He hasn’t once mentioned Liam, which should make me angry on his behalf. But it just makes me sad. Part of me has always wondered if Liam might be missing something without his father in his life. But then I think about his birthday parties and how Finn has never missed one of them. I remember the way Finn knelt next to Liam in the field that day, showing him how to hold a bat. I remember that Finn was going to teach Liam how to grill burgers until I cancelled our dinner plans. I try to picture Paul in Finn’s place and I can’t. I can’t picture it because Paul has never once been there for Liam. Judging by tonight’s conversation, Liam isn’t missing anything by not knowing Paul.
When the meal finally ends and the check is brought out, Paul graciously hands the server his card before I can reach for my purse. He gives me a smile as though he feels proud of this act of generosity. Has he always been this pompous and I didn’t notice before? No, I don’t think so. I think I knew him before he got caught up in the trappings of his family’s prestige and wealth. He’d been a different man then. I don’t know the one sitting here with me now.
“Thank you for dinner,” I say, forcing a smile I don’t feel.
Paul nods. “Thank you for the company. It was nice to catch up.”
I don’t respond to that. We hadn’t caught up at all. He’d invited me here to clear his own guilty conscious. Whatever issues he’s dealing with, he clearly thought that he needed some kind of atonement for his past misdeeds. He could have done all this with a phone call, but he’d clearly felt that he needed to see me for himself. I take a breath, coming to a decision.
“Paul, whatever you’re going through, you’re going to be fine. You always are. I don’t know what you hoped to achieve tonight, but I hope you found whatever you were looking for. Please don’t contact me again. I’ve moved on and I have a good life now. I really do hope you can do the same.”
Paul doesn’t say anything as I stand and push my chair back under the table. I give him a small smile and a wave. Then I turn and walk from the restaurant with my head held high.
Chapter Thirty
Finn
Hannah: I can meet you for dinner tomorrow at 7. Not in Oak Hill.
Paul: Great! Francesca’s in Littleton okay?
Hannah: That’s fine.
Paul: See you tomorrow.
I keep seeing the words as they’d appeared on the laptop screen. I imagine Hannah typing them out on her phone from the kitchen while I was in the living room with Liam. I think back to her telling me we would have to reschedule our cheeseburger night. That she’d forgotten about a monthly book club meeting and couldn’t back out at the last minute. I’d known better, but I hadn’t tried to dig deeper. I let her lie to me. I’d even offered to stay with Liam, but she said she already had Margo lined up to come watch him. It all would have seemed normal if I hadn’t already seen the chat on the laptop screen. Neither of us knew that the texts from her phone were being mirrored to her laptop. I’m still not certain she knows. I didn’t mention what I saw.
Paul. Hannah’s ex-husband. She’s having dinner with her ex-husband. Liam’s father. And she’d lied to me. I feel a sharp stab of pain at the thought. We’d agreed to be honest with one another and she’d lied to me. I left this morning after breakfast with the excuse that I had things to do at my house. Hannah hadn’t tried to stop me. By 6 o’clock, I’m sick of my own company so I head to Mack’s. I know the place will be packed and noisy on a Saturday and that’s exactly what I need. Distraction.
When I arrive, I give the hostess a smile and a wave and head for the bar. Wyatt is working one half of the massive horseshoe-shaped structure while another bartender works the other half. I head for Wyatt’s side and sit. He waves at me as he hands off a tray of beers to one of the servers. After a few minutes, he heads over.
“Hey, Finn. What’s up?”
“Just came for a beer. Maybe some dinner.”
Wyatt looks at me like I’ve suddenly started speaking a foreign language. He glances around behind me. “Where’s Hannah?”
“Can I get a beer?”
Wyatt’s eyes narrow at my sharp tone, but he nods before reaching into the ice well and pulling up a bottle for me. He pops the top and sets it down in front of me. I take a long pull off the bottle and set it down. Wyatt is still looking at me, a question in his eyes.
“Hannah?” he asks again. “Did you two have a fight?”
I sigh. “She said she had book club.”
Wyatt looks at me, confused. “So?”
I meet his gaze. “She doesn’t have book club.”
I tell him about the messages I saw. “I wasn’t snooping, Wyatt. I’m not like that. I trust her.” I sigh and pick up my beer. “Or I did.”
Wyatt looks over to the other bartender. “Audrey, I need to take off. You good until Brian gets here?”
The young brunette nods. “Sure thing.”
Turning back to me, he says, “Be right back.”
He walks into the kitchen. While he’s gone, I finish my beer and reach
