Stay With Me (12 page)

12

I finished wrapping Mag’s present. I’d opted for a two-night romantic getaway in a place of her choice. It was a safe gift since I knew how much she and Carl loved to travel. I wanted to give them a week in some tropical place, but my finances were a bit tight, and that was all I could afford. It was important to me to give her nice presents to thank her for everything she did for my little girl and me. She was a constant presence: my rock, the woman who had stepped into my mother’s stead.

Without her, I would have never gotten over the trauma of the accident. It was Mag who’d convinced me to seek therapy. She tried to get me to have fun, to take me out even when I didn’t want to do anything other than sleep and feel sorry for myself. Thanks to Mag, I’d returned to living. I owed her a lot. Perhaps everything.

For an entire year after the accident, she’d never abandoned me. Even though she also had to take care of Josy and Ash, she was always by my side.

“Mommy, I made Mag a card!” Olly said, handing me a piece of pink paper with a drawing of a red heart on it, which looked like a work by Picasso.

“It’s beautiful, love.” I smiled at her and clipped it to the present. “Aunt Mag will love it.”

“Why can’t
I
come too?”

“We’re going on Sunday with Aunt Mag to the park. Tonight is just for adults. Understand?”

“Yes! Is
Andew
gonna be theh too, Mommy?”

“I think so.”

I wasn’t certain. We hadn’t seen each other since Monday. He’d sent me a text letting me know he was in Seattle for work and that he couldn’t stay with Olivia until Thursday, but that he wanted to take her out.

“Tomorrow evening he’s taking you for ice cream in the park.”

“If you marry him, he’ll become my daddy!
Why
don’t you mawwy him, Mommy?”

My heart landed in my throat. What could I say? Not the truth. First I needed to talk to him, and then the three of us would make the right decisions.

“Sweetie . . .” I couldn’t find the right words. “Andrew loves you very much. Even if we don’t get married, he’ll always be there for you.”

“Weally?”
she asked hopefully.

“Of course, sweetie.”

We arrived in front Mag’s house in Sunset at seven forty. Lucas had talked the whole car ride, telling me fun anecdotes about what happened in his kitchen.

I thanked God that I worked alone in my pastry kitchen and didn’t have any type of interference. Had I been in his shoes, I would have thrown bowls and whips at my kitchen help.

He parked his car, and like a perfect gentleman, opened my door. A truly gallant gesture that rendered him even more adorable in my eyes.

He offered me his hand and helped me get out. “This is where you grew up?” he asked before stepping onto the sidewalk.

“Yes.” I pointed to the white two-story house next door. “That was our house.”

“Did you sell it?” he asked.

I nodded. “It was too large and full of too many beautiful memories that were very painful for me. I sold it and moved downtown, where I rented a small studio.”

“I understand. And do you regret it?”

“No, not at all. I used the money to live off of and start my business, and set up a trust fund for Olivia. I thought since she only had me . . .”

“She wouldn’t be left without a backup plan. I’m truly charmed by your personality. You faced something so major when you were just a girl and all on your own.”

“I wasn’t alone. There was Mag, Carl, and Josy,” I tried to explain as he extended his hand to caress my face.

“No one should have a burden like that. You’ve been exceptional with Olivia. You’re raising an amazing daughter. Don’t give others the credit that only belongs to you.”

We looked into each other’s eyes for an instant, before his lips rested on top of mine. Sweet and light, but there too, the contact was quick. He moved away, and leaned his forehead against mine.

“Tonight I’m going to kiss you, Zoe.”

I smiled. He was so different from Andrew. He tiptoed around everything, whereas Andrew, from the beginning, came into my life like an army tank, never stopping for any reason, not even my feelings.

“Shall we go in?” I asked without letting go of his hand.

“Let’s go.”

Everyone was in the backyard near the barbecue. I stopped on the threshold of the sliding door to observe the scene: Carl at the grill, Josy cutting the tomatoes, Mag talking to Ashley, and Andrew over to the side talking on his cell phone.

Lucas stood behind me and rested his hands on my hips. “Everything alright?”

“Yes,” I lied.

What I was looking at wasn’t right; it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Carl should have been next to my father and Paul. Josy and my mother would have joked about how little help Mag was, and I would have snagged some pieces of sausages.

Instead they weren’t here . . .

“Guys!”

Mag motioned for us to join them. I saw Andrew out of the corner of my eye and he tensed. I pretended he wasn’t there and sat down next to Lucas.

It was surreal. Everything was out of place—I was sitting next to Lucas, who wouldn’t miss a chance to come into contact with my body. Andrew and Ashley were in front of us, and he was shooting me dirty looks. She wouldn’t stop blathering about their wedding. It was continuous—she wanted the ivory tablecloths, not cream-colored ones, the cake was supposed to have six tiers, and then the invitations . . .

She rambled for twenty minutes about them, infuriated because the printer had used the wrong type of paper, which, according to her, was too smooth and not shiny enough. And to prove it, she produced two samples, which looked identical.

In the midst of all of this, Andrew didn’t say a word. He was there, but not entirely.

If I hadn’t known better, I would think he was jealous.

And I, like he, remained composed, quietly playing with my food, dissecting a spare rib as though it were part of a biology lesson. But the situation had caused my stomach to shrink. I thought I would be able to do this, to fly in Andrew’s face and show him that I too could look ahead and leave our relationship behind, confidently looking toward Zoe 2.

Instead I was lying to myself, trying in every way possible to hide the truth.

Because, however fantastic Lucas might be, he wasn’t Andrew.

However attentive he might be, he wasn’t Andrew.

How long could I continue to lie?

The whole thing unnerved me because if I couldn’t succeed in opening my heart to another man, I would wind up being alone for the rest of my life, while Andrew would make a beautiful family for himself with Ashley.

An image of the two of them happily married with a child flashed into my head, causing a shooting pain in my heart. I grabbed a bottle of Budweiser and took a big swig.

“We should buy a house here, don’t you think, Andrew?” Ashley asked with a radiant smile, and my ears perked up. “At least we’d have the right amount of privacy when we come to visit Mom.”

He nodded.

“Darling, but you can stay here every time you come!” Josy said.

“I know, Mom, but for us it’d be better to have a place all our own. As soon as we get married, you won’t want to share the house with us.” Then she turned to look at me with the same look that boxers have before delivering the knockout punch. “I saw your house was put on the market again,” she stated with nonchalance. “It could be perfect for my darling and me.” She caressed his face.

Andrew looked into my eyes while Lucas rested his hand on my leg, as though to calm me down.

Instead I wanted to get up and break everything.

“Ash, stop it,” her mother rebuked.

“Why? What’s the problem? She sold the house years ago.”

“Ashley!” Mag said. “This isn’t the time.”

I succeeded at not saying anything.

“Oh, come on, it’s just a house, and it’s perfect for us. Would it be a problem for you, Zoe?”

It was the first time since our argument in the café that she and I were talking directly. I took the napkin and wiped the corners of my mouth, and felt everyone’s eyes on me.

“Ashley, if I really told you that it would be a problem for me, would you change your mind?” I asked.

“I, unlike you, take people’s feelings to heart,” she answered, straightening on the bench.

An almost hysterical laugh came out of my throat. “God, do you really believe the things that come out of your mouth?”

“What are you saying?” she asked.

“You know . . .” I shook my head and pointed my index finger at her. “Do you really want me to tell you what I think in front of your
splendid
fiancé?”

I saw her pupils dilate. She was surprised by the hardly veiled threat. I wasn’t going to put up with her meanness for one more second. She shouldn’t have dared to wound me by using my parents. I wasn’t going to allow her that. No one said a word. They looked at us, awaiting a response from Ash, but it didn’t arrive. She lowered her eyes to her plate and ate her grilled eggplant.

A half hour after the argument, everything seemed to have calmed down. Carl was talking about basketball with Lucas, Ashley was busy talking to her mother and Mag, while Andrew had stepped away to make another phone call. I used the opportunity to go to the bathroom to put some space between myself and all of them.

Once I walked into the bathroom, I put my hands under ice-cold water and freshened up my neck and face, not giving a damn about my makeup.

I felt exhausted. The dinner was proving to be more difficult than I’d predicted, and I was starting to feel limp. As the door behind me opened, then abruptly closed, I took a deep breath. I didn’t even need to look to see who it was. I could sense his presence anywhere.

“What do you want, Andrew?” I asked flatly.

“Why did you bring him here?”

It was truly incredible. After everything that had happened, he wanted to know more about Lucas.

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Yes, you are,” he exclaimed, but his ways no longer intimidated me.

“You’re absurd. You come here and expect things from me that don’t exist!” I exploded to the point of exhaustion. “What do you
want
from me, Andrew?”

He looked at me for a second before throwing me to the wall and attacking my lips. But that time, I didn’t let him win. He couldn’t keep playing with me and my feelings. I wasn’t a rag doll he could use at his whim.

I was fed up with his mood swings.

I was tired of always feeling so fragile in front of him.

I was sick of always ceding him something.

I pushed him away, and before realizing what was happening, my hand collided with his face. For the second time since he’d come back into my life, I slapped him.

“You have to stop it. You can’t touch me anymore!” I told him, wiggling out of his grip. “How can you keep doing this to me?” I said, ignoring how red his cheek was getting. “I’ll never be able to stay far away from you.” I punched his chest with fury.

“Hit me, slap me . . . do anything you want, but don’t ever stop touching me,” he implored as our gazes locked. “I might die if you never touched me again.”

His words stopped me. I didn’t understand him. No part of what he was saying made any sense.

“You left me here for four years. You let yourself be touched by other women—”

“Zoe . . .”

“You allowed others to have me—” I saw his face contorting with the pain.

“I beg you, don’t say that . . .”

“What am I not supposed to say? That others have wanted what you refused?” I spat. They were lies. There hadn’t been multiple others. Just one, but Andrew had to pay for the hurt he was making me feel. “Or that since you left, other men have enjoyed . . . my company?”

His hands squeezed my arms, causing me to walk backward toward the door.

“Be quiet,” he growled. “Don’t talk.”

“Let go of me!”

“No, I can’t do it.”

“You’re ridiculous. All of this is ridiculous. Let go of me!”

“You don’t understand!”