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“Yeah. Things are rough at home with his dad. If you want honesty, he’s a fucking wreck. But it’s fuel for a guy like him. He’ll come out of it fighting.”
“Are you going to see him in Vegas?”
“Yeah. I’ll be ringside. You should join me.”
“I wish I could.”
“Where will you be?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t have any commitments past this show.”
“I know someone who could use you.” He winces. “That came out wrong.”
“I could use him too,” I say, taking a gulp of my martini as a tear escapes down my cheek.
“It’s not my business.” He sips his beer, picking up my napkin and dotting my face before I have a chance to wipe it away. “But you know what? I do want to know. It was so damned obvious you two were happy together.”
“We were. So happy. Did he tell you he was here?”
“Yeah. That’s why I brought him up; otherwise, I would give you the ex-respect.”
I sip my martini and nod.
“We’ve been talking a lot lately.” He chuckles. “He probably couldn’t get in touch with Dave.”
I smile, even with fresh tears burning in my eyes.
“I don’t get it, Harper. I really don’t. Though he’s not much for words, I gathered you weren’t interested in long term with him?”
“That’s not true at all.”
I just made him believe it because it was easier. Though none of it was easy, agony is a better word.
“So, are you going to tell me why?”
“I just have my reasons.”
He reads my posture, and his back goes ramrod straight. Accusatory eyes roll over me. “No fucking way, Harper. You never told him?”
“No, I left, there wasn’t any point.”
“You promised me you would. You need to come clean.”
“I can’t. He’s got enough on his plate now, and then, it was a hell of a lot worse. I just couldn’t,” I bat away a few tears, my defenses crumbling. I feel like an idiot sitting at a bar crying, but all the ache has made me useless, and the fear that I’m too late, that he really did close the door, is crippling. Troy looks around the bar as a muffled sob escapes me. He pulls me to him as I cry openly, unable to hold it in, cursing my emotions and their freaking impeccable timing. Troy holds me close, never wavering in the strength of it, his voice steady. I know then he’s probably an outstanding husband and father.
“It’s okay, Harper, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m s-s-so embarrassed.” I look around to see the bartender’s eyes dart away.
“Jesus, don’t be.”
I pull away sniffing as two more drinks are delivered.
“From a fan at that cocktail table.”
Troy nods. “Thank him for us, but please do me a favor and grant us some privacy. Keep them at bay?”
The bartender glances at me, and I drop my gaze. “Sure, man.”
