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He continued to watch the newlyweds sway, his mood getting blacker by the second, until Yvonne turned her chair so she was facing him. “Look at me.”
He cast her a sideways glance, then his gaze returned to the dance floor.
“No,” she insisted. “Look at me. Just at me.”
There was something in her voice that penetrated the black haze in his head. He shifted. “What?” he asked in a brusque, rude manner.
“Do you know why I told you to come to this wedding?”
He shook his head. In truth, he’d spent most of the night certain this was the dumbest fucking thing he’d ever done.
“I don’t think Denise invited you to rub your nose in her happiness.”
Leo didn’t believe that at all.
“Leo, you want to be a part of Vince’s life, right?”
He narrowed his eyes. He was a part of it. That chubby toddler was the best thing to ever happen to him. “Of course I do. I am.”
“There are two ways to do that—one good and one horrible.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“You and Denise didn’t work out. That’s just a fact of life. Something it’s taking you some time to come to grips with because of Vince. I mean, most of us break up with a boyfriend or girlfriend and it’s easy to move on because we cut that person out of our lives completely. We don’t see them because…why would we? Unless we’re a masochist.”
Leo felt the first upturn of his lips all night. Yvonne had a very logical, very funny way of explaining things sometimes. “So you’re saying I’m a masochist?”
“I’m saying you don’t have the option to stop seeing Denise. Every time you pick up Vince or drop him off, it’s like you’re pulling the scab off a wound and it starts bleeding again.”
That was exactly how the past two years had felt. He didn’t respond, but he nodded to let her know he was still listening.
“I think Denise hopes that by showing you it’s possible to move on…maybe you’ll try.”
He crossed his arms, wanting to reject that idea, even though he wasn’t an idiot or some heartsick fool who couldn’t let go. It had become pretty clear to him in the past few months that lately it wasn’t his broken heart that was causing all this resentment he felt toward Denise, it was his wounded pride. She’d said no to him and yes to Ryder. That chafed. Bad.
“Do you love Vince?”
He scowled. “You know I do.”
“And you want to be a part of his life?”
“Why do you keep asking that like it’s a question? I am a part of his life. I’m his dad. Not fucking Ryder Hagen.”
“There.” She put up her finger. “That right there. You can’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
Yvonne reached out and took his hand in hers. “It’s not. Not really. Ryder is now Vince’s stepdad. He’s going to grow up with you…and with Ryder in his life. You say you love your son, so now you have to prove it.”
Leo frowned, feeling like he’d been showing his love ever since the day his son was born. “Prove it how?”
“You have to love Vince more than you hate Denise and Ryder.”
“I don’t hate—” He stopped. The way he was looking at the happy couple right now, the way he’d been acting like a bear with a thorn in his paw ever since getting the wedding invitation, the cold way he’d treated Ryder every time he came along with Denise to pick up Vince, certainly gave that impression.
“You don’t?” she asked.
He grimaced, and she smirked.
