Bittersweet (2 page)

“I
can’t believe you invented a game and set up your own company. I’m pretty
impressed.”

“We’re
actually having a get-together on Saturday night for everyone who worked on it to
celebrate the launch. Maybe—”

When
his eyes slanted over to the door to the café and he cut off whatever he was
saying, Zoe turned automatically to see what had diverted him.

When
she saw the young man who entered, she realized it must be Adam’s cousin.

He
was the best-looking guy she’d ever seen in real life.

As
he approached, she did a quick assessment of her appearance. She wore a
cashmere twin-set and pencil skirt that she thought were flattering. She wasn’t
as tall as she’d like, so she always wore high heels to compensate, and her
shoes today were new.

She
smoothed down her fair hair—even though it was ruler-straight and had never
shown the slightest tendency to wave or curl in her life.

Deciding
she looked as good as she could for the moment, she turned to be introduced to
Adam’s gorgeous cousin.

Adam
was obviously not interested in her romantically—having not made any sort of
move in two months—but that didn’t mean his cousin wouldn’t be.

He
grinned as he approached their table, his smile absolutely breathtaking.

“Well,
hello,” he said, his hazel eyes resting on her face with obvious interest. “I’m
Josh.”

Present
day

The grating
sound of a ring tone woke Zoe from a tense, restless sleep.

She
fumbled blindly on the coffee table, where she was sure she’d left her phone. Her
head hurt, however, and she wasn’t yet fully awake, so it took about eight
rings until she found it.

“Hello,”
she mumbled, when she finally laid her hands on it.

“Zoe?
Are you all right?”

“Yeah.
Hey, Mom. Sorry. I’d fallen asleep.” Zoe forced herself to sit up from where
she was stretched out on the couch. Her whole body ached, and she could still
barely pry her eyes open. “What time is it?”

“It’s
already three. Are you sure you’re all right?” Her mother’s voice was gentle,
which was an obvious sign of how concerned she was.

Zoe
hated feeling like people were pitying her—even someone she loved and trusted as
much as her mother. So her tone was a little terse when she replied, “Yes, I
already said I’m all right. I just need to wake up so I can feed Logan and get
dressed before they come pick me up.”

“Sorry
if I’m nagging. I just wish I could help. I don’t know how you’ve made it
through this horrible, wretched year.”

Zoe
didn’t know how she’d made it through this year either. “I know. But now I just
have to make it through the funeral. And then maybe…” She trailed off, having
no idea what was left to hope for after she buried her husband.

“Maybe
what?”

Swallowing
hard, Zoe finished, “Maybe I can breathe again.”

There
was silence on the other end of the phone. A silence Zoe recognized as her mom trying
not to cry. The knowledge made Zoe’s eyes burn too, and a lump lodged hard in
her throat.

But
she’d cried so much and so often over the last eight months that she had no
real tears remaining. She sat on the couch in sloppy sweats and a t-shirt and
tried to take a full breath.

“Do
you want me to come over now?” her mother asked at last.

“No.
I’ve got to rush as it is. I’ll just see you at the church.” Zoe forced herself
to stand up, although her stiff back protested the move. “Thanks, though.”

When
she’d hung up, Zoe made her way into the bedroom.

The
bedroom and the bathroom were the only individual rooms in the spacious loft
apartment. She and Josh had bought the place almost three years ago, as a
one-year anniversary present to themselves, after the Light Switch game had
really taken off and they could afford it. They both had fallen in love with
the historic hardwood floors, the exposed brick and ductwork, and the huge
expanse of windows looking out onto the skyline.

They’d
been thinking about selling it and buying a bigger place outside the city when Josh
had been diagnosed with a malignant tumor in his brain. For the eight months of
surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy that followed, moving was the last thing
on Zoe’s mind.

The
bedroom was big and airy, and in the corner was a crib.

She
heard Logan whimpering and was glad she wouldn’t have to wake him up in order
to nurse him. He was six months old now. Taking care of an infant at the same
time she watched her husband slowly die had almost broken Zoe.

She
loved Logan so much, though. Josh had loved him too.

Logan
stared up at her now with wide brown eyes in a chubby face. He twisted in an
ornery way when she just stood and looked at him. Then he started to scream.

A
perfectly reasonable thing to do when you were hungry.

Zoe
picked him up and carried him to the rocker to nurse him, trying not to
remember the look on her husband’s face last week, the last time he had been
conscious, when Logan had babbled syllables that sounded very much like “Dada.”

Logan
was suckling greedily, dribbling a little breast milk as he did, and Zoe
stroked his fine dark hair and tried not to fall back to sleep.

She
hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since Logan was born.

When
he’d finished, she burped him and laid him back in the crib, turning on the
musical mobile of animals so he could watch it. He was giggling happily over
the mobile as she jumped into the shower.

Long
showers were something she hadn’t enjoyed since Logan was born either, so three
minutes later she was done. She blew her hair just halfway dry and then pulled
it back into knot at the nape her neck. Until recently, it had always been
smooth and shiny, falling nearly to her waist, but now it looked dull and
lifeless. She added a little makeup, although her face was so pale and the dark
smudges beneath her chocolate brown eyes were so deep there wasn’t much she
could do to improve her appearance.

She’d
lost too much weight over the past several months, and the navy blue suit she
put on—which had been stylish and fit her perfectly when she’d bought it two
years ago—was now too loose around the hips and waist and looked rather drab.

It
didn’t matter, though. There wasn’t anyone she wanted to impress. She just
wanted to get through this day without collapsing in exhaustion.

She
was changing Logan’s diaper when her phone rang again.

“Mrs.
Peterson?” a man said when she picked up. The doorman to the building.

“Yes.”

“The
car is here.”

She
thanked him and hurriedly dressed Logan in a little gray suit. Then she put him
in his carrier, grabbed the bag she’d already packed with all his stuff, and
rushed downstairs.

A
black luxury sedan from a car service waited at the curb. As she hauled her
baby carrier and bag across the sidewalk, a man got out of the backseat.

Adam
Peterson was as polished and handsome as the car he emerged from on the gray afternoon.
No trace of the adorably geeky guy she’d eaten lunches with five years ago.

Without
comment or greeting, he reached over to take Logan’s carrier and the bag as she
climbed into the plush seat. Then he helped her attach the carrier into place.

“Do
you need anything?” Adam asked as the car pulled into the street. His voice and
his eyes were almost cool.

Zoe
shook her head. “Thanks for picking me up. You didn’t have to.”

He
slanted her a quick impatient look, as if she’d said something foolish, but he
didn’t say anything.

Zoe
didn’t say anything either.

She’d
thought he liked her well enough back then, but the friendship obviously wasn’t
lasting. Their temporary camaraderie at the café had gradually faded into
distant civility as he started acting like a “real” Peterson. He’d become a
corporate honcho, propelling the one little trivia game into a franchise
empire, with hundreds of game versions for computers, gaming consoles, mobile
aps, and social media platforms—plus merchandise in endless forms.

She
assumed he’d just outgrown his friendliness toward her, the way he’d outgrown
his camp shirts. It might also have had something to do with the lingering tension
between Josh and Adam, which had heightened and lessened at different times
during the years.

Either
way, she hadn’t let it bother her. Her life had always been filled with so much
more.

Four
years ago, Zoe had married Josh Peterson.

And
now she had to bury him.

 ***

Her first date
with Josh had been a disaster.

He’d
taken her to a loud, trendy restaurant and had been abrasively arrogant, in
what she later discovered was an attempt to impress her. He’d spent the whole
time bragging about how brilliant the design of Light Switch was and how Adam
would have just been a nerd with an idea without him.

Shortly
into dinner, she’d been stewing and vowing never to go out with the asshole
again. At the end of the date, after one smug comment too many, she’d let Josh
have it, berating him with a litany of his obnoxious ways as they stood on the
sidewalk outside her apartment.

He
hadn’t appreciated her criticism and had given as good as he’d gotten—calling
her self-righteous, inhibited, and boring.

The
argument had become heated, and it had ended in the hottest, wildest sex she’d
ever had. 

*
* *

Zoe jerked when
she felt an elbow nudge her.

She’d
lost track of the funeral service—the voices blurring into a dull roar in her
ears. She hadn’t been asleep, but she’d completely zoned out, thinking about that
first evening with Josh and all the evenings that followed it.

She
gave Adam an annoyed look, since he was the one who had elbowed her. They were
both sitting on the front pew of the beautiful historical sanctuary of an
Episcopal church, and she really hoped the service was almost over.

Adam
gave a discreet nod toward the front of the sanctuary, and Zoe realized she’d
been about to miss the eulogy by Josh’s best friend, Michael Murray.

When
Josh had wanted to start a software company three years ago—separate from the Light
Switch empire—he’d partnered with Michael. He and Adam had been on the outs
that year, and Josh had been trying to get some distance from his cousin.

Michael
was almost in tears as he spoke, but Zoe sat in stiff, tense composure. The
funeral was well-attended, since Josh had a lot of friends and the Petersons
had a long history and deep connections in the city.

Zoe
appreciated Michael’s words and his obvious affection for her husband, but she
couldn’t take much more of this.

Logan
was asleep in the baby carrier beside her, and she had to fight not to pick him
up, hug him to her chest, and take comfort in his warm, little body. Adam was
like a cool automaton beside her—his well-chiseled face calm, his graceful
hands relaxed, without even the smallest flicker of emotion.

Josh
had never had so many layers. If he was happy, he showed it. If he was angry,
he showed it. If he had something to say, he just said it.

But,
to Zoe, it seemed like all of Adam’s feelings, all of who he’d been back in the
café, was hidden, reined in, held back beneath the “real Peterson” shell.

Zoe
wondered if Adam grieved for Josh at all. She was sure the guy who’d teased her
with trivia questions five years ago would have grieved, but that guy appeared
to have completely vanished.

*
* *

Adam was beside
her again at the graveside, as they laid her husband’s body in the ground, and
he was beside her once more at the reception that followed.

She
didn’t really like him the way she had before, but there was something
strangely reassuring about his silent, solid presence beside her.

The
reception was at the Murrays’ house, since Zoe wasn’t up to having it at hers.
Friends trickled in and out to share their love and support, and she tried to
look alert and appreciative.

But
mostly she wanted to curl up in a ball and hide.

Adam
had left her side, for the first time all day, as Zoe stood with Jane and Dan,
a couple who had been friends with her and Josh since before their marriage.
They were playing with Logan—trying to get him to giggle and clap his hands. Zoe
smiled at his glee, but she was starting to feel very unsteady. She was shaking
slightly for no reason, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

“Zoe,”
Adam said, returning from wherever he’d gone and taking her by the arm, “you
should sit down.”

“I
don’t need to—” she began, annoyed by his presumption and pulling her arm away.
But she was suddenly hit by a wave of dizziness so intense she thought she
would pass out. She swayed, catching onto Adam’s jacket as he slipped an arm
around her.