His face lights up, and he pivots on his heel, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll grab the food!”
I smile after him, my chest still heavy.
Clara shifts beside me. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I can’t believe he pulled this stunt.”
“He has a big heart. And just because things aren’t working out for you and me, I still want to be there for him. For you too.”
“Please, let me explain.”
“Here it is,” Jacob announces, his small hands holding the plate of bruschetta. He walks like he’s balancing on a tightrope and sticks his tongue out in concentration. “I need to pull up a chair.”
Once he sets the plate down, he runs off again.
“Let’s just eat tonight, okay? Enjoy some wine. Revel in the view. Let’s keep it simple.”
She worries her bottom lip, and I stuff my hands in my pockets to avoid reaching out and consoling her. Touching her would not be keeping things simple.
On the contrary, touching her would complicate everything even more.
Touching her is why I want to put my fist through a wall right now as she stands there with sadness in her doe-eyes.
She shakily exhales. “Not sure a view like this is simple.”
I take in the vineyard expanding across the hills. The setting sun paints the sky with pinks and yellows, and fireflies start flickering here and there. Together, they create a romantic ambiance.
Jacob returns with a chair and sits between us as we settle in for dinner.
We keep the conversation light.
Jacob’s basketball season coming up.
Clara working at the magazine and how much she’s learning about photography and beyond.
Andrew’s loud laughs, which according to Jacob, remind him of a cartoon character—it’s why he likes him besides the fun facts he shares.
At the end of our meal, the sun has completely set. I get up, patting my stomach, then stretch my arms to my sides. “Thanks again for the invite, Architect.”
“And how do we invite him next time?” Clara asks, her eyes narrowed.
He exhales, kicking his feet under the table. “Just ask you instead of faking a medical emergency.”
I rustle his hair. “That’s enough excitement for me for one night. See you guys this week for some laser tag? Trick-or-treating for Halloween? Picking grapes?”
Jacob chuckles at my last option. “Please come trick-or-treating with us?”
“You got it.” I high-five him and glance at Clara, whose gaze bores into me like she’s trying to see through me. “Good night.”
I head down the cobblestone path the way I came in, thanking Helene and Andrew for dinner on my way out.
I open my truck door when I hear Clara call out, “Dax, wait.”
The gravel crunches under her boots as she walks up. I close my eyes and grip the door, fighting every instinct to kiss her goodbye on her temple. It’s what I’ve done for years, but we’re not the same. Not anymore.
“Can we talk? Maybe I can come over? I can see if my mom will watch Jacob for a couple hours.”
“I had fun tonight. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Well, I do.”
“I’m sorry for what happened the other night. It was a mistake and didn’t mean anything. I didn’t even realize I said it.”
My hand falls from the door to my side, twitching and trembling. “But you did. Whether you meant to or not, it was in your subconscious. Most of your brain is comprised of thoughts and emotions you’re unaware of, but it doesn’t make them any less true.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t psychoanalyze me like I’m your patient.” She frowns.
I ram my hands through my hair, laughing humorlessly under my breath at my cursed fate. Last week, I thought I had it all—finally.
Years of pining for her, for a family, were finally over.
I thought she was mine, but as it turns out, she wasn’t.
“I’m going home.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.” I glare at her. “That’s it.”
Her eyes squeeze shut, and her head hangs as I get in my truck and drive away, leaving her in my rearview mirror.
I curse the whole way home, wishing things were different.
Wishing I’d never let her go back then. I should’ve asked her to stay with me.
To be with me.
To marry me, not Mitch.
But that would’ve been selfish of me.
I pull into my driveway and slam the steering wheel repeatedly. I can’t be here. I can’t be alone in this house anymore. This cold and empty house. There’s no love in there. No laughter.
It’s not a home.
Instead of going inside, I put my truck in reverse and drive.
I know better than anyone how futile it is to wish for a different life. It’s like wishing on a falling star or throwing a coin into a fountain.
It’s the stuff of fairy tales.
This is real life. It’s often cruel and unfair, and we don’t always get what we want, no matter how long we’ve waited for them or how badly we want them.
Thirty
Clara
“I thought I’d find you here.”
Dax sits up from where he’s lying in the middle of the field. It’s dark, but as I get closer, I can see his eyes more clearly. They’re confused.
“When you weren’t at your house, this was my second thought.” I pull my coat tighter around me to fight the evening chill. “God, how many times did we come out here? Although, I don’t remember the fence being so tall. I snagged my jeans trying to climb that thing.”
I giggle in an attempt to ease the tension, but it’s no use. My chest aches. My body feels like I chugged three bottles of NyQuil.
I can’t see much with all the lights out. There’s only one light on the street corner hundreds of yards away. Part of me wishes I could see his whole face, but the other part of me is glad I can’t. I don’t want to see
