She shakes her head. “You’re the first to know.”
“What? Why?” Our family has always been close, so this makes no sense at all.
She removes her sunglasses and swipes at her teary eyes. “Embarrassed. I thought I could make it work. Everyone saw us as the couple that would be together forever and I wanted to prove them right, but Ansel had other ideas.”
“What do you mean?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“He said he wasn’t happy. Thought I spent too much time taking care of Joseph, helping you, never giving him attention . . . so he found it some other way.”
“That son of a bitch,” I say, my jaw clenched so tight I might crack a molar. “He fucking cheated on you?”
She shrugs as if it’s nothing, but I can see right through her glassy eyes. This is more than nothing. This is devastating. Ansel was her middle school sweetheart, the man she told me after her eighth-grade dance she was going to marry one day. They went to college together, spent every waking moment together. They were the couple to strive to be. She put everything into their marriage, and I remember thinking, I’m going to do the same one day.
What the fuck?
“I wasn’t enough,” she says, stirring her drink.
“Bullshit,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “You are enough, Nat. You are more than enough.”
She shakes her head. “Not for him.”
“Fuck him.” I set my drink down, the glass ready to break in my hand if I hold on to it anymore. “He’s going to fucking regret this.” I crack my neck to the side, steam breathing into me.
Natalie presses her hand to my forearm. “Don’t hurt him, Jase.”
I laugh. “Yeah, okay, Nat.”
“I’m serious. He’s not worth it.”
“He sure as shit isn’t worth it. But you are. No one, and I mean no one, hurts my sister and gets away with it. Do you understand that? No one.”
“I know. But Ansel is pissed that I filed for divorce, and I’m asking for the apartment and took away his season tickets you gave him. If you attack him, I’m sure he’ll press charges.”
“Damn right you took away his season tickets. He’s fucking high if he thinks he’s keeping those.” Needing to pace, I stand in front of Natalie and walk back and forth. “Is that why you made these last-minute plans for us? To get away?”
She nods. “I thought we both needed it. I had to legitimately move your initial dates because of the photo shoot—which went so well, don’t you think?—but I needed to get away too.” She shrugs. “I wanted this time with you.” Fuck. I hate that this dipshit treated my sister like this. And I hate the sadness and . . . resignation in her expression. But then she lowers her glasses and looks me in the eyes. “Jason, why didn't you go after her?”
I shake my head. “This isn’t about me. We’re talking about Ansel and your divorce apparently. I need time to wrap my head around this.”
“No, you want a distraction and you’re using me as one. How about we fix one problem at a time, one that can actually be solved. Last I spoke with you, you were going to Dottie’s office to ask her to stay. What happened?”
Fuming from Natalie’s news and her persistence of changing the subject, I stuff my hand through my hair and pull on the short strands. “I don’t know, okay? I got there, her betrayal hit me again hard, and I froze.”
“And you let her leave?”
“Yeah. I handed her shit from my apartment and left.”
“Jason . . . that’s awful.”
I whip toward her. “That’s awful? What about everything she did to me? What about—?”
“You told me you love her. You said you want to be happy. You were going to go make up, so every excuse you’re about to lay down is invalid, because you were moments away from making your life better again.”
Exhausted, I flop on the lounge chair and drape my arm over my eyes. “It’s just . . . fuck, Nat, it’s scary, okay? I’ve never had feelings for someone like this. I let her into my heart, into my world, and she hurt me.”
“She didn’t tell you the full truth. But everyone, even her friends, know what you two had was real. Just seeing you together, I knew there was something special, and then seeing her at the event, after everything went down . . . I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more remorseful, love-struck person in my life, Jason. And I can assure you, I know what a look without remorse looks like.” At that, she stumbles, and I want to punch Ansel in the face so hard. “Dottie loves you, and she’s hurting because she hurt you. If she was truly malicious, she wouldn’t care. But she does, she cares so much. It’s obvious in her actions, her attempts to win you back, her ability to look at herself, find truth and honesty within her and tell the people around her about her mistakes. That’s the kind of woman you want to be with, as that’s the kind of woman who will always care for you.”
“Then why didn’t she take care of my heart in the first place?”
Natalie shrugs. “Maybe that’s a question you need to ask her? But from the outside and what you’ve told me, I will tell you right now, Mama G was right in what she said, you’re a fool.”
Shit . . .
“How can you say that, be so positive about love when you’re going through what you’re going through?”
She fixes her sunglasses over her eyes and sips from her drink. “I’m heavily medicated.”
“Seriously?”
She lightly chuckles. “No. But just because my love life is bleak, that doesn’t mean I should project my problems onto you. I know when I see love, and you two were made to love each other.”
“And if she hurts me again?”
“Then you talk it through. It’s when she stops wanting to talk that you need to worry.” She pauses, takes a sip of her cocktail. “Trust me.”
Five days in the Bahamas with my sister should have been relaxing, but it was anything but.
Not only did the resort staff keep calling us Mr. and Mrs. Orson and sending champagne to our two-bedroom suite—awkward—but every second of my vacation was spent worrying over Dottie and whether or not I should fly straight to California from the Bahamas.
If you’re wondering . . . I didn’t.
So when I showed up at Knox’s door, looking for a chat and he told me to get lost, I knew I fucked up.
I don’t blame the dismissal.
I told him I loved her. I told him I wanted to be happy, not right, but when it came down to it, I chickened out.
That was until last night.
Last night, when I was lying in my bed alone, staring at the ceiling, I replayed my entire relationship with Dottie.
I thought about how I wish I’d known her in college and wondered about the feelings she had for me back then. Were they purely physical, or was there more substance to those feelings?
I thought about our first date, how she looked so strong and confident, but there were little moments where I caught wariness in her eyes, nervousness, almost disbelief that I’d brought dinner to her for no other reason than to honor a promise. Now, knowing how she’d been treated before—dishonestly—I understand why she had me dragged out by security. I hadn’t earned her trust. I saw something in her and as I thought about it, I knew it was interest, maybe infatuation. I knew there was more to this woman and I was determined to find out what it was.