“Even though you knew everything before we met.”
Her eyes narrowed before she relaxed, and she licked her lips. “Melissa had one of the purest souls of people I ever met. She mourned for you. It tortured her after she learned your truth. What’s the alternative? Do you think that while she was dying and not even yet thirty and not getting to live out her own dreams that she should have held onto that pain and not relieved it the only way she knew how? She gave that pain to men she trusted with hearts big enough to protect the hurting. I can think of nothing less honorable for her.”
Her comment came as a slap, but Jenna wasn’t the wronged one here. I was.
“Good night, Lilly,” she said, as if she knew she’d hurt me but didn’t so much care about that either because she was on the right side. At the door, she slipped back into her heels and glanced over her shoulder. “They’re good men. The best I know outside my own dad. That doesn’t mean they can’t still be stupid or act like idiots on occasion.”
I opened my mouth to argue that they hadn’t just been idiots, but she stopped me before I could and the sadness in her voice, forced me to listen.
“They know they screwed up. Trust me, Hudson definitely knows, and David feels horrible. Even if they knew this was a possibility, they both still absolutely hate how it happened. I’m only here suggesting that if you care for them at all that you listen before you write them off completely.”
Rage and understanding and sadness for what they’d all lost and then done to me flowed through me, invaded my secret places, and then clogged my throat so much so that Jenna was already at the elevator before I could run after her.
“Is he here? Hudson?”
She shook her head. “He’s staying with David. He said he needed to give you space and knew he wouldn’t if he was so close to you. He’s trying to do the right thing. Maybe he always has been. If it’s any consolation… I truly don’t think he meant to fall for you so deeply.”
“He… what?”
I blinked and then the doors opened. She stepped inside with a sad smile on her face, shaking her head. Holding open the door, she said, “You have seen terrors and hardships and abuse and darkness I cannot possibly fathom. You’ve also had such very little good in your life, and for that, I’m so sorry you can’t see that love he has for you when he looks at you. It’s so obvious to the rest of us.”
She released her hand and the doors slid closed behind her. My knees wobbled so hard I clung to the doorframe for support.
You can’t see the love he has for you.
But I had seen it. The night we made love it shone so brightly from him I couldn’t deny it.
And the very next day and ever since, I’ve treated it like it was nothing.
“Shit.” I plodded into my apartment, shut and locked my door, and went straight to the envelope.
Inside was a folded piece of thick, cream stationary.
I opened it and tried to ignore my trembling fingers or the erratic beat of my heart.
Lunch at Creme Cupcake on Sunday? 12:30pm
I would very much like to explain the full story.
This was all my doing, and I am so sorry you’re hurting.
Please.
David
7
Lilly
I had a day and a half to prepare myself to see David again. Strange how months ago, he was the one coming to the diner where I worked, where multiple times a week he would sit at the bar and order a piece of pie. He asked me about school. My classes.
What would have happened had I never offered to take a look at his SUV the night I caught him pulling up mechanics on his iPad? Would we still be doing the quiet and awkward dance at Judith’s? Or would we still be right here? Me, dragging my feet down Ingersoll, kicking puffs of freshly fallen snow out of my way on my way to see him, thirty minutes late—partly on purpose, partly because by the time I finally made the decision to come and listen to him, the bus had already left, and I had to wait for a new one.
He was easy to spot with his full head of graying hair and clothes still too expensive and crisp and clean for the place. They served alcohol at night and matched some of their drinks to their dessert flavors, a fact I knew only because Hudson brought me here and ordered one of everything to try. It wasn’t a date, but it’d still felt like it. Hudson—giving me everything I lacked, me—taking it and storing it like brightly colored Easter eggs in my memory banks.
My stomach churned and I shifted my weight on my feet as I stayed back from the door until I gathered up my basket case of emotions and stuffed them all neatly inside. Before I realized it happened, David had been more of a father to me than my own had ever been.
Then I found out he lied. He orchestrated this entire, nasty, and painful debacle.
Did I want to hear what he had to say?
My gloved hand reached for the door handle to the adorable and sweet dessert and wine bar before I’d realized I made my decision.
Once, I wasn’t given explanations or grace when I desperately needed it. I wouldn’t make that same mistake again.
I trudged inside, kicked off wet snow and dirt and salt onto their large welcome mat and made my way to where David sat, one table down from where Hudson and I had. Did he know this? Did Hudson go home to his dad after our encounters and replay everything?
I shook the thought away and yanked off my hat. No. Hudson wouldn’t do that. I might be furious with him and still hurting, but that wasn’t who he was either.
Like Hudson had also done, David’s back was to other customers, leaving me with a seat so I could see everything. That was more likely because he was a gentleman, giving me the better seat.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I said. My hands tangled together and twisted, and I shifted my weight.
If David was surprised at my sudden appearance, he didn’t say anything. He turned his head and tilted up, giving me a half-smile. “I’m thankful you’re here at all. Would you like to sit?”
He gestured to the chair across from him and I slid into it, removing my coat and scarf and stuffed my gloves into my purse.
On the table was a half-eaten piece of cheesecake, along with at least six different kinds of cupcakes on a tray and a glass of water. David cupped a mug of what I assumed was coffee.
“You didn’t need to do this for me.”
“I think I have many things to make amends for with you, and Hudson told me you liked the treats here.”
He looked like he hadn’t slept. Possibly close to the reflection I saw in my mirror this morning because I certainly knew I hadn’t.
It was that familiar sadness I always saw in his eyes that had some of the anxiousness lifting. I scanned the desserts he’d already had delivered and managed what I hoped was a smile. “Thank you.”
I reached for my glass of water and took a sip. The glass shook in my hands and I set it back down and clasped my hands together in my lap so he couldn’t see how they trembled. This was nerve-wracking, so much more so than any other time I’d met David.
After a beat of silence that stretched the awkwardness, I finally met his gaze.
“I’m not sure what to say or do here,” I admitted.
He cleared his throat and set down his coffee. “That’s because it’s my job to explain only I don’t know how even though I’ve run through this many times in the last few days.”