I knew from our online interactions that Peter worked with kids who had special needs, but I hadn’t realized until our conversation got going tonight that some of his students had Down syndrome. What were the chances? That left us with no lack of things to talk about during dinner. I picked his brain throughout our meal—so much so that I almost felt sorry for the guy.
“If you ever want to come visit the classroom and see some of the things we do, I’d be happy to be your tour guide,” he said. “Actually, even better, I can take you down to the integrated preschool. That’s not my classroom, but you could take a look at some of the ways Sunny might be learning when she eventually starts school.”
“You know what? I may just take you up on that. The preschool years aren’t too far away, and I should start thinking about my options.”
I was starting to think I might have met this guy just to light a fire under my ass in terms of planning for Sunny’s education.
“If you don’t mind my asking…” Peter suddenly said. “You mentioned this was only your second date with someone you met online. I assume you haven’t been in a relationship since Sunny was born?”
I wished he hadn’t asked that, but I answered honestly. “No. I was in a serious relationship for several months. We started out as friends, and it evolved into something more.”
“I see. What happened?”
I’d nearly cried on the way here. Talking about what happened with Deacon would put me over the edge. “I’d rather not go into it. Let’s just say he freaked out and moved back to Minnesota. He was a good man, but not the one for me, I guess.”
“Fair enough.” Peter nodded and changed the subject.
We spent the next hour talking about much lighter subjects. I discovered Peter had grown up not far from where I did in Wayne, New Jersey. We’d never crossed paths, maybe because he was seven years older. But we had a blast recalling some of the old haunts we’d both frequented, including my favorite diner.
Peter came across as kind and attentive, and dare I say, I was actually enjoying the date. That is, until a text turned my evening on its axis.
No. It rocked my world.
Sharon: Everything’s fine, Carys. But I wanted to give you a heads up. Deacon came by tonight looking for you. It seems he’s back in New York.
CHAPTER 27
Deacon
FROM THE GROUND UP
What the fuck did you expect, Deacon?
You disappeared for four months, came back unannounced, and didn’t think there would be repercussions?
Carys had Sharon here babysitting. She was out. Sharon didn’t divulge where Carys was, but I put two and two together.
Fuck. I felt nauseous.
Originally, I was going to call her, give her some warning. But I decided it would be better to just jump into the fire. There was so much I needed to say to her, but that wasn’t going to be happening tonight.
Pacing in my apartment for over an hour, I listened intently for any sign that she’d come home. When I heard her door unlatch from the hallway, and muffled conversation through the wall, I knew she’d returned.
My pulse raced as I debated whether or not to go over there. I wasn’t sure if she’d text me once she found out I’d come by earlier. Maybe it was better if I waited until morning to bombard her.
One thing was for sure: I wouldn’t be sleeping for shit tonight.
* * *
Carys never texted or called. Not that she should’ve. But I’d braced myself for a “what the fuck are you doing back?” message.
Dragging myself out of bed, I got dressed before walking to the kitchen and making some coffee. Watching the java drip down into the carafe, I could feel my stomach in knots. My heart was in my throat as I geared myself up to face her. I didn’t know where to begin, or if she’d even listen.
I sipped my coffee alone at the table, running everything through my head, but knowing none of it was going to come out the right way. When I’d had two full cups—enough to make me jittery—I forced myself up.
Adrenaline pumped through me as I walked next door.
My knock was reluctant, lighter than it used be, representative of the shame I felt for having hurt her, for having left.
The stoic look on her face when she opened told me she’d been expecting me.
Despite my nerves, my body came alive with an awareness it hadn’t felt in too damn long, because holy shit I’d nearly forgotten how beautiful she was. Only now, her eyes emanated pain and confusion instead of happiness as she looked at me. And I deserved every bit of it. I never wanted to leave her again, and knew I wouldn’t—willingly, at least; I just had no clue how to convince her of that.
We stood in silence for the longest time, staring at each other until I finally mustered the courage to say, “Hello.”
“Hi,” she whispered.
I cleared my throat. “Can I come in?”
She nodded and moved out of the way.
Now we were back to staring at each other, only from a different spot.
“You look beautiful.”
She didn’t say anything, and that was all the hint I needed to understand how difficult this exchange was going to be.
Carys wore a fitted black turtleneck. Something told me she’d selected that particular shirt—one that covered her neck as protectively as armor—for the visit she likely knew I’d pay her today.
Sunny was playing on the floor. Oh my God. Sunny. I had to do a double-take. She’d gotten so much bigger. Her blond hair had grown and was tied up in a little wispy ponytail. When she finally looked up and saw me, she made brief eye contact and looked back down at her toys, as if I were a stranger.
My chest felt tight.
Did she not remember me? It had only been four months. Depending on how you looked at it, that could be a short time or a lifetime. I bet in almost-toddler years it was more the latter.
I walked over and knelt down. “Hey, Sunny. I missed you.”
She looked up, handed me one of her toys, and babbled, but she didn’t seem as excited as I’d hoped. I couldn’t blame her, but it still hurt not to be greeted by that infectious smile I loved so much.
I put two little plastic people inside the toy car she’d given me, then wheeled it toward her.
When I turned around to face Carys, she had her arms crossed over her chest. If she could have covered her entire head with that turtleneck, she might have considered it.
I had my work cut out for me and could only pray I wasn’t too late. Standing, I walked over to her. “I came by last night. You weren’t here.”
“I know.”
“I figured Sharon told you.”
“She did.”
I couldn’t fucking help myself. “You were out with someone?”
“Yes. I was on a date.”
Dread filled me as adrenaline pumped through my veins. “With Charles?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Charles? No. Why would you think that?”
“Adrian told me he saw you together a while back, so I thought maybe…”
“No. I’ve been lonely, but not desperate. Although Charles has been making an effort to get to know Sunny for some time now.”
“Are you good with that? He didn’t force his way—”
“It’s been fine. It’s been my choice.”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. “So you’re seeing someone…”
She hesitated before answering. “It was a first date. He was really nice, but once Sharon texted me that you were back, I found it hard to focus.”
Relief washed over me. I’d been about to apologize for ruining her night, but fuck that. I was thrilled I’d intercepted it. Now that she was standing right in front of me, I couldn’t imagine how I’d ever let her go in the first place, couldn’t fathom the idea of this woman I cared so deeply about in someone else’s arms.
Her tone turned colder. “Why did you come back?”
Taking a deep breath in, I said, “Because it was time.
I have a lot I need to explain, but I can’t blame you if you’re not ready to hear it.”
“Just yesterday I thought I’d never see you again, so forgive me if I don’t really know what to make of this, Deacon.”
“I know I have no right to your immediate attention. You’re in the driver’s seat, Carys. If you’re not in the mood to do this now, just let me know when we can talk. But we need to talk. Take all of the time you need to let the fact that I’m back set in. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere again.”
Her lip trembled. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”
“You don’t have to believe it. You don’t have to trust me, especially when I haven’t given you a reason to. But it’s the truth.”
When she started to cry, it nearly undid me. I wanted so badly to hold her. But I knew doing so would be crossing a line.
She wiped her eyes. “I need some time before we do this—before we talk.”
“I understand.”
I’d often imagined this moment, the day I came back. It hadn’t been as painful in my warped mind. Right now, I’d stepped into an alternate universe, one where instead of making Carys smile, I caused her pain. And one where Sunny didn’t recognize me. I was going to have to rebuild our relationship from the ground up—if Carys would even let me.
CHAPTER 28
Carys
JUST COFFEE
Despite saying he’d give me time to ready myself, Deacon texted me a few days later to ask if I would be willing to meet him during my lunch break on one of the days I worked in the office. I said yes. We needed to have the conversation away from Sunny.
I chose Friday, but instead of a lunch meet-up, I opted to have the sitter stay late so I could meet Deacon after work. I didn’t know how I’d feel after our talk, or how long the meeting would last, so I didn’t want to have to go back to the office.
Deacon was waiting in a corner seat at Starbucks when I arrived. It was my first time in here since before he’d left for Minnesota. He looked painfully handsome, dressed in all black. He fidgeted with his hands as his eyes wandered the room. His mouth curved into a hesitant smile when he spotted me. He stood.
When I approached, I could tell he wasn’t sure what to do, whether to hug me or not. He leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek. My nipples stiffened as soon as his mouth touched my skin, reminding me how much control he had over my body. I couldn’t let my strong physical attraction to him overpower my judgment.
“Sorry I’m a few minutes late,” I said as I sat across from him.
“I’m sorry if I pushed things by asking for this meeting sooner rather than later. I just couldn’t wait any longer.”
“It’s probably better that you pushed it, because I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.”
He nodded. “I know.” He pointed toward the counter and stood. “Let me get your usual.”
My stomach growled as he walked to the register, not from hunger but from nerves.
He returned and handed me my drink. “Here you go. One pump, just how you like it.”
I looked down at his name in black marker on the side of the cup, then back up at him.
When our eyes locked, he grinned slightly. My instinct was to smile back, but I wouldn’t let myself.
“Thank you for the coffee.”
“Of course.”
Deacon’s demeanor was a bit different from the last time I’d seen him right after he returned. His eye contact was more direct; he seemed determined to get through to me today.
He cleared his throat. “I know we don’t have an infinite amount of time, so I’m just gonna start.”
Staying silent, I took a sip of my drink.
“First off, I’ll never be able to apologize enough for the way I freaked out after our accident. Leaving the way I did was not the answer. It felt like I was doing you a favor at the time, but I see things much differently now.” He let out a long exhale. “The accident… It brought back some difficult memories for me, and I didn’t handle it well.” He shut his eyes. “There was something I hadn’t told you, and that omission was part of why my reaction probably didn’t make sense to you.”
My heart sank. I’d always suspected there was something he hadn’t said.
He took a deep breath. “When the accident happened back in college, my girlfriend at the time, Becca, was injured, too. She was ultimately okay—I told you that before. But…I didn’t tell you she was pregnant.” He swallowed.
I felt my eyes widen.
“She was four months along, and the impact of the crash was too much. She lost the baby.”
Sadness rushed through my body. “I’m sorry. So sorry, Deacon.”
He nodded and stared down at his cup. “So while the loss of my football career was devastating, it was compounded by knowing I hadn’t been able to stop the accident that killed my unborn child. It was so much more than football. And I’m sorry for never telling you that part. I was very ashamed.”
I reached across the table for his hand. He looped his fingers with mine.
“After the accident—understandably—Becca became depressed. Between that and my own depression, our relationship couldn’t survive. We were so young to begin with.” He squeezed my hand. “Anyway, we broke up, and soon after, I moved away to go to college out of state. And that was it.”
He would’ve had a child around ten years old now. I let go of his hand. Touching him felt too intense at the moment.
Deacon ran his fingers through his hair. “I ran away from everything back then, Carys. I hadn’t dealt with any of it until recently. It wasn’t until I met you that I started allowing myself to even reflect on those days.” He began to shred a napkin. “But then our accident, coming home from the farm…” He shut his eyes tightly for a moment. “It threw me back to that place I’d been a decade ago. I couldn’t protect the two people I cared about most in this world—it scared the fuck out of me. And I panicked, overcome by the fear that I was destined to hurt the people I love.”
I looked away. “Well, that certainly explains things a little more, but I don’t understand why you couldn’t have told me this then, why we couldn’t have worked it out together.”
He nodded silently. “I don’t fully have the answer to why I reacted the way I did, why I couldn’t sit down and tell you the story like I am now. I felt ashamed and a little shell-shocked, and I think running is my pattern. That’s how I handled the first accident, and my impulse was to do the same again. I know that was terrible, but I’ve realized that all this time, I hadn’t dealt with anything that happened back in college. I’d only buried it. It took being back in Minnesota, facing the people I believed I’d disappointed so badly, to start that process. Unfortunately, I also hurt and disappointed you.”
“What happened in Minnesota?”
“A lot happened. I don’t have to tell you about it all now, but—”
“Tell me,” I interrupted. “We’re here now. Tell me everything.”
Deacon went on to recount his father’s cancer diagnosis and how he’d connected again with his dad and his entire family. But I was most surprised by what he saved for last.
“Before I came back to New York, I decided to look Becca up on social media. I hadn’t seen her since leaving home ten years ago. My father convinced me it was important to get some closure there, since a lot of my guilt came from hurting her.”
A sudden wave of jealousy hit me. It was perhaps the strongest emotion I’d felt since this conversation started.
Did he rekindle something with Becca while he was away? “What happened?” I asked.
“Well, I found her profile online. We chatted for a bit and decided to meet for lunch.”
As angry as I was at Deacon for leaving, and as sad as I was to learn he’d lost a baby, nothing gripped me as powerfully as my jealousy over his reconnecting with someone he likely once loved.
“We met at this restaurant near her house. I told her we didn’t have to talk about the past if she
didn’t want to, but she was open to it. And it wasn’t anything like I’d expected—and dreaded.”
“Did you love her?”
“I thought I did. But honestly, I’m not sure if it was love. I was so young. I didn’t know what I wanted. When we found out she was pregnant, we had planned to stay together because of the baby, but then everything fell apart.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I asked, “What did Becca say when you met with her?”
He blew out a long breath. “She said she was pretty devastated that first year, not only about losing the baby, but about losing me. But in the end, she came to the conclusion that everything happens for a reason. She saw a therapist—something I’ve never done but probably should. A year after the accident, Becca went back to school. A couple of years ago, she met her current fiancé. They live together in the next town over from my parents with their dog.”
I exhaled. “So she’s happy.”
“Yeah, and my takeaway is that all these years I’d believed she must hate me and blame me for everything. But that was a reflection of my feelings toward myself. I know now that lack of communication can lead to years of needless suffering. Maybe I wanted to suffer because I felt I deserved it, but I certainly didn’t have to. And I don’t want to repeat that mistake, though I’ve already caused you needless suffering, too. I know that.”
We sat in silence for a bit until he took my hand again and looked into my eyes.
“Leaving the way I did was a huge mistake. I’m not justifying it, only trying to explain what I was thinking at the time and let you know that I grew a lot while I was away. I don’t know where your head is, Carys, or whether you can ever learn to trust me again. But I need you to know that I see things more clearly now. I’m not going anywhere. Even if you choose not to give me another chance, I’m not leaving again. I’ll be here for you no matter what—if not as your lover, then as your friend.”
The Anti-Boyfriend Page 22