“Ignoring you?” Mom demands, and sits at the table, the sandwich forgotten.
“Let’s not mince words,” I say, and look them both in the eyes. “I was never allowed to eat with you. You kept me busy in school to keep me out of your way. I hated sports. I didn’t even particularly like the piano.”
“Do you have any idea how much it cost to keep you in piano lessons? In sports?” Mom sits back, angry now, her brown eyes wide and frustrated. “We gave you everything. Sent you to the best schools. The best college.”
“I had everything so you wouldn’t have to be bothered with me,” I interrupt her. “And it’s the past. There’s no changing it. I just want to know, why? What was it about me that was so unlovable that you couldn’t bear to even eat meals with me?”
I hate that I hear the catch in my voice, but I firm my lip, refusing to back down.
“That wasn’t it,” Dad says softly. “You were always such a self-sufficient child, Alecia. You played well alone.”
I shake my head, and can’t help but laugh humorlessly.
“Dad, I learned to be self-sufficient. You two never made a secret of the fact that you’d wished it was just the two of you. I’ve always, always felt like a third wheel. You didn’t want me.” I shrug as Mom gasps, covering her mouth with her hand in surprise. “Really, Mom? You don’t even know what city I live in.”
“Maybe we could have paid more attention,” Dad says thoughtfully. “But I, for one, thought we were giving you the best of everything. The best music lessons and sports programs. The school. Your mother and I worked very hard to be able to afford those things for you, Alecia.”
“I worked more than full-time just to pay the tuition for the private school,” Mom adds.
“I’m not saying that I did without things.” I swallow and fist my hands, pissed that they’re starting to shake. “I had plenty of things. But I didn’t have affection. I didn’t feel loved. And I just want to know what it is about me that is so unlovable.”
“My God, Alecia!” Mom exclaims. “Of course we love you. You’re our little girl!”
“I don’t remember you ever saying I love you to me. You didn’t hug me. You’ve never said you were proud of me.”
They stare at each other in confusion, then look back to me.
“You hugged each other. I come from a very loving marriage,” I continue. “But I don’t come from an affectionate family.”
“I guess we weren’t terribly demonstrative when it came to affection,” Mom says.
“Some people just aren’t,” Dad says with a shrug. “But we never mistreated you. We didn’t hit you or yell at you or even punish you very often.”
I sigh and rub my hands over my face. “Why do I feel like I’m spinning my wheels?”
“Are you saying we’re shitty parents, Alecia?” Dad asks.
“Yes! And I want to know why you don’t love me!” I yell and stand, my hands in fists at my sides. “I want to know why you never held me, or said kind fucking things to me! I want to know why you always sent me away rather than keeping me close to you!”
“Watch your language, daughter,” Mom warns sternly, but I just shake my head and pound my fist on the table.
“I didn’t deserve that!”
“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Mom says with a sniff, her nose in the air, and I know that they aren’t going to answer me.
“Maybe,” I begin thoughtfully, “you’re just too self-absorbed to realize that you did anything wrong. Maybe it’s easier to live in denial, in your perfect little home, your perfect little bubble, and believe that you treated me well. But I came here to tell you that you didn’t. And that it’s not okay. It’s made me question myself my whole life.”
I sit back in the chair and clasp my hands together. “I’ve always wondered why I was so unlovable. What did I do? I ran into the arms of the first man—boy then—to show me attention, and I ran as fast and as far as I could when I graduated to escape the loneliness of this house. You don’t want to acknowledge that you’re shitty parents? Fine.”
I stand and lift my handbag. “You were shitty parents. But I love you, because you’re my parents.”
I turn to leave, but when I get to the kitchen door, I turn back to them. “If you ever want to have a relationship with your only daughter, you call me. I’m not going to chase after your love. I’m not going to beg for it. For the first time in my life, I’m at the top of someone’s priority list: mine.”
On shaky legs, I walk through the home of my childhood, out the door and to my car. It takes me three tries to get the key in the ignition, but I finally pull away, breathing hard, trembling, but so fucking proud of myself.
It’s about time I stand up for myself.
I get to the end of the block when my phone rings.
Jules.
I send it to voice mail and shake my head. I cannot deal with talking to any of the Montgomerys today.
Instead, I search for another contact and press send.
“Alecia?”
“Hello, Jonathan,” I reply and clear my throat. “Would you be willing to meet up with me for breakfast tomorrow?”
“You’re in San Francisco?”
“Yes.” No, I want you to fly your dumb ass to Seattle and meet me there.
“Where?”
“Our diner, nine o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.” He pauses. “Are you okay?”
“I’m going to be.” I end the call and point my car toward my hotel. The phone rings again.
Unknown Number.
“Fucking telemarketers,” I mumble, and send it to voice mail, and no sooner does the phone ring again.
Jules.
“What?” I snap.
“Um…hello.” I can hear commotion in the background. People laughing.
“Sorry, Jules. What can I do for you?”
“Well, we’re having a family dinner, and Jax and Logan are here, and they’ve decided to get married in two weeks, which I know is short notice, but we want to make sure that if you can’t help plan, you can at least come to it.” She pauses to take a breath and I can hear someone—Sam?—yell, “You better bring your sexy ass to it!”
Oh, hell no.
“I’m sorry, Jules, I’m quite sure I have an event that day.”
“No, you don’t. I talked to Emily.”
“Then why did you just ask if I did?”
“Well, I’m polite, aren’t I?”
I can’t help but grin.
“If there’s no event, it must be because I have something else going on. Thanks for thinking of me, but I’m going to have to decline.”
I can hear movement, and the background noise lessening until it’s nonexistent, and then Jules says, “Okay, cut the shit. What is going on?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t sound like yourself at all. You sound…sad. Talk to me, friend.”
She just had to throw friend in there, didn’t she?
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be at one of your family’s parties right now, Jules.”
“What did my idiot brother do?”
I frown and park at the hotel. “Who said he did anything?”
“I’m not stupid, Alecia. Talk to me.”
I take a deep breath. My nerves are already shot from my visit with my parents, and I haven’t slept in days. To my horror, I feel my eyes fill with tears.
“I just don’t think it’s going to work out between your brother and me.”
“Why?” Jules asks in a soft voice. “I think you’re perfect together.”
“I need to be with someone who makes me a priority, Jules.”
“Okay.” She sounds confused. “What’s the problem?”
“I’m not that for Dominic. And I deserve that, Jules. I need it.”
“Everyone deserves it, but I don’t understand why you think you’re not a priority for Dom. Hold on.” She pulls the phone away from her face and m
urmurs to someone quietly before returning.
“Please don’t tell the family about this.”
“That was my dad. He’s just making sure everything is okay. He won’t say anything.”
“I hope you’ll still think of me when events come up.”
“Girl, you’re doing Jax and Logan’s wedding. We won’t take no for an answer.”
I bite my lip as longing fills me. I love working with this family. It’s not just because of the money, but because they’re fun and my best clients. I don’t want to give them up.
And why should I have to? I didn’t do anything wrong!
“Okay. I’ll call you next week. I’m out of town right now.”
“Where are you?”
“San Francisco. I have some demons to put to rest.”
“Alecia, I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you next week.”
She sighs in my ear. “Fine. We’ll talk next week. And I mean talk, Alecia.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
***
When I arrive at the Alley Cat, the diner that Jonathan and I had Sunday morning breakfast at every week during our entire marriage, he’s already sitting in our booth, near the back, looking nervous as he stares down into his coffee mug. I take a minute to soak in the sight of him. His mink-brown hair is longer than he used to wear it, almost shaggy. He’s still thin, just this side of too thin, with no muscle definition on his arms. He’s wearing his usual metal band T-shirt and baggy jeans.
He looks young. Carefree.
I sit opposite from him, unlike when we were married.
“You used to sit beside me,” he says with a half-smile and sits back in the booth arrogantly.
I don’t return it.
Instead, I sit back and say the first thing that comes to mind.
“You should be ashamed of the way you treated me.”
His eyes widen, but I see I’ve struck him dumb, so I continue.
“The way you used to belittle my job? Not okay.” My voice is perfectly calm, but my eyes are pinned to his. “The way you’d give me the silent treatment when I disappointed you? Definitely not okay. Making me feel small, or that your shortcomings were my fault, was not okay.”
The waitress appears to take my drink order, but I simply shake my head, sending her on her way.
“You pushed me away when I tried to give you affection. You made sure I knew that I was the last person on your priority list. You had inappropriate relationships with women that you weren’t married to.” I lean forward, bracing myself on my elbows. His face has paled, but his mouth is tight, and I can see I’m pissing him off. “And making me feel like a piece of shit because my sexual appetites weren’t the same as yours was not fucking okay.”
He swallows hard. “Are you done?”
I tip my head back and forth, giving it some thought. “For now.”
“It’s good to see you too. You look beautiful, by the way.”
I blink and frown at him. “I’m out of here.”
“Wait.” His hand covers mine before I can slide out of the booth. “Don’t go. You’re right. None of that was okay.”
“Okay.” I pull my hand out of his and watch him quietly. “Since we agree on that, now I get to ask you why.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Why was I a douche?”
“You were an asshole, Jonathan. And I want to know why. What was it about me that was so unlovable? What gave you the right to make me feel less than, especially knowing my past with my parents.”
“Oh, Alecia, you are not unlovable. I’ll apologize first and foremost if I ever made you feel that way.”
My eyebrows lift in surprise.
“I was so in love with you I couldn’t see straight. You were beautiful and smart and so fucking talented.”
My jaw drops, and then I recover and simply scowl at him.
“If that’s how you treat someone you love, I really don’t want to know how you’d treat someone you can’t stand.”
“I was never good enough for you, Alecia. I knew that. I didn’t know why you were with me. And when you started your business and it became successful, I was worried.”
“Worried?”
“That you’d figure out that I wasn’t good enough for you. I dumbed it down, made it seem insignificant, because I was too much of a pussy to simply be proud of you. And the rest?” He shrugs and shakes his head. “I’ve been going through some therapy to figure it out. I knew I was hurting you, and I hated it, but I couldn’t stop.”
“What’s the verdict?”
“I’m a selfish jerk.”
“Pretty close,” I reply with a nod. “You do realize that being a complete asshole to someone that you’re afraid of losing is not the way to keep them.”
“Hey, no one said I was smart.”
His face sobers.
“Your parents didn’t deserve you, blondie. I sure as fuck didn’t deserve you either. But it didn’t have anything at all to do with you not being lovable.”
“It seems I’m the common denominator here, J.”
He shakes his head adamantly. “You had shitty luck when it came to the people who were in your life. And I’ve wanted to see you for a long time to say I’m sorry.”
“Well, this isn’t what I was expecting.”
“Were you going to rail at me, throw my coffee in my lap, and stomp off all self-righteously?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, before you do that, just know that I’m sorry for being a douche. You deserve someone who will love you and appreciate you in ways no one ever has before. I want that for you, blondie.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, and bite my lip to keep the tears at bay.
“You never came to get your piano or your other things. They’re still at the house. You can come get them whenever you want.”
“You didn’t sell the house?”
“No.”
“I don’t want the piano.” I sniff and shake my head, looking out the window to the waterfront.
“Seriously? But you’re so damn good at it.”
“I only ever played it for my parents. I won’t play it again.” I gaze over at my ex-husband and finally offer him a soft smile. “It was good to see you too, J.”
He reaches for my hand, and for just this moment, I let him.
It feels familiar, but it’s not the hand I want to hold mine. Not even close.
“I want you to shine, Alecia. And I want to tell you, right here in our place, I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I lean in and kiss his hand, then smile at him. “Thank you.”
And with that, I stand and walk away, not looking back.
Chapter Twenty One
~Dominic~
God, I’m so fucking tired. Being gone from my vineyard for ten days was too damn long. Celeste is fantastic, but I like things to be done a certain way, so I’ve done nothing for the past forty-eight hours but work and sleep, trying to shake this God-forsaken jet lag.
I hit send on an email, cementing a partnership with a new restaurant in the Portland area called Seduction, intrigued by the five owners, and make a mental note to take a trip down there soon to check it out.
I begin reading through an application for an event for this fall, and stumble when I see that it’s Alecia who is planning the affair.
I wish she’d talk to me. I’ve tried to call her several times over the past few weeks, but she’s not answered, and I refuse to beg her to answer the goddamn phone via text.
That’s just ridiculous.
I eye my phone and wonder just how ridiculous it really is, just as there’s a knock on my door, and am surprised to find Steven standing outside my office.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, as I stand and gesture for him to come inside. I close the door behind him.
“Oh, yes, I called earlier and Celeste said you were in today, so I thought I’d drop in and see how your trip went.
”
“It was…necessary,” I reply and sit in my chair as he takes a seat before me. “But the issue seems to be resolved now.”
I secured a loan for Gianna, without telling her that I’m the one backing it, so she can get back on her feet. And I managed to have a heart-to-heart with Marco, right after I knocked him on his ass.
Both were immensely satisfying.
“I’m glad you’re home,” my father replies with a smile. He steeples his hands. “Did Alecia enjoy Italy?”
I lean back in my chair and shake my head. “She didn’t go.”
“Why not?”
I watch my father and consider lying, but instead I simply say, “I think I fucked up, and Alecia and I are done.”
He cocks a brow. “What did you do?”
I stand and turn my back to him, push my hands in my pockets and stare out the window that looks out over my land. The remnants from Will’s wedding are long gone, and it’s as though Alecia was never here.
Except that I see her everywhere I look.
“I thought I caught her having an affair with her best friend,” I admit softly. “I was angry. Hurt, actually.”
“Of course.”
“But now, I’m not so sure that what I saw was what it looked like, and I can’t get her to take my calls. I have a feeling she’s done with me.”
I sigh and turn back to him.
“So now, I need to know how I’m supposed to get her out of my system and move on.”
“Well, you know what they say about getting a woman out of your head, son. Put another one in your bed.”
My eyes narrow as anger shoots through me.
“I’m not interested in fucking someone else. I can’t hop from the bed of the woman I’m in love with to someone else’s. Maybe you can tell me how to do that, Dad.”
Steven doesn’t even flinch. “I deserve that.” He nods slowly for a moment.
“Yes, you do.”
“I think it’s very telling that you’re not interested in other women, Dom. Maybe it’s not as over as you think it is. Seems a shame to give up on something you worked so hard to have in your life.”
“She won’t speak to me,” I remind him. “And now that we’re on the subject, how could you do it? How could you bounce from Gail to my mom?”
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