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“No, he didn’t. But, it’s not his fault,” I whisper and I hang up without saying goodbye.
I know better than anyone that we aren’t masters of our hearts. They want what they want. Knowing does nothing to ease the sharp sting of my heart tearing at the seams because his couldn’t find anything in me to love. But I know it tore at him, too. He wanted a child he could love, too.
“I’m so sorry,” Dina says softly.
“Thank you.”
“I can stay.”
I shake my head. That is the last thing I want. “No, I’ll be home in a few days, you go ahead.”
We don’t speak on the way to the airport. We hug at the curb and then, I climb back into the Uber.
As soon as I’m alone, I start dialing another number and then put my phone down abruptly when I realize I’m calling Carter. He’s all I want right now. But…I can’t. Instead I text Nadia, and ask her to tell him. I know he doesn’t think of Drew Wolfe as his father, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is. That thought is like grease on the wheels on my grief and a wave of anguish, one hundred feet high rolls over me. Tears I’ve been holding in my heart since the first time I realized my father didn’t love me pour out of my eyes and I don’t try to hold them back. I need to get this out of my system so I can focus on what is coming next.
56
Carter
Making sure
“Are you sure this is a good idea? You didn’t have to bring me.”
I glance down at Porsha and smile through the knot of tension in my gut. “No, I’m glad you’re here. If you hadn’t come, I’d be dealing with Penn all by myself.”
“I don’t think she likes me.” She whispers and glances over her shoulder to where Jack and Penn are in line.
“No, she’s just wary of everyone.”
“Yeah, okay. And are you sure Beth won’t mind that I’m here”
“I’m not sure she’ll even notice.” She called Nadia with the news that her father died. When I heard, I felt as much grief I would feel for any distant relation who died. But when Penn asked if I wanted to go the funeral, I didn’t hesitate to say yes.
Not for him. I came for Beth and… Phil. I just want to make sure she’s okay. As we get close to the front of the line, she finally comes into view.
She’s not crying, but her grief is palpable. Her eyes are bloodshot, bleak, and unfocused. She’s pale, and the black suit she’s wearing looks too big for her.
Phil is on the right of her. He’s dressed in all black in a suit that’s definitely not off the rack, and his hair looks like he just stepped out of a salon. But he’s wearing the same shell-shocked expression Beth is. He’s stoic, barely acknowledging the people who are shaking his hand. On her left is a woman whose face is covered by a black veil. She’s sobbing loudly and clutching a handkerchief to her mouth. Duke is conspicuously absent.
When it’s our turn, I shake the sobbing lady’s hand first. She clutches my hand and tilts her head upward so her face is turned toward mine. I can’t see her face clearly through the veil, but I smile awkwardly. “Sorry for your loss,” I say, and she nods and starts to cry again.
I step in front of Beth, and she puts her hand out automatically.
“Thank you for coming,” she says numbly without looking up.
I take her hand and squeeze it. “Beth, I’m so sorry,” I say, and her head snaps up. Her eyes widen with surprise and then fill with tears.
“Carter,” she mouths my name and squeezes my hand. ”What are you doing here?”.
I cup her cheek and wipe the tear that trails down it. “I’m here for you.”
Porsha nudges me, and I look at her. She nods at my hand with a tight smile on her face.
I drop my hand and Beth clutches hers together in her lap.
“I’m sorry about your dad, Beth,” Porsha says.
“Thank you for coming.” Beth extends a hand, and Porsha’s eyes soften and a small smile lifts the left corner of her mouth. “It’s nice of you to say that.”
