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“Is that all it takes, babe? A mansion and fancy earrings? I thought you had more substance than that.”
“I’m going to hang up.”
“Wait.” There’s a genuine note of emotion in his voice, so Idon’t. Damnit, why is he calling me on Christmas? “I want to know.”
“Know what?”
“Why him?” He pauses, breathing heavily on the line. “Why’d you pick that asshole?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I barely resist the urge to correct him about Sara; he doesn’t have the right to that information, plus I don’t want him to know I caved and confronted James about it. “And he’s not an asshole, he’s my boyfriend and your teammate and you need to back the hell up.”
“You never wanted to meet my family. Go to my parents’ house. I had to drag you to dinner with them. The one time I tried to do something fucking nice for you and buy your stupid photography, you wouldn’t let me.”
I shut my eyes. “Who cares, Darryl? It was a year ago.”
“I know I fucked up when I cheated,” he says. “But I’m not letting you go.”
“You need to.”
“No.”
“Saying no won’t—”
“No,” he snaps. His voice cracks over the line like lightning. “Don’t fucking tell me no.”
I take a deep breath. I’m trembling, but it’s not like he’s actually here. He’s in Boston with his family. I’m on Long Island. We’re hours away from each other; the freakin’ Long Island Sound is between us. But his voice feels so forceful that for half a second, I have to resist the urge to look over my shoulder.
“Bexy,” he says, his voice breaking, softer now. “I miss you. I still...”
I’m quiet for a moment. “Darryl, we’re not together anymore.”
“You’re the only one I’ve ever—”
“Stop calling me,” I interrupt, terrified of whatever he’s about to say. I can’t hear those words come out of his mouth. Not now, not ever. Especially not so soon after James said it to me.
“You don’t even want to hear what I have to say?”
I hang up. He calls again immediately, and when that goes to voicemail, he just calls again. I block his number, shaking so badly I miss the button the first couple of tries. I flush the toilet, in case anyone is waiting in the hallway, and run the sink to splash some water on my face.
I look normal enough to re-join the party, I think. I tweak one of the earrings. James will be wondering where I went.
But when I exit, Richard is waiting for me.
“Bex,” he says. “How is your mother?”
“Oh, um, fine.” I stand up straighter. I haven’t been alone with Richard, and after the conversation with Darryl, I’m jumpy as hell. He doesn’t love me, but if he really thinks he does, that makes me more uncomfortable than I’d like to admit. “Thanks for asking. Should we...”
“You love my son,” Richard says.
It’s not a question. I nod.
“And you agree that he’s destined for greatness.”
I’ve never heard someone use that expression seriously. But it’s not like he’s lying, so I nod again. “He’s so talented.”
My response makes Richard relax slightly. He puts his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the wall. He came down this morning in a sweater with a fuzzy Christmas tree on it, and his outfit juxtaposed with the serious expression on his face is making me feel slightly hysterical. “I like you, Beckett. I think you have a good head on your shoulders. I admire practicality.”
“Thank you?”
