
“You can’t just walk in here after all this time and expect me to forgive and forget,” Tony said, his voice trembling. “You’ve made my life hell.”
His father closed his eyes, and for a moment, Tony had a flashback to his childhood, to those moments when he’d angered his father and watched the calm before the storm. But when he opened his eyes again, there was no anger in them.
Just sadness.
“You’re right,” Don said. “I can’t. I don’t expect you to forgive me for a damned thing. I just wanted to tell you I was sorry I wasn’t around to come here last night. I would have, Tony. If only I’d known.”
Tony’s stomach was in turmoil. It was coming. It had to be. No matter what his father was saying, sooner or later, Commander McCaffrey would reappear to start in on his son all over again. He’d find some way to find fault. No matter how successful Tony appeared to be, his father would find a way to slap him down.
“So how did the grand opening go?” his father asked.
“It was all right.”
“I like that you put your name on the place. That’s good.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Tony felt his emotions being pulled in ten different directions, and he stared down at his desk so he wouldn’t give any of them away.
“Look, son, I just came by to tell you I was sorry for missing things last night. So I guess . . . I guess I’ll be going now.”
He started to stand up. Then he stopped, hovering for a moment before sitting down again with a heavy sigh. He turned his gaze up and looked Tony straight in the eye.
“Here’s the truth, Tony. By all rights, an old bastard like me should have ended up dying alone. And then one day I turned around and there she was. Rachel. I’m actually getting a second chance to be a decent husband. And that scares the crap out of me. I’m not sure I’m up to the task, but I don’t want to lose her, either. So I guess I’ll just have to give it everything I’ve got and pray to God it’s enough.”
Tony had a flash of what he’d told Heather. I couldn’t hold up my end of a real marriage if my life depended on it. In that regard, he was just like his father. Only his father was trying to get over it. He said he was, anyway. Could Tony really believe it?
“I didn’t listen to Rachel about our wedding. I refused to let her invite you. But then when we came home and saw your invitation, she told me to get my ass over here or I’d regret it for the rest of my life.” He shook his head. “I swear I never talked to raw recruits the way she talks to me sometimes.”
Tony couldn’t fathom that. He couldn’t fathom an
yone on earth talking like that to his father and expecting to walk away alive.
Except maybe the woman he loved.
“Your mother. I loved her, Tony. You have no idea how much. I know I didn’t show it. My father was a hard-ass military man, and he raised me to be just like him.”
Tony heard what his father was saying, but it still felt wrong, it had to be wrong, and every nerve in his body was strung so tight his limbs ached.
“And after she died,” Don went on, “there you were, a kid I couldn’t understand to save my life. Everything was a lark to you. You didn’t give a damn about your grades. I can’t count the times I got calls, telling me you refused to get serious in class and that you were getting in trouble outside of class. I wanted you to toe the line, but you wanted a different line altogether. And I just didn’t know how to deal with it.” He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. “All the crap that’s happened between us . . . it’s my fault. Every last damned bit of it.”
Tony’s mind was in turmoil. It just wasn’t possible that his father had walked in here after all this time and was telling him things like this. And even if the man meant every word, what was Tony supposed to say? Hey, Dad, no hard feelings? Let’s go have a drink?
“I didn’t exactly make it easy for you,” Tony said. “Especially when I was a teenager.”
“Yeah, but you were a kid. What was my excuse?”
Tony didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t even look at his father. He just let the man’s words tumble over him, telling himself he’d sort it all out later, once his brain was no longer in shock and his hands weren’t shaking. Why were his hands shaking? He gripped the arms of his chair tighter still.
“I’d like you to meet Rachel,” his father said. “And she’d like to meet you. But I’m leaving it up to you to decide if you want that. All you have to do is say when and where, and we’ll be there. Night or day. Just say the word. But even if I don’t hear from you”—he swallowed hard—“I’ll love you just the same.”
He rose from the sofa. He put his hand on the doorknob, then turned back, and Tony swore he saw his father’s eyes glistening.
