I was starting to think I might have met this guy just to light a fire under my ass in terms of planning for Sunny’s education.
“If you don’t mind my asking…” Peter suddenly said. “You mentioned this was only your second date with someone you met online. I assume you haven’t been in a relationship since Sunny was born?”
I wished he hadn’t asked that, but I answered honestly. “No. I was in a serious relationship for several months. We started out as friends, and it evolved into something more.”
“I see. What happened?”
I’d nearly cried on the way here. Talking about what happened with Deacon would put me over the edge. “I’d rather not go into it. Let’s just say he freaked out and moved back to Minnesota. He was a good man, but not the one for me, I guess.”
“Fair enough.” Peter nodded and changed the subject.
We spent the next hour talking about much lighter subjects. I discovered Peter had grown up not far from where I did in Wayne, New Jersey. We’d never crossed paths, maybe because he was seven years older. But we had a blast recalling some of the old haunts we’d both frequented, including my favorite diner.
Peter came across as kind and attentive, and dare I say, I was actually enjoying the date. That is, until a text turned my evening on its axis.
No. It rocked my world.
Sharon: Everything’s fine, Carys. But I wanted to give you a heads up. Deacon came by tonight looking for you. It seems he’s back in New York.
CHAPTER 27
Deacon
FROM THE GROUND UP
What the fuck did you expect, Deacon?
You disappeared for four months, came back unannounced, and didn’t think there would be repercussions?
Carys had Sharon here babysitting. She was out. Sharon didn’t divulge where Carys was, but I put two and two together.
Fuck. I felt nauseous.
Originally, I was going to call her, give her some warning. But I decided it would be better to just jump into the fire. There was so much I needed to say to her, but that wasn’t going to be happening tonight.
Pacing in my apartment for over an hour, I listened intently for any sign that she’d come home. When I heard her door unlatch from the hallway, and muffled conversation through the wall, I knew she’d returned.
My pulse raced as I debated whether or not to go over there. I wasn’t sure if she’d text me once she found out I’d come by earlier. Maybe it was better if I waited until morning to bombard her.
One thing was for sure: I wouldn’t be sleeping for shit tonight.
* * *
Carys never texted or called. Not that she should’ve. But I’d braced myself for a “what the fuck are you doing back?” message.
Dragging myself out of bed, I got dressed before walking to the kitchen and making some coffee. Watching the java drip down into the carafe, I could feel my stomach in knots. My heart was in my throat as I geared myself up to face her. I didn’t know where to begin, or if she’d even listen.
I sipped my coffee alone at the table, running everything through my head, but knowing none of it was going to come out the right way. When I’d had two full cups—enough to make me jittery—I forced myself up.
Adrenaline pumped through me as I walked next door.
My knock was reluctant, lighter than it used be, representative of the shame I felt for having hurt her, for having left.
The stoic look on her face when she opened told me she’d been expecting me.
Despite my nerves, my body came alive with an awareness it hadn’t felt in too damn long, because holy shit I’d nearly forgotten how beautiful she was. Only now, her eyes emanated pain and confusion instead of happiness as she looked at me. And I deserved every bit of it. I never wanted to leave her again, and knew I wouldn’t—willingly, at least; I just had no clue how to convince her of that.
We stood in silence for the longest time, staring at each other until I finally mustered the courage to say, “Hello.”
“Hi,” she whispered.
I cleared my throat. “Can I come in?”
She nodded and moved out of the way.
Now we were back to staring at each other, only from a different spot.
“You look beautiful.”
She didn’t say anything, and that was all the hint I needed to understand how difficult this exchange was going to be.
Carys wore a fitted black turtleneck. Something told me she’d selected that particular shirt—one that covered her neck as protectively as armor—for the visit she likely knew I’d pay her today.
Sunny was playing on the floor. Oh my God. Sunny. I had to do a double-take. She’d gotten so much bigger. Her blond hair had grown and was tied up in a little wispy ponytail. When she finally looked up and saw me, she made brief eye contact and looked back down at her toys, as if I were a stranger.