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“Both.” He scrapes a hand over his buzz cut—front to back. It’s what he does when he can’t find words for me. He should probably should be bald by now.
“So you’re done with Vi?” Optimism hangs from my voice by a thin thread.
“I’m done hiding our relationship. It hasn’t been fair to you or her.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Setting his cup in the sink, he retreats to the table next to his laptop, his portable comfort zone. “I didn’t know what we were doing at first, and the longer we were together, the harder it was to tell you—”
“That you were hooking up?” I tap the counter with my fingers. “That you gave up on Mom so easily?” How can he dismiss what they had in the diary? They were everything to each other. Feelings like that don’t just evaporate. “It’s your fault our family fell apart.”
“Jess—”
“Ifyouwould’ve been there for Mom...” Been the guy who called her Lizzie and climbed through her window and made her laugh. “Things could’ve been different. Instead of throwing her out, you could’ve helped her. You didn’t keep your promise to be home when you left the Marines. That’s why she kept drinking. But if you tell her you’ll be around more, forgive her for what she did to me, ask her to come home because you still love her—”
He slams the lid to his laptop. My signal to cease and desist.
But I’m not done. “She’s sober. Six months. I know you’re going to be mad, but I’ve been watching her social media. It’s not too late. You can fix this. You can—”
“Stop.” His jaw locks. “It’s not going to happen. Your mom and I aren’t good for each other and...” He runs his hand across his keyboard in slow motion while the old-fashioned clock above the pantry ticks off seconds, and the refrigerator hums in the background. “I love Vi.”
Three words that seep into my chest and shrink my heart. Words she gets that I don’t. “Why?” Why can he love her when he can’t love me? When he refuses to love Mom?
“She understands me—even the way I have to work—and she doesn’t ask me to change. She gets it, Jess. She was there for me during the divorce when I really needed someone.”
“It’s nice you have someone who cares about your life, when no one cares about mine.” I push off the barstool so hard it falls over.
“Icare about your life.” A few giant steps put him in front of me.
“You don’t even know my life.” I clench my hands. “You sleep. Hit the home gym. Occasionally eat foodIcook. Just like you wear clothes I wash. The other eighteen hours of the day, you’re in your office buried so deep in your books you don’t have a clue what’s going on.”
“That’s not true.” He and his rising outrage get right in my face.
“It’s so true that the woman you’rehooking up withis more involved in my life than you are.” And that just skims the bottom of pathetic.
He’s right in my face. “Vi—”
“Knew I kissed a guy in the hotel lobby.” I step back. “Saw the pictures as soon as they went up. Buys me the right bagels.” A heavy thud builds in my heart and spreads to my ears. “Do know what that feels like? That I have more of a relationship with my agent than I do with my... with you.”
“When I found you in bed with that boy—”
“This has nothing to do with him. And that boy has a name.” My fingers curl over my pajama pants where Gabe autographed my hip.
“His name iswake-up call”—Dad’s voice hits the ceiling—“and I got the message loud and clear the second I realized you slept with him.”
“I didn’t sleep with him. Maybe if you’d stuck around, I would’ve told you how Gabe was there for me when I freaked out at the book signing, how he listened to me about Mom, how he didn’t want anything from me—he just wantedme. But I wasn’t worth the effort. You’d rather shut down and walk away.”
Dad hits his fist on the counter so hard the sound slams through the kitchen and the bagel bag jumps. “I shut down because it’s my fault you were with him. How do you think that makesmefeel?”
“You think I used Gabe to get back at you? Why would I do that?”
“You’re looking for something I’m not giving you.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m trying to figure that out.”
That he can’t rubs like sandpaper across my heart. The things he doesn’t give me aren’t a huge mystery. Time. Attention.Love. “I won’t be holding my breath until you do.” I head toward the great room.
