“That is true,” Damon replied, staring off into the distance as if caught up in the memory. “And she was a phenomenal kisser.”
I winked at Charlotte and she stuck her tongue out at me.
“I don’t know what is more far-fetched … the thought of Ma at a high school formal or Dad chaperoning one,” Vanni said, and we all started laughing.
Well, everyone except Whitney, who’d plastered a polite smile on her face and was watching us all like we were strangers.
Once the meal was over, we all cleared our plates and went about helping put the leftovers in containers and clean up as best we could. Once it was mostly done, Ma kicked us out of the kitchen, and rather than meet the others in the den, I pulled Whitney into the guest room.
“Is everything okay?” I asked her once we were alone.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I guess I just got in my head there a little bit. Your family brought up some emotions and questions I wasn’t ready for.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“I don’t think now’s really the time to talk about it.”
“Well, you kind of shut down there after talking with Charlotte and I’d like to know why. Why now, of all times, during dinner with my family, did you decide to lock yourself away and put this distance between us? You barely even spoke during the meal.”
“I know and I said I was sorry. It wasn’t something I did on purpose, it was simply a reaction to the things Charlotte said and the expectations your family seem to have about our relationship.”
“What expectations? They only talked about normal stuff people talk about when discussing a couple and the possible future of that couple,” I said, a little defensively.
“Like I said, this isn’t the time to talk about it.”
“Okay, do you want to leave? We can swing by your place, sit down and have a conversation,” I suggested, even though I knew my ma would be upset if we left before dessert.
Whitney shook her head.
“You know what? I think things have gotten a little too real for me and I need to take a step back to think things through. Reevaluate a little.”
“Take a step back? You mean break up?” I asked, shocked.
I mean, how did we get from her coming to meet my family to this?
“Not break up, just a pause. Let’s put a pause on the relationship so I can figure out what I want moving forward. It’ll be good for both of us.”
“I don’t see how it’ll be good for me when it’s not what I want,” I argued.
“Luca, please, give me this. I promise I’ll work my stuff out and we’ll be better for it in the end. Just give me a little time.”
“Fine. Okay. Are you going to stay for dessert or are you leaving now?” I asked, biting back my anger and disappointment.
I didn’t want to say something I wouldn’t be able to take back, even though I was baffled and hurt by this turn of events.
“I think it’s best if I slip out now,” Whitney said sadly. “I’ll call you, okay?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and nodded.
“Okay. I’ll go say my goodbyes to your family and see myself out.”
I knew I was acting like a petulant child, but I stayed there, quiet, with my arms folded, and watched her walk out.
This woman … the first of whom I’d brought to my family as an adult, who I was falling in love with, had just shown me a side of her I didn’t know existed and I wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Although it looked like I didn’t have much of a say … our relationship was on pause.
Thirty-Three
Whitney
I drove like I was in a fog.
It was kind of like having an out-of-body experience. I wasn’t sure what the exact trigger was, or why I’d suddenly shut down like that.
Right after my divorce that had happened a lot.
I’d be driving down the highway and not even realize there were tears running down my face until they slipped off my chin.
Or I’d find myself unable to get out of bed and stay in it, in my pajamas, for the entire day.
These things didn’t happen all the time, I had my children to take care of, but it seemed like depression would hit when I least expected it.
Therapy had helped with all of that, and I hadn’t felt as freaked out as I had today in over a year. Maybe it was because things with Luca had progressed much further than I’d ever expected, and the fact that we were already to the meet the parents’ stage of the relationship had doubt festering beneath the surface and I hadn’t been aware of it until everything seemed to hit all at once.
Figuring my reaction today could only mean one thing, I bypassed the exit to my house and continued on to Marcus’s.
I often put off having to talk to him unless it was absolutely necessary for the kids. But today made me realize something my therapist had been trying to drill into me for months.
Marcus and I had never really talked about what happened.
It came up in the divorce, and we talked around it, but we’d both done a pretty stellar job of avoiding having an actual conversation about the demise of our marriage.
It’s time I got some closure.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I parked my car, got out, and marched up to the front door of his and Crystal’s house.
With a deep breath, I steeled myself, then raised my hand and knocked.
A few seconds later, Marcus opened the door in a tank top and shorts. He was sweaty and out of breathe, and I figured he’d been on the treadmill.
Marcus had always been serious about fitness.
“Whitney,” he said, his surprise obvious. “Is everything okay? I’m supposed to have the kids until tonight. They are at the store with Crystal right now.”
“I’m not here about the kids,” I said with a wave of my hand. “We need to talk. Can I come in?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Marcus said, stepping to the side and gesturing for me to enter. “I’m going to grab some water. Do you want anything?”
“No, I’m good, thanks.”
I followed him through the house and into the kitchen. While he crossed to the fridge, I moved to the small table they had by the bay window and took a seat.
When he was about to sit across from me, I looked up at him and asked, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you leave me? Leave us? Why did you cheat?”
Marcus’s eyes widened as he paused mid-sit.
“We’re going to need something stronger than water for this conversation.”
A couple minutes later, he was back with two glasses and a bottle of bourbon. He poured us each two fingers and took his seat.
“So?” I prodded when he didn’t say anything.
“Why are you asking this now?”
“It’s well overdue, don’t you think? I mean, I know you hate conflict, and I was always super careful to avoid it so as not to upset you, but those days are over, and we need to have this discussion. I need it.”
“Okay.” Marcus cleared his throat, like he did when he was uncomfortable, and said, “Well, you know things in our marriage had gotten stagnant in those last few years. We were running on autopilot, like we were stuck in this rut and we didn’t know how to get out.”