Chapter 48

 

 

 

Afton

 

 

I look down at the screen of my phone again.

I’ve been staring at the same text message since it arrived over an hour ago.

Luke:  I need to talk to you about something important. Please respond when you can.

I haven’t replied since I have no idea what to say.

“Unless you have a hidden superpower, you can’t take a cookbook worthy photo by staring at your phone’s screen.”

I stick out my tongue at my brother-in-law.

“Mature, Afton.” He shakes a finger at me. “Don’t pull that shit around the baby. Well, at least not when Nelson is looking. I don’t care if the little dude learns how to stick out his tongue at his auntie.”

I smile. “I’ll teach him all good things.”

“I hope to hell that’s not true.” He slices into a perfectly ripe red apple. “I want him to be edgy like me.”

I glance at the black trousers and white and black striped shirt he’s wearing. “You’re edgy?”

“Off to hell you go,” he says with a flick of his wrist.

I look at my phone again. “I’m already there.”

Marching around my kitchen island, he drops his gaze to the text message. “Something important could be anything. It may have nothing to do with Brooklyn.”

“Joel.”

“Afton,” he says my name in the same tone I said his. “Call him. Talk to him. It’s been two fucking days.”

Grabbing an orange from the wicker basket on my counter, I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he insists. “It’s like getting out of a hot shower in a cold room. You just do it, and it’s never quite as bad as you think it is.”

“Is that another quote from your TV role?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “That’s what I tell myself every morning when I realize I left the bathroom window open all night.”

I get to work slicing the orange. “If I call him, I have to let the dream go.”

“The dream of a life with him?”

I nod. “He loves Brooklyn’s son so much. He told me he’d do anything to spend time with him.”

“Anything and marrying someone you don’t love isn’t the same thing,” he points out.

“They might be for him.”

He skims a hand over his forehead. “I can’t predict how this is going to turn out, but I do know that for the first time in your life, you’re in love, and you can’t give up on that yet.”

I drop my attention back to the orange.

He points at my phone. “At least he’s reaching out. He didn’t ghost you.”

“No.” I bite my bottom lip. “He didn’t ghost me. He secretly met up with his ex to discuss their upcoming happy ever after when he was supposed to be at work.”

“Maybe he’ll explain all of that to you when you call him.”

“Or maybe he’ll tell me I was hearing things,” I bite out the words as if they are responsible for all the pain I’m in.

He moves to hug me from behind. “Either way, you won’t know until you text him back, so do it.”

“I will,” I assure him as I slice the knife through the orange. “As soon as I’m ready.”

 

***

 

Luke:We really need to talk. It’s important.

I read the text message that followed Luke’s attempt to call me. Obviously, I didn’t pick up.

I’m still unsure what I want to say to him and more uncertain if I want to hear what he’s going to say to me.

I’m living in a frozen state where we still have a connection.

He hasn’t told me that he’s getting back together with Brooklyn, but I know it’s coming.

I can’t avoid him forever, but I need one more day to gather my thoughts and courage so that when he breaks up with me, I can handle it with some measure of grace. I’m determined to be strong in the face of the greatest heartbreak I’ll ever experience.

I knock on the door of my parents’ penthouse. I’m not here to surprise them. My mom asked me to come over as soon as I was done work for the day.

Today, Joel and I spent the day at a bakery in the West Village that offers homemade loaves of bread and croissants.

The owner was a treat, and I told her that I’d be spreading the word around town about her upcoming business. I got a hug and a loaf of cornbread.

Joel snagged it, claiming it was his all-time favorite.

We parted at the subway since he needed to rush home to wait for a delivery.

When the door swings open, my mom is waiting with a huge smile.

I go in for the hug because I need it. “Hey, Mom.”

“Afton,” she breathes my name out in a soft sigh. “How are you?”

I offer a one-word response because I don’t want to dive into the details of my sorrow. “Fine.”

She steps back to look me over. I didn’t have a chance to plan my outfit for the day. It’s as simple as can be. Faded, ripped jeans and a white blouse. Red leather flats are on my feet because they are comfortable, and when you’re traveling around Manhattan by foot, a pair of good shoes is your best friend.

“You look beautiful,” she says softly. “You’ve always been a vision.”

I glance at the foyer table and notice that my picture hasn’t magically reappeared.

It stings.

My mom’s gaze follows mine. “I know. I need one of those wallet-size photos of you. Your father laughs every single time I pull that framed picture of you out of my purse to show people.”

I glance at her face. “What?”

“Your picture,” she says with a tap of her finger against the vacant spot on the foyer table. “I took it to Nantucket with me, and I’ve had it with me since. I don’t have a more recent photo of you, Afton. I’d like one.”

I run my hand over my top lip. “I thought you hid it when you went to Nantucket. I thought you were so ashamed of me that you couldn’t stand to look at it.”

Her eyes instantly well with tears. “No. Never, Afton. Never.”

“The lock was changed.” I jerk my thumb toward the door. “I couldn’t get in that day I came to see you. I saw that my picture was missing, so I thought.”

“Cleta lost her key, so we decided to change the lock.” She glances behind her before lowering her voice. “She was embarrassed.”

“I didn’t know.”

My mom holds her hands together in front of her. “Warren’s mother called the morning you were supposed to come to see us. She had a few choice words about you. I was livid. I told her as much. Your dad saw how upset I was, so he suggested we get out of the city. I thought he called you to explain all of this.”

“I thought you called our girl.” My father’s voice carries from behind my mom.

“No one called me,” I say in a broken voice.

“We fucked that up,” my mom says with a toss of her hands in the air.

That doubles me over in laughter. My mom has cursed before, but I’ve never heardthatword come out of her mouth.

“We fucked that up royally,” my dad adds with a wink.

“We’re just about to sit down for a cocktail.” He motions to the living room. “Come join us, Afton. We want to hear all about your day.”