She stood up and gave Sam a hug. “That was a lot closer to being friends than we’ve been in a long time,” she said. “And…the ring is pretty. I hope Marcy likes it.”
“Thanks, Tessa.”
As he opened the door to leave, she called after him. “Hey, Sam? One more thing.”
He turned around. “Sure. What’s that?”
“After you’re engaged, you have to ask Marcy for advice. Not me.”
He laughed. “Maybe I just wanted your blessing. And…your forgiveness.”
Well, all right then. “See you around.”
The group of tourists was still standing against the building, waiting patiently. Tessa put on a smile and got them their bread with some extra goodies thrown in for making them wait. By the time she saw them out, it was ten thirty. She had two more hours to go before their usual Saturday closing time.
She wandered back over to the door. No, she didn’t think so. Not today. Then, before any more customers showed up, she flipped the sign to CLOSED.
…
That night, Leo hit Tessa’s number for the hundredth time that day. “Hello?” said a too-sugary voice that Leo immediately knew was not Tessa.
“Juliet? Can I please talk with Tessa?” He was yelling over some loud sound in the background. A lawnmower? No, it was a clattering. Like clack-clack-clack. Followed by the squeal of brakes. What in the world?
“I’m sorry, Leo.” Juliet spoke in a low voice. He heard a door shut, like she was moving away somewhere to talk privately. “Tessa doesn’t want to talk with you. She feels like it would just be more rejection. And she deserves better, frankly. And she’s asked that you please stop calling every five minutes.”
“Please put her on the phone,” he said. “Please,” he added. Make that begged. He wasn’t past doing that.
There was a long pause. “I can’t. She’s…taking a nap.”
Leo paced the now-dark house. “At least tell me where you three are. I’ve looked everywhere—your apartment, your mom’s house, the bakery.” Leo did some deep breathing. Juliet was a wall, and she wouldn’t hesitate to protect Tessa at all costs.
Juliet dropped her voice to a whisper, like maybe she didn’t want Tessa to hear what she was about to say. “Maybe she needs a break from you.” There was a long pause, where he heard someone in the background on a loudspeaker say, This is the Brown Line to the Loop. “Because you did the same exact thing to her that Sam did.”
His anger flared, hot and desperate. “I’m not Sam,” he found himself saying for the second time in twenty-four hours. “I kept a secret because your mother—”
“I’m not talking about keeping a secret, Leo,” she snapped. “Although that was awful, too.”
“Look, if you’d just let me—”
“I’ve got to go. The message from her is to please stop calling.”
“Juliet, throw me a bone, okay? Just tell me where—”
The line went dead.
Leo sat on the purple couch and put his head in his hands.
For a second, part of him expected Cosette to hop up and start nuzzling against him.
But of course there was no Cosette in sight. And no Tessa.
What had Juliet been talking about, comparing him to Sam?
How could anyone compare him to that idiot? Sam cheated. Snuck around. Sam didn’t care…
Sam. Didn’t. Care.
Isn’t that exactly what Leo had implied when he’d told Tessa it was a good thing they weren’t serious? That what they’d had was just for fun? That she was replaceable?
Callous things to say. And yes, big fat lies.
Because every single ache he felt clear through his bones told him that nothing was light about this relationship. Nothing was funny.
Because he hurt everywhere.
Tessa deserved someone who thought she was a queen. A goddess. An amazing woman. Kind and beautiful and talented.
Because she was all those things and more.
She deserved better than a man who told her that what they had didn’t mean anything.
It had meant everything.
He missed her laughter. The flour on her cheek. How she always kissed her cat on the head. The wonderful way her hair smelled.
Leo hadn’t told Tessa the truth. Because he had never told anybody that truth.
Like everything else he’d ever done, Leo had taken his mom’s challenge to the max. He’d let it permeate every aspect of his life.
Don’t be sad. Be upbeat, be friendly, and make people laugh.
And don’t get too attached.
But that hadn’t helped him to avoid this pain.
No, he definitely wasn’t laughing now. Because it hurt like hell.
…
A rap on the door later that evening startled Leo, who’d fallen asleep on the couch. Between the sudden flicking on of lights and blinking from the sudden brightness, the shadowed figure of his sister came into view. She invaded his space, making him sit up, and waved a tinfoil-covered plate under his nose. “From Dad,” she said. “Everybody’s worried about you.”
“No need. I’m fine.”
Gia, seemingly unconvinced, walked past him, flicking on more lights as she went, inspecting his house. And what was suddenly illuminated was not looking great. Dishes were heaped up in the kitchen. A day-old pizza box and a few meals’ worth of dirty dishes graced the countertop. Clothes and shoes were scattered on the furniture and floor. Empty beer bottles peppered the island.
That might explain his splitting headache.
Gia turned to him, a concerned look on her face. “Who are you, and where did you hide my neatnik brother?”
“What time is it?” He moved the couch pillows around, searching for his phone.
“Ten p.m. There’s lasagna in there.” She nodded to the plate. “It’s still warm if you want to eat it.”
“Okay, thanks,” he managed. But he’d rather eat sawdust.
“I’ll put it in the fridge.” Gia was frowning and not making eye contact. If his head wasn’t hurting so badly, he would want to hear her launch in with her usual exuberance on details about the thousands of activities she was involved in, and how some things sucked but others didn’t. But she wasn’t saying much of anything.
“Dad told me everything was fake,” she said in a deadpan voice that froze his heart cold. “Like, you lied. To all of us.”