“Just curious. I know they’re a retired doctor and nurse, but you never really mention them, and you don’t have family photos in your house. Do you get your height from your dad, your looks from your mom?”
I frowned harder still. “I don’t know. I don’t think about it.”
Dex rolled his eyes and motioned for me to join him at a lonebench near the water’s edge. I stared at the moon’s glittery reflection and tried to think of a topic change.
Too late.
“They’ve been married a long time, right?”
“Forty-three years.”
He crossed his arms and whistled. “You’re lucky. They must love each other.”
I snorted. “I don’t know about that. I think they’re…used to one another. Like an old chair you’ve had for years. You sort of like it, you sort of don’t. But you know you’ll never get rid of it. That’s not the same as being in love.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Anyone can tell. They’re too sharp, a little cutting, a little cruel. Raising kids and having careers was hard on them. Sometimes I think they stayed together because they thought they had to. Kids always know, and they suffer for it. My house was…pretty cold. I can be cold. I would hate to do that to a child.”
“That’s why you don’t want kids?”
“Maybe. I think…I think love is important. It makes a house feel safe when life gets hard.”
Dex covered my hand and laced our fingers. We sat in silence, holding hands, lost in our own thoughts.
“You’re not cold. In fact, you might be the warmest person I’ve ever met.”
“It’s all the fritters I eat,” I joked.
He punched my biceps playfully and rested his head on my shoulder. “Shut up and take a compliment.”
“Hmph. Thank you.”
“I never had a dad. Not a real one. Mine was a hero figure who turned out to be a dud. Lots of kids grow up with single parents, but my father floated in and out—like a ghost. I would have done anything to get him to stay. When I had my concussion—the bad one—the nurse kept saying, ‘It’s okay, honey. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.’ I had no idea what she was talking about. Apparently, I’d been chanting his name like a fucking prayer.”
I squeezed Dex’s hand. “He’s an asshole.”
“Yeah. I was embarrassed for sure. Even more embarrassed that I kept checking the door, hoping he’d waltz in. Never did. He didn’t come visit, didn’t come to my wedding, didn’t call after my divorce…just gave up on me. Forgot about me. I should hate him for it, but I’ve learned not to give away rent-free space in my head. What I want is to do better, be better. When you asked me months ago why I wanted this, I guess that’s it. I want a different ending. A happier one.”
“You’ll have one.”
“What about you?”
I frowned. “What about me?”
He sighed. “How will we do this? Us. Will you come visit every day? Every other day? Will we meet at Log Cabin for pancakes and laugh at the messy baby in the highchair? Or meet at the park and take turns pushing him or her on the swing?”
My throat went dry. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
“I just hope you know I want you in my life.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I kissed the top of his head and closed my eyes. God, I wanted that and so much more.
Too much. I wanted a fairy tale that didn’t exist. I wanted a world where no one was lost or forgotten, where children grew up in happy homes, and lovers lived happily ever after. It was a fantasy. A dream. I was too old for dreams.
It left me with a selfish, sick feeling that Dex’s gain was my loss. And that as happy as I was for him, I was sad for what could never be.
CHAPTER 32
