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“Well,” began Sabrina, “I think we did awesome, considering we’ve never thrown a baby shower before.”
I shrugged. “Of course it was a success. We’re good at what we do.”
A glint of pride glowed in her eyes. “This is true.” She paused, nudging me with her elbow. “Just think, we could be throwing a baby shower for you sometime next year.”
That was my hope.
As I drove home, I reflected on how—for the first time in a long while—I had true confidence that my personal goals would be met in the near future. I’dthoughtI’d been so hopeful with Grayden, but I realized now it wasn’t quite the case.
Back then, in truth, I’d simply wanted so desperately for it all to work out that I’d firmly told myself it would. I’d ignored my doubts, ignored my reservations, ignored the voice in my head that warned he still had feelings for Felicity.
And that was my fuckup.
I had no such reservations when it came to Dax or what lay ahead for us, despite that we didn’t have a conventional marriage. There was no part of me that watched him warily or worried he’d toss aside the promises he made to me. I didn’t feel at all insecure with him—he gave no room for that to happen; reassured me both through words and actions that I had no need to be.
On arriving at the villa, I strolled through the hallway, peeking into rooms as I went by, finding no sign of Dax. I was just about to call his name when I noticed him through one of the kitchen’s floor-to-ceiling windows—he was sitting on one of the comfy loungers near the pool. No, straddling it, his back stiff. And he was fully clothed.
I slid open the patio door and stepped outside. “Hey, what you doing out here?”
Sipping whiskey, he looked at me. And I stopped dead. His expression was sober and shuttered, and his eyes were two wells of sheer weariness.
Goosebumps swept up my arms. “What’s happened?”
A long sigh slid out of him. “Nothing,” he replied, sounding both tired and distracted. “It’s just been one of those days.” He went back to staring at the rippling pool water.
“Dax, don’t blow me off,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “We don’t do that to each other, remember?”
No response.
I crossed to the lounger beside his and perched my butt on the edge of it. He didn’t even glance my way, just stared straight ahead of him, his gaze unfocused. Even though all I could see was his profile, I didn’t miss how utterly drained he seemed. Not physically drained, but emotionally.
Leaning forward to rest my lower arms on my thighs, I flicked a look at his half-empty tumbler. “What’s got you sitting out here drinking whiskey?” Still nothing. “Okay, we don’t have to talk. I’ll just sit and stare at you until you feel creeped out. I might even throw in some heavy breathing or hum eerie tunes just to bump up the ick factor.”
His head very slowly swung my way, and he gifted me with a half-hearted droll look. “I meant it when I said nothing has happened.”
“You also said it’s ‘been one of those days,’ which means it was—at the very least—relatively shitty. Tell me about it. Offload it all.” I felt my brow pucker. “Everyone’s okay, right?”
“Yes.” Sighing again, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s the anniversary of my maternal grandmother’s birthday, so I spent most of it with my mom. This day is always hard for her.”
I felt my jaw drop and my gut twist. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Because I knew you were throwing Marleigh’s baby shower.” He lowered his hand to his lap. “You might have arranged the party, but you were just as much a guest as anyone else. You were looking forward to it. I wasn’t going to spoil that for you.”
“That’s not how this works, Dax. I get to be there for you—”
“You would have delayed telling me if things were the other way around.” He gave me a pointed look. “Don’t say you wouldn’t have—that would be a lie.”
I snapped my mouth shut, annoyed I couldn’t disagree. “If you’d told me last week, when I mentioned that I’d settled on this date for the baby shower, I could have rearranged it.”
“For what purpose? There’s nothing you could have done. And you had already dished out invitations by that point.”
I went to argue … but then stopped. Because a dispute wasn’t what he needed from me right now. Softening my voice, I asked, “How’s your mom?”
“Not good. She and my grandmother had a complicated relationship, but they loved each other.”
I slanted my head. “What about you? How are you doing?”
He only made a noncommittal sound.
