Perseverance (Disenchanted Book 2)

by L. D. Davis

  I got dressed in the gray shirt and a pair of leggings. Jeans would have been warmer, but my leg was sore from exercising for the first time in over a year, so the leggings were more comfortable. I blew my hair dry and left it down the way he liked it before I went downstairs to wait for him. It wasn’t long before he came through the door with a duffel slung over one shoulder.

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  I smiled, genuinely happy to see him. “Hi.”

  He swept me into a hug and kissed me hard. “I’ve missed you.”

  “You were only gone five days.”

  One of his brows arched. “Are you saying you didn’t miss me?”

  My chin went up as I tried to appear indifferent. “Were you gone? I didn’t notice.”

  He popped me on the ass once, making me yelp. “Smartass. I’m glad you’re dressed. I’m starving. I’ll take my bag upstairs and make a pit stop in the little boy’s room and we’ll go.”

  “All right. What are you in the mood for?”

  He stopped at the end of the hall near the stairs and looked me up and down. “You. Always you.”

  Ugh. I hated how he had the ability to make me blush and feel all melty and hot inside. I never used to be the blushing type before Marco Mangini.

  I shook my head at him. “I’m not on the menu. Go tinkle.”

  “Maybe not for lunch, but possibly for dessert,” he said with a waggle of his brows before he went upstairs.

  He returned a few minutes later with a perplexed look on his face.

  “What’s wrong? What’s that face for?”

  He walked by me, his eyes on the ceiling. “I think there’s a leak in the bathroom. Have you noticed any water coming from the ceiling?”

  I sighed and pointed to a spot in the dining room. “Over there in the corner.”

  He took a dining room chair to stand on so he could reach the darkening patch on the ceiling.

  “When did you first see it?” he asked absently.

  “I don’t know. Two weeks ago? It was a little smaller. I’ve been keeping an eye on it, but I’m not sure where it’s coming from.”

  Marco turned narrow eyes on me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I shrugged and shook my head. “Because it’s not your problem?”

  His expression darkened as he stepped down. “Any problem of yours is a problem of mine. We need to call a plumber.”

  “I can’t afford a plumber.”

  “How fortunate you are to have a wealthy boyfriend.”

  I grimaced. “You’re my boyfriend, not my own personal bank account. This one isn’t up for debate, Marco.”

  “You’re right. It’s not up for debate. I’ll call the plumber myself Monday.”

  He took my hand and led me toward the front of the house.

  “Do you want me to start throwing things at you again?” I growled.

  He pulled me into his body and put his hands on my ass. “You can throw your body at me.”

  He silenced any of my protests with a deep kiss as he backed me against the front door and ground himself into me. I groaned just before I managed to tear my mouth from his.

  “I thought you were starving,” I panted as he kissed my neck.

  “I feel like being naughty and having my dessert first.”

  Those were the last sensible words either of us said over the next two hours. I didn’t mind the deviation, because that meant Marco was distracted. Then again, he probably thought he was distracting me from him once again flinging his money around like it grew on a bush in the backyard.

  Eventually, we left the house and went to our favorite restaurant for some takeout. On the way there, while we waited for our order, and on the way back, Marco talked a lot about his brother. At first, he just talked about his diagnosis and his visit, but when he started to tell me stories about his times with Massimo, I really began to see the toll his brother’s illness had taken on him. He smiled and laughed through a lot of it, but there was a note of sadness behind it all. The words flowed out of him with a sense of urgency, as if he were afraid the memories would fade if he didn’t get them out.

  He also spoke of Celia, the one that got away. I didn’t know much about her, but just her name on his lips made me feel funny, kind of itchy inside. It wasn’t necessarily jealousy, but I did feel discomfort as he talked about the little time they spent together during his short stay in Italy.

  When we got home, Marco checked the leak with a big frown, but he didn’t mention calling a plumber again. It was still early in the evening, and I figured we would take our food and some wine and settle down with a movie or binge watch a show on Netflix or something. While in New York or Philly with his friends, he tended to go out a lot. He was a sociable creature and enjoyed parties, going to expensive restaurants, and lounging at clubs or going to shows, but over the past several weeks, he’d been doing those things less and less, preferring to be home at a decent hour to talk to me and the kids. When he was with us in Ohio, he liked to just stay at home and find things to do around the house, whether it be vegging in front of the television, playing a game with the kids, or just drinking a bottle of wine and talking. I loved that about him, loved to see him be normal and homely, but secretly, I didn’t want him to stop being the same guy who jaunted all over New York City. That guy meant just as much to me as the one who watched Netflix with me on the weekends and played teatime with the girls.

  I followed him into the kitchen, chatting with him about the kids’ upcoming school events.

  “And the Snowflake Dance is coming up in early December. I just have to make sure that Cliff isn’t in Florida that week.”

  He glanced at me as he reached to the top of the fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine. Before Marco, the only alcohol I’d had in the house had been a couple years old. Now, there was always at least two new bottles of wine available. Either he brought it with him from New York or we purchased it together. I had never known how much sweeter life could be with a glass of wine at the end of the day—or in the middle of the day. Really, any time of the day.

  “What is the Snowflake Dance?”

  “It’s a daddy and daughter dance. The Sweetheart Dance, which is the mother and son dance is in May. My mom went with Gavi last school year. This time I think I want to go with him, even though I’m not sure how much dancing I can do. I don’t want to embarrass the kid.”

  “You won’t embarrass him. He will be happy to have you there.”

  I knew how mean kids could be about their peers’ parents, but I didn’t say anything. We would only go back and forth on it without agreeing in the end. He took two glasses from the cabinet and gave me a cautious look. It almost seemed like he wanted to say something but was holding back, which was unusual for Marco.

  “What?” I asked reluctantly.

  The glasses clinked together in his big hand. “Well, if Cliff is unavailable to go to the dance with Cora, I can go with her. In fact, I would love to go with her.”

  My eyebrows popped up. “Really?”

  He frowned. “Yes, really. Don’t look so surprised. It’s insulting.”

  “I’m sorry. I just didn’t realize you were prepared to go that far.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? I told you I wasn’t going anywhere, didn’t I?”

  Hesitantly, I agreed. “You did say that.”

  His frown deepened. “But you still don’t believe me.”

  I exhaled. “I’m trying to believe you.”

  With a deep exhale of his own, he gestured toward the family room. “Come on. It’s time for that talk.”

  I didn’t move when he started out of the kitchen. He stopped a few feet away in the dining room and looked at me. “Did you think I’d forgotten? I said I’m not going anywhere, but I am going to ask you only one question, and I want you to answer with honesty. Not partial honesty, but with every honest ounce of your body.”

  Those were the same words he’d used the day of our first date, when he had appeared on
my doorstep unexpectedly. He’d given me the option to end things right then and there. Hearing those words now made me wring my hands as fear bloomed in my chest.

  Marco took the few steps back to me, wine glasses and wine bottle still in his hands. “Do you want to be in a relationship with me? Before you respond, I want you to know what being in a relationship with me entails. Are you listening?”

  I nodded but couldn’t find actual words to use.

  “Okay. It is very simple. I will love you, and I will love your children. I will care for you and care for your children. I will be respectful and supportive, and I will be faithful. That means I will not want anyone else but you. I promise, Lydia. Tell me right now you don’t want to be with me. If you say it, and you mean it, I will leave.”

  My hands moved restlessly together. “You are putting me on the spot here. It’s kind of an important, thought-provoking—”

  “Tesoro, you know by now,” he cut me off smoothly without raising his voice, a slight smile on his face. “It’s a yes, or it’s a no.”

  “I do know,” I said softly.

  His brow arched, but he remained silent.

  “Yes—I mean no. I mean…what I meant to say is, yes.” I inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “I mean yes, I want to be in a relationship with you.”

  His smile was so perfect, so damn beautiful and perfect. “That’s a yes for me, too.”

  “But I’m scared shitless,” I blurted.

  He leaned in for a quick, sweet kiss. “Well, let’s see if we can’t fix that.”

  I started out with small bites of food. The tension in my jaw made it hard to chew, and whatever had climbed into my throat and swelled to the size of a golf ball made it difficult to swallow. I expected Marco to jump right into things, and I would’ve been forced to eat Banh Xeo and Bun bo Nam bo—some of the most delicious foodstuff that has ever been in my mouth—while relaying my sob story of a life with Gavin, but he kept the conversation light while we ate and steered away from anything emotional. Between the banal chatter, the glasses of wine, and the good meal, I didn’t feel so anxious after a while. It was still difficult to start when the time came, but the more I said, the easier it became.

  “I have to be honest with you. I never wanted any of this.” I waved my hand around to encompass not just the house, but everything that was normally in it. “Before Gavin and I took an unexpected path in life, I didn’t want the nuclear family. I didn’t want to be tied to anyone. I didn’t want a husband and kids and the whole lifestyle that accompanies raising a family. I wanted to be free to go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted, with whomever I wanted and do whatever the hell I felt like doing. Settling down and doing the family thing was something Lily had planned on, not me.”

  “So, how did you end up with Gavin, who clearly wanted that family life with Lily?” Marco asked. His tone was pure curiosity, without accusation or judgment.

  My cheeks still turned red though, because I could never escape the shame and repercussions of my actions.

  “Gavin got a job in Cleveland, but Lily still had a year of school left because of the time she’d missed after they lost their baby. They agreed that he would come back to Ohio to work and establish their home while she finished up her schooling, even though they were both still reeling from their loss. Lily had gone into a black hole for months, and Gav internalized everything, so he could take care of her. The separation was hard on both of them. I was going to school in Cleveland and lived on the other side of the city from where he had established home base for him and Lily. We had always been friends. I’d known him since I was a little girl. It didn’t seem unusual or anything to anyone for us to spend time together. I couldn’t do much for Lily with her being so far away, but I tried to be there for Gavin. She asked me to, and I wanted to. We met up for dinner all the time, and we always traveled together back here to have dinner with his parents and my mom every other Sunday. We even went to visit Lily together a couple times. When it was still warm, we met for lunch in the park near his office two or three times a week.”

  I looked away from Marco before I began to speak words I had never said aloud, not even to Lily when I’d tried to explain myself with weepy apologies all those years ago.

  “In the weeks leading up to the anniversary of Anna’s death, Gavin was understandably morose. He was trying to be there for Lily while juggling the challenges of a new job in a new city, and he had never really mourned for his daughter. I’m not making excuses for him or for me, but I think he felt alone in his grief because he didn’t want to put it on my sister. I told you she’d been in a dark place, and it had been scary to all of us. The night everything changed, we had been out for a run. I thought it would help him—and it did. He was in a good mood afterward, and I was always in a good mood back then, nothing like I am now. I was playful and happy.”

  “You’re sweaty.”

  There was something in his voice, and in the way he looked at me that made my stomach twist. I pushed back a few wisps of my hair that had escaped my ponytail, tucked it behind my ear, and tried to keep my tone light.

  “Yeah, so are you. You’re way sweatier than me, and you stink.”

  He took one step toward me, threateningly. “Oh, you think so?”

  I quickly put my glass down and held up both hands to ward him off. “Don’t even think about it.”

  He took another menacing step and played dumb, with his eyes narrowed in false confusion. “Don’t even think about what? I just want a hug. Come on, give me a hug, Lyd.”

  I squealed and jumped back when he reached for me. “Gavin! Stop it. I don’t want any of your body funk on me.”

  “Come on, Lyd. What’s a little body funk between lifelong friends?”

  Another squeal came out of me when he reached for me again. I ran into the living room, where he caught up to me near the couch. I laughed and shouted as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him to rub his sweaty chest all over my back.

  “Oh my God, you’re so gross!”

  I managed to escape from his arms and had just enough time to spin around, planning to push him away. If he wouldn’t back off, I would threaten to tell his mom on him, which was immature and silly, but all these years later, the threat worked just as well as it had when we were little kids. Except, suddenly, this was nothing like our playful fights as little kids, or like anything since then. Nothing about our behavior was unusual, until he reached for my waist again, and I backed up and fell on the couch, and Gavin, losing his balance, fell on top of me.

  Wheezing and laughing, I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed. He wasn’t that much bigger than me, but he didn’t budge, and that was where my humor evaporated. Gavin stared down at me, something clouding his eyes that I’d never seen before, or at least never directed at me. His chest heaved as if he’d just finished his run seconds ago and not a quarter of an hour ago.

  “Gav…”

  No more words came, because he was kissing me. Gavin, the guy I had known my whole life, who was like family to me, the man who was my sister’s fiancé—was kissing me. And the worst part was that I kissed him back.

  There was nothing sweet in our actions, nothing soft, and nothing slow. Our lips moved together in fierce desperation, and in moments, my shorts and panties were down, caught around my left ankle. It was like we were in a hurry to start before either of us had time to think about the absolute wrongness of what was happening, or what was about to happen. We fell into the heat of the moment and rolled with it, allowing our physical needs and desires to dominate, and leaving common sense, decency, and loyalty on the wayside.

  I was quiet for a moment after I told Marco how things had started with me and Gavin. I sipped my wine to help swallow back the tears that wanted to come. I knew Marco wasn’t judging me, and Lily and I had eventually reconciled, but the shame of it still burned hotly beneath my skin.

  “All of a sudden, all those weeks and months of our time spent together s
eemed to mean something more. We were already out of control, and neither of us knew it. That’s not an excuse. I just mean that all the signs and symptoms of something happening were probably there and we didn’t see any of it, or we chose not to look too closely. We were terrified what it would do to Lily when she found out, and I say when because we were going to eventually confess. We had agreed on that, and we had also agreed to spend some time apart. A couple weeks later, I stopped by his apartment to pick up a jacket I’d left behind. He asked me to stay. He said he was depressed, and honestly, I missed him. So, I stayed. I helped him with dinner, and everything felt so awkward and strange.”

  My vison was unfocused as I stared straight ahead, only seeing that night and not the television or my kids’ pictures, or even Marco, though I was aware of his presence beside me.

  “I wish you would say something,” Gavin said quietly as he turned off the stove.

  One of my brows rose. “What exactly do you want me to say?”

  “I don’t know. Do what you usually do and tease me or make some smartass remark. I don’t like when you’re quiet. It’s not who you are.”

  I leaned away from him, both of my brows up now. “Are you saying I have a big mouth?”

  The corners of his lips lifted a little. “Yeah, basically. Don’t look so surprised. You know you have a big mouth.”

  “So, what do you want me to do? Start hurling insults at you? I’m not sure exactly why it’s falling on just me to keep up the conversation.”

  With a sigh, he turned to face me. There were inches between us, mere inches. “I want you to be yourself. I want me to be myself.”

  I dropped my gaze to the collar of his shirt. “Being ourselves got us in some hot water.”