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“Sit down, Jack,” Jeannie orders softly. “I’m willing to bet Harper would very much like to spend time with you.”
“I’m, I’m m-making her uncomfortable.”
“Not at all,” I say.
Jack eyes me through the violent jerk of his head. “Since when did…you become a bullshitter?”
“I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. I’m fine, I swear.” I prepared myself for this by watching a couple of hours of clinical videos as I waited for my flight here. Though no matter how hard I prepped, a part of me dies inside with every tremor that costs him an ounce of pride. He was frail when I met him, but now he’s sickly-looking, pale and appears older. The more distinguished version of him is mirrored in his son, who sits brooding at the table and hardly spares me a glance. I’m fighting every emotion imaginable. The hurt from his response to me being here, the hardest to battle. I didn’t expect open arms, but I didn’t expect a hostile reception either. It’s at the table where I realize the truth of what’s going on.
Troy told me things were hard at home, and I knew as much with Lance’s refusal to talk about it in New York, but I wasn’t really hearing it. And the only thing I’ve really heard in the last six weeks is the irregular sound of my heart.
But I’m beginning to realize my reception wasn’t entirely about us.
Lance wasn’t lashing out at me as much as he is the life he’s been living. His bitterness doesn’t just stem from the hurt I caused, it’s his situation. And instead of coming in with understanding, what did I do? I humiliated him. All I want to do is run. Grab my bag and walk out the door so I don’t have to face the tragedy of this family, but I don’t, and I won’t because the man I love can’t.
And with his playing indifferent, I can feel him slipping away with every second that ticks by. It becomes painfully clear to me that in order to prove I’m ready to commit, I need to do the one thing I’ve failed to do with Lance when things got hard—stay.
Jack slowly takes his seat, as Trevor turns to me with sympathetic conversation. “So, how’s the dancing going?”
“G-good. The show I was in did great. We got asked to perform in Calgary.”
“Really. How did that go?”
I dump more green beans on my full plate. “I don’t know. They should be on right about now. I’ll have to call and ask them.”
I can feel Lance’s eyes shift to me the minute the words pass my lips.
“You missed it to come here?” Trevor asks before glancing at Lance and then back to me.
I nod at my plate, too afraid to meet the grey eyes that haunt my every waking minute.
“It was no big sacrifice,” I say. “But I saw pictures of the venue, and it looked amazing.”
“Who danced for you?” Jeannie asks.
“No one, they just cut my number.”
The loud clank of a fork sounds to my right before Jack explodes out of his seat. Jeannie immediately stands and looks at me. “This is not your fault.” She follows him out of the dining room. “Jack,” she whispers, “she’s fine.”
“She doesn’t need to see. It upsets her,” is all I hear before a bedroom door slams.
“I’m sorry,” I say to everyone at the table. “I didn’t mean to upset him.”
Trevor chimes in. “No, I’m sorry. My brother’s an asshole, and Dad’s just having a day. It’s okay, I promise.”
I nod, tears threatening.
“Are you just going to sit there?” Tony says to Lance, though I don’t look up, I can feel his gaze still on me. Forcing myself to take a bite, I look up to meet the livid eyes of my ex-boyfriend. He’s so damned beautiful, dressed in nothing but black sweats and a hoodie, his eyes blazing, and jaw set in a hard line.
“Dance first. You promised me. We agreed.”
I swallow. “No, you decided for me,” I say, popping some of my dinner roll into my mouth, “like every other boneheaded man, you think you know what’s best for me. Besides, it was a bonus show. It doesn’t count.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s not what you asked of me.”
