Stay With Me (7 page)

He stared at me. There was something strange in his eyes. The same thing I’d seen in the restaurant, but then it had been a flash. “Christ, Zoe, I have a three-and-a-half-year-old daughter.”

He rubbed his face with his hands.

I took a few steps in his direction, but he stopped me.

“Don’t come any closer.”

In a flash of rage he punched the wall. I jumped back, but he didn’t flinch. He just remained there with his fist closed and his arm extended along his body.

“I have a daughter,” he repeated, more to himself than to me.

“No, Andrew,
I
have a daughter. Olivia is mine. You have no obligations toward us. And if you’re afraid Ashley will find out the truth, you don’t need to worry. I won’t say anything. It’s not my intention to ruin your life.”

“What the fuck do you think you’ve done by hiding this from me?”

“The right thing!” I yelled, my hands shaking. But I was lying. Not telling him had been wrong. I knew it.

I’d always known it.

“You’re truly a miserable woman . . .”

“Don’t you dare!” I pointed my finger threateningly at him. “Don’t you dare!”

“Ash is right! You are—”

I didn’t allow him to finish. Instead, I slapped him with full force. My eyes were burning. Tears of rage were straining to come out. And his words weighed on my aching heart.

Andrew looked at me, enraged, as he massaged his red cheek. “You’re crazy.”

“You’re right. I’m crazy! I admit it. But I came here to talk. To admit my mistakes. Then you stand there and judge me? Who do you think you are? Fucking me for a year doesn’t give you any right over me or my daughter.”

“She’s mine too!”

“Tell me,
Drew
—if I’d told you that morning about my pregnancy, what would you have done?”

“I don’t know! You didn’t give me the chance to find out . . . and don’t call me that.” His voice was low and deep.

“
Drew
,” I insisted. “Isn’t that what your
fiancée
calls you?”

“You are not her,” he spat, striking at the heart of the truth.

I lowered my head, swallowing the bitter taste. “I’m aware I’m not her.” I sighed, exhausted. We were wasting time. “Listen. Arguing and accusing one another serves no purpose. Now you know the truth. As you know, I don’t want anything from you.” I looked in his eyes. “Take the time you need and do what’s best for you, just as I’ve done what’s best for my daughter and me.” I stepped closer, my expression grave. “Only know that if you decide to be a part of Olly’s life, I won’t allow you to break her heart. The way you did with mine.”

In deafening silence, I headed toward the door and stopped right before pushing the handle down. “My phone number is still the same. If you want to talk about Olivia, call me. Otherwise . . . I wish you the best.”

I got home and paid Jenny, then checked to see if Olly was sleeping and that my getting home hadn’t awakened her.

She was there, in her bed with her hands underneath her chin. Her tiny mouth was relaxed and her lips half closed.

She resembled him so much.

I slowly shut the door and returned to the living room.

I sat down on the couch, processing what had just happened. I didn’t understand my state of mind. I was unsettled, sad, anxious. And relieved. A destabilizing mix, but I tried to focus on the one positive thing: I felt
relieved
. I’d managed to free myself of that burden. Telling Andrew had made me feel better, and I was grateful for that, but at the same time, finding myself in front of the man I’d loved and yearned for in my most secret dreams was breaking my heart. And his words pierced my soul: “You are not her.” Of course not! He was about to marry her, and I’d never been anything to him.

I undid my ponytail and massaged my scalp to maybe create some order in my head.

After this evening, I was certain of one thing: I still loved him the way I did four years ago.

7

Sunday morning had finally arrived, and not just any Sunday morning, but one that kicked off my two-week vacation. Just like the previous year, I’d decided to close Café for You for a month: the first two weeks of July and the first two weeks of January.

I was going to use the occasion to rest. Fortunately, Olly’s preschool never closed except for ten days in August. There was also the possibility of sending her to summer camp, and I could always count on Jenny.

I poured a cup of coffee and looked out the window. It was only eight o’clock. Olly was sleeping and the city was about to wake up under a blue sky and a hot sun. I’d be able to take her to Golden Gate Park, her favorite. The day allowed for any activity.

I took a sip of coffee and opened the window to let in some air.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment of peace, but Andrew’s angry face suddenly appeared in my mind.

Andrew.

Almost five days had gone by, and I hadn’t seen or heard from him. In my heart, I’d hoped he would get in touch to get to know Olly—that having seen her, if only one time, would make him understand how special she was. But I couldn’t expect anything. I’d had a good seven months to get used to the idea of becoming a parent. He didn’t even get a second.

As I was midthought, someone rang the bell to the back door, and I quickly ran downstairs to the ground level, hoping Olly hadn’t heard the noise. I opened the door and was astonished to find Andrew. He was wearing a pair of black jogging pants, a white T-shirt with “Yale” written across it, and a pair of Nikes. It was strange to see him so sporty, but what shocked me most was his expression. His eyes were tired and his stubble unkempt. I found him dramatically irresistible.

“Zoe.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, immediately regretting the useless question.

“You know.” He was right, I knew.

“Olivia is sleeping.” I invited him in, indicating the stairs that led to the top floor. “Go up quietly.”

He entered without saying anything, and I could have gotten drunk on the smell that belonged only to him.

I followed him in silence, while he stood in the middle of the living room. He looked around. The living room wasn’t large, but it was welcoming. The colors were similar to his suite, I noticed just then. Maybe I’d subconsciously re-created a place that meant something to me. A paradox, but the nights with him were magnificent. Even if in the end I left in pieces, I carried many moments spent there in my heart.

He didn’t say anything. He probably didn’t even notice.

“What time does she wake up?”

“On Sundays, normally at nine thirty.”

“Fine.”

“Do you want some coffee?”

“Yes . . . thanks.” He seemed hesitant.

“Wait for me on the terrace so that we won’t disturb her.”

He nodded and went past the sliding glass door. I caught up with him shortly after with two cups of coffee and a plate of butter cookies with shredded chocolate and coconut on top. I placed the tray on the wicker table.

“Thanks,” he mumbled as he looked over what I’d brought.

“I’m sorry for slapping you.” I watched the motion of the dark liquid inside my cup.

“I didn’t think you were that strong,” he said, half smiling.

“You don’t know a lot of things about me, Andrew.”

“Indeed.” He sighed. “When was she born?”

“October 10, 2010.”

“Three tens.”

“Olly’s special. She’s an extraordinary child,” I said proudly.

“I’d like to get to know her.”

Boom!

With those words, my heart skipped a beat. “Are you sure?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Yes,” he said, leaning back in the chair. “I haven’t thought of anything else these past few days. You owe it to me.”

“You’re right. But we have to take things slow.” I kept my voice low.

“For the moment,” he added.

“Does Ashley know?”

“No, and for now I’m not going to tell her,” he said, looking into my eyes.

“You’re about to get married. Sooner or later, you’ll have to—”

He stopped me. “I will, but first I want to be the one to get to know
my daughter
.” He grabbed a cookie. “These are delicious. Did you make them?”

I found it absurd we were talking so calmly with one another just a few days after we’d had such a heated argument. Maybe this meant we would be able to meet each other halfway for Olivia. I would have done anything to give her the chance to have a father by her side.

Even if it meant being stabbed in the heart every time Andrew and I saw each other.

“Yes, I made them.”

“They’re my favorite,” he said, taking another one.

“They’re Olivia’s favorite too.”

I saw his eyes light up. “She’s a lot like me,” he remarked, getting lost in thought. He was probably remembering their first encounter.

“You have no idea.”

“I haven’t forgiven you, Zoe.” He froze me with those five words. “It’ll be difficult to forget what you’ve denied me, but now all I want is to know Olivia. That requires me to be as nice as possible to you, but if I could, I’d avoid it.”

“Andrew, I neither want nor have to justify myself to you. If you don’t understand the reason for my behavior, I can’t do anything about it. But don’t worry, you’ve made your point. The only thing that matters is Olly’s well-being. I don’t care if you hate me.”

“I didn’t say I hate you. I could never hate you. But I’m very angry. Actually, furious would be more accurate.”

I was about to offer a rebuttal when Olivia’s little voice interrupted our conversation.

“Mommy?”

We both turned toward her. She rubbed her little eyes as she looked at us.

“Are you up already, love?” I asked her, completely altering the inflection in my voice.

She nodded, then looked at Andrew. “Hi.” Her little voice sounded sleepy.

“Hi, Olivia,” Andrew replied, looking at her with an expression that I’d never seen on him before.

“We’ve already seen each other. Down at Mommy’s. You didn’t
tawk
.”

I had to hold myself back from bursting into laughter. Olivia had an incredible memory, besides having quite proficient speech for three-and-a-half years old. I often called her “my little radio.”

“I was just tired the other day.”

She looked at him and tilted her head. “Are you a friend of my mommy’s?”

“Yes,” he admitted with difficulty. “But if you like I can be your friend too.”

“I need to ask my mommy.” She turned toward me. “Can he?”

“Of course, Olly.”

She smiled and clapped as she did every time something roused her enthusiasm.

“Yay, I
have
a new, new friend.”

Andrew burst out laughing and I stole a glance at him. He was truly handsome. How could I, in spite of everything, not be captivated by him? After everything he’d said and done to me, I should have banished him from my heart. And yet his name and his face were always present. They had been so even when he was on the other side of the country.

I was so close to him that I could have stretched my hand out to—

“Mommy, hungry,” Olivia interrupted my insane imaginings.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, got up, and had her sit in my chair. “Eat the cookies and I’ll get you some milk. Afterward we’ll go to Golden Gate Park.”

“Yes, yes, Mommy!” she squealed.

I went into the kitchen and left Andrew alone with Olivia. I took the milk from the refrigerator, poured it into Olly’s favorite cup, and warmed it for a few seconds in the microwave. Those few moments were enough for the memories to invade my thoughts once more like an avalanche.

“What are you doing?”

Andrew’s voice reached my ears, velvety and hot. His skin smelled like shower gel. He put his large hands on my hips and started rubbing against me, making me hot very quickly.

“C-cookies,” I stammered. “I need to go visit a friend.”

“Mmm . . .” He rubbed his nose in my hair. “You smell good.” He grabbed my butt and pushed me against the kitchen shelves.

“Andrew, it’s two o’clock. You said that—”

“Right, the meeting,” he murmured, pushing his body closer to mine. “I need to go, but our conversation is only being postponed, baby.”

He left a trail of kisses on my neck, then left me to miss him and his warmth.

“Are you going to call?” I asked, already knowing his answer.

“As always,” he said as he reached the door. “Zoe?”

I turned toward him. “Yes?”

“Add more chocolate.”

“Why?”

“It’s my favorite.” He winked and left.

I smiled to myself. “Coconut chocolate cookies it is.”

I went back to them, but stopped for a few seconds to observe the scene: Olly spoke with excitement while Andrew looked at her with a rapt expression, his elbow resting on the table, and his hand holding up his chin.

In that moment I felt guilty.

My decision not to tell Andrew had kept them from enjoying many moments like these. I’d deprived Olivia of growing up with her father by her side.

I shook my head and brought my daughter her milk, driving the thoughts away. It was useless to start feeling guilty. I would try to make things work out between them now.

“Here, love.”

“Tank you, Mommy.” I smiled at her. She still had some problems pronouncing certain letters and phonemes.

“Mommy, can
Andew
come with us?”

“I . . .” I turned to look at him. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Of course,” he said, revealing a marvelous smile. “I would love to.”

We’d arrived at the park, and Andrew and I walked quietly side by side while the little one skipped in front of us and gathered flowers from the edge of the trail. She looked so happy and carefree, in stark contrast with my own state of mind.

A thousand different sensations crept under my skin, some ugly, many beautiful.

It was the first time Andrew and I were out together . . . in public. That side of our relationship had been notably missing four years ago, and I’d always regretted it, even now, after everything had ended between us.

I felt nostalgic for us, for what we used to have, and for what I had wanted from him. How silly of me to get lost in those painful thoughts.

I opened my mouth to break the suffocating silence. I had no idea why, among all the things I could have said, I asked him about the one thing I was least interested in: “So where’s Ashley? What did you tell her to be here this morning?”

Andrew gave me a cold look, put his hands in his pockets, and shrugged. “She’s out of town for a photo shoot.”

I didn’t ask anything else about her out of fear I would ramble, and the last thing I wanted to hear was him defending her.
The way I’d always wished he’d do for me.

“In any event, Andrew, you can take that look off your face. I know you’ve got it out for me, but I don’t care. You asked if you could get to know Olly, so at least try to smile for her,” I said softly so Olly didn’t hear anything.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I will. That young girl over there”—I pointed to Olivia—“she’s my daughter, and she’s led a happy and carefree life up until this morning. I won’t allow anyone to spoil even one moment of her life. Not even you.”

“I am not ‘no one!’ I’m her father!” he growled.

“Unfortunately, I can’t forget that.” My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes with a look that seemed capable of killing me. But I decided to pull the trigger. “But I have other options to consider.”

“Are you threatening me?”

I shrugged. “Take it however you like.”

“You need to listen to me,” he whispered.

“Of course, how could I not?”

“Zoe, quit using that tone,” he rebuked. “And I insist you listen to me. This was the last thing I expected from you. I would never have believed you could do this to me, after everything that happened between
us
.”

I looked at him, shocked and at the peak of my exasperation. He’d pronounced “us” as though there’d actually been something more than what he’d left behind. I hadn’t forgotten our last morning together. The memories were still vivid: his cruel words, his desire to have a final farewell fuck . . .

What else did he expect from me?

“It was only sex between us,” I said. “You repeated that constantly four years ago, right up until the end. Are you sure you’re not having memory problems?”

“Fuck you, Zoe.”

I glanced at Olly, fearing she might have heard, but she was bent down looking at a pink flower up close, not paying attention to us.

I grabbed Andrew’s elbow until he turned toward me. “Hey.”

His expression, worn with grief, didn’t flatter him in the least. I’d never seen his face like that and it pained my heart.

How absurd, and yet I couldn’t understand his mood swings: one moment he was behaving like an asshole, the next, he was tortured and defeated.