I feel a little bit better now I suppose, so I take a bite of my own food and moan when it touches my tongue. “Okay. I’m good. Let’s go back to teasing Olivia about her eyebrow.”
“Nobody was teasing me about my brows.”
I grin languidly at her and fill my mouth with more yummy potatoes.
“Excuse me for a moment while I browse the dessert menu,” Maya utters, and I snigger around my fork.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Olivia grumbles good-naturedly.
“Well just so you know, I browsed Google for that one,” she adds and I laugh harder. It’s stupid but it’s punny as hell.
“On a serious note, I love your bag,” I say to Olivia, lightly touching the leather strap of the bag that hangs over her chair.
“Summer is obsessed with Coachella.”
“Are you serious? You should come over. I’ve got a closet full of them that you can choose from.”
I clasp my hands under my chin. “You mean it? I can browse through your selection of bags?”
Maya cackles with laughter and we fist bump. Olivia groans and slots her sunglasses back over her eyes. “You’re both absolute cunts.”
“I love it when you swear at me in English,” Maya sighs wistfully. “It sounds so sexy. Angelina Jolie-esque.”
“That’s not a thing.”
I blink at Olivia. “It absolutely is a thing. I would totally sit on her face.”
“Not surprising considering you had your face in my lap today.” Maya grins and wags her brows at me. Then she curses dramatically and says, “Sorry, Olivia, I forgot you can’t do that anymore.”
Olivia flips her off and then we all laugh, I forget about my prior worries and smile at my friends. I hope she meant what she said about allowing me a choice of a Coachella bag. I’d be forever in her debt.
“What has Elijah said about the missing eyebrow?”
“He hasn’t seen me yet.” She leans forward to take a bite of her food and her sunglasses fall from her face and land in her sauce.
Maya and I find this hilarious of course as she mutters a string of curses and cleans the glasses with a napkin.
“You’re so adorkable,” Maya tells Olivia and pinches her cheek.
“I wonder if Elijah will even notice. Loryn didn’t do too bad of a job of drawing it back on.” She assesses her brow using her phone screen.
I grin down at my phone, surprised when I see a text from Chris.
“Excuse me,” I mutter as I read it.
Chris: Are we still on for Sunday?
Summer: Definitely. I’m looking forward to it.
Chris: Me too. It has been too long. What are you doing right now?
Summer: Enjoying lunch with Maya and Olivia. Loryn’s new beauty tech lady accidentally waxed off half of Olivia’s eyebrow. So funny.
Chris: That’s tragic. Hilarious but tragic. I know how much you ladies care about your brows.
Summer: We’re hideous without them. Search on Google, “why are brows important.” Then click images.
“Who is it?” Maya asks, raising a brow. “You’re all smiley.”
“It’s Chris,” I reply and ignore the raised-brow look she gives me. She returns to her conversation with Olivia and I return to my conversation with my soon-to-be ex-husband.
Chris: You just had to make me do that, didn’t you?
Summer: Right?! Cannot edit the brain images of our most beloved celebrities. Though Whoopie Goldberg shaves hers off anyway and she looks awesome. Think I’d look good without eyebrows?
Chris: As gorgeous as you are, I don’t think that’s a look even you can pull off.
This feels like flirting, I can tell because of the racing in my chest. Not because I’m enjoying it, but because it’s familiar and I feel guilty.
Summer: Thanks… I think. I’ll see you on Sunday.
There, precise and to the point and not flirty back. That’ll do.
Just as I put my phone down, Mason calls. These guys don’t half overlap each other. Fuck.
“Yes, babe?”
“I have never had a drawer full of clean socks before,” he rumbles, I’m not sure if he sounds pleased or not. “Or a drawer full of clean briefs. And the towels have been folded.”
“Well, it’s a start,” I reply, crossing my eyes at Maya. “Is it a problem?”
“Hell no. Just thinking back to the times I’d leave my clean laundry in a hamper and dig through it every morning. Didn’t have to do that today. Just opened my drawer. Felt like magic.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “It’s just clean laundry, Mason. Nothing special.”
“I disagree.”
“Are you calling to complain or…?”
“Hell no, I’m calling to say thank you. I feel weird knowing you did it but I appreciate it all the same. I want to take you out later.”
I follow the lace pattern of the tablecloth with my finger. “That sounds good.”
“Good. It’s a date.”
He hangs up and I smile at Maya. “Mason is taking me out later.”
“Ooooh very nice. Looks like things are working out for you.” She sounds a little bit smug. “Told you so.”
“This was insane,” I cry as we leave the building, my skin still buzzing at what I just experienced. “For real, so crazy.”
Mason slings his arm around my shoulder. “I knew you’d like it.”
“I’ve been wanting to go for ages but never got around to it.” I rotate through the recent memories of the underwater adventure we just experienced in 4D. I’ve never felt so close to the ocean floor before. I’d love to go scuba diving for real one day. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He kisses my temple and hands me the plastic shark fridge magnet he bought from the gift shop. I stuff it into my brand-new Coachella bag, compliments of Olivia and Elijah who took me back to their place for a couple of hours and let me loose in her closet.
They make such a nice couple; they just mesh so well together. The way he is with her, how he touches her and makes her blush is so sweet. And he was very gracious to me too, but he was mostly disinterested. Not in a rude way. I think he’s just quiet.
He only had eyes for her, in all ways. Not hard to see why. She’s gorgeous and so sweet.
“I can’t believe you leave tomorrow,” I say after a moment of walking. “I’m going to miss you.”
He kisses my hair this time. “I’m going to miss you too. I’m going to miss the way you curl around me in bed.”
“I warned you that I fidget.”
“I like it.”
I tilt my head back and accept his lips. “Please be safe.”
“Please don’t forget about me while I’m gone.”
“Never.”
“I’ll email you as often as I can.”
I smile at that and kiss him again, keeping my eyes locked on his. “I’ll return the favor.”
“And I want daily pictures of this.” His hand goes to my still flat tum. I can’t wait to start showing a bump, I think it will set my mind at ease and reassure me that my babies are growing well. Twins are so much higher risk than a single baby. “I don’t want to miss a moment.”
“I promise.” And it’s a promise I intend to keep.
* * *
Last night comprised of a lot of sex. Something Mason and I excel at as a team. I said this to him and he thought it hilarious.
We stayed up most of the night swapping stories and making out. Then he instructed me on how to brush Lancelot and what to feed her, and what foods to not feed her, and who to call if she gets sick.
I don’t think either of us wanted to sleep knowing what today would bring.
He’s leaving and I am devastated.
The gang and I take him to the airport where he has to fly to North Carolina where he will be based for the next week while he’s briefed.
We eat an early lunch, laugh and joke, hug and smile, and then he’s gone and I cry. Marie and I hold each other though she’s not crying
, she’s not a crier and she said there’s nothing to cry about because Mason is a pain in her ass and she deserves a break.
But he’s not a pain in anybody’s ass.
He’s one of the best guys I know and I’m devastated.
He looked devastated too.
I’m not going to see him now until after Thanksgiving.
Fushka.
Fuck.
Shit.
I miss him already.
“On the flip side,” Maya says, looking watery eyed. “You can now officially make a no-shoes rule in the apartment and he won’t be able to say dick about it when he gets home.”
“I am so looking forward to decorating,” I murmur and pat Marie on the head. “Not that I don’t like what you’ve done with the place. Just that it’s drab as fuck.”
“Shut your whore mouth,” Marie grumbles and hits me with a glare.
I laugh and run away from her before she can hit me, using James as a shield between us.
“Don’t bring me into this,” he moans as I drag him around by his arms and Marie wields her sandal like a weapon.
When he wriggles free I throw my arms around Marie and declare, “Let’s have a girls’ night seeing as our men have abandoned us.”
“Sounds good, but I’m choosing the movie.”
“Whatever.”
“Can I come too?” Maya begs, throwing her arms around us both.
“Whatever,” Marie and I chorus and then smile sadly. Our eyes transfer our feelings that we won’t mention because what good will it do? Mason isn’t here and he won’t be for three months.
Walking down my old driveway to my old two-story home is a surreal feeling. It feels like another lifetime and the nostalgia is hitting me in waves of conflicting emotions.
The front door opens and Chris steps out, his blond hair has been cut short. It fades at the sides and joins his equally neat beard. He’s tan, I can’t tell if it’s real or a spray, but it really suits him. Wow, he looks great.
My breath hitches and I stop halfway down the drive to lift my sunglasses to get a better look.
His arms are more toned than I remember, he’s lost a bit of his gut and I wonder if he’s been working out.
“Summer.” He clears the distance between us and hugs me under my arms, lifting my feet off the ground.
I wrap my arms around his neck and inhale. He still wears my favorite aftershave. God, he smells so good and familiar.
“Hey, Chris.” I lean back when he drops me and I look into his blue eyes, searching them for any signs of hatred. So far so good. “You look amazing.”
“You think so?” he asks, smiling and flexing his bicep under my hand playfully. With his hand at the small of my back he leads me inside. “Losing you was a bit of an eye opener at how lazy I was getting, let me tell you.”
His words affect me, I can’t deny that.
We step into my old home and I’m surprised to see that our wedding photo is still on the refrigerator door. I had expected him to get rid of it all like he said he would.
I remember being so excited about this kitchen. It felt like forever waiting for the previous owners to move out.
“Coffee?”
I nod. “Please.”
He hesitates. “I’m ashamed to admit I don’t know how you like it.”
I give him a tight-lipped smile. “You never made me coffee, so how would you know?”
His cheeks tinge with pink. “I guess we’re both guilty of bad things.”
“Let’s not dwell. This is good that we’re doing this. I don’t want to fight.”
He smiles genuinely. “I don’t either.”
I watch him work the coffeepot and wonder how long it took him to figure it out. His mother babied him up until he left home and then I babied him after that. He didn’t know how to do a thing himself and I didn’t push him to either. I was happy to look after him, until I suddenly wasn’t anymore.
When he looks at me expectantly, I realize I still haven’t told him how I like it.
“Just milk, no sugar,” I state and pull myself up onto the bar. “And you like it with milk and one and a half sugars, depending how strong it is.”
“Exactly.” He smiles and then turns with my mug in his hands. I nurse it, inhaling the scent of the coffee. “Is it okay?”
I taste it and hum. “It’s perfect. You’re still buying the good coffee, I can tell.”
“Glad you approve.”
An awkward silence descends, and I try hard not to giggle as we sip our drinks, making slurping noises in the large, empty kitchen.
“So, how are things, Sums? Did you and Maya make up?”
I nod. “Ages ago.”
“And you and Mason?” he questions though his eyes are guarded.
I contemplate lying because I don’t want him to get mad and throw me out. But that would be wrong. “You really want to talk about that?”
Good deflection.
“I know you’re still seeing him,” he admits with only a slight bitterness to his tone. “Does he know you’re here?”
I nod meekly. “Let’s not talk about it.”
“Probably best, it just makes me…” His words trail off and a smile comes back to his face.
“Why did you invite me here?” I ask softly and bring my mug to my lips again. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Honestly?” He raises his hands and drops them as though he himself is confused by it. “I guess I miss you.”
My bottom lip trembles. “I miss you too.” I hop down and wrap my arms around his waist. “I am so sorry for everything I’ve done.”
“No… I mean yeah, I’m glad you’re sorry but you’re not the only one to blame,” he whispers, tipping my head back and casting his blue-eyed gaze over my face. “I wish I never kicked you out. I wish I’d made you stay to talk about it.”
“Chris…” When I try to pull away, he holds me tighter, his hands around my back, his fingers splayed between my shoulder blades.
“I waited; I’m not going to lie.” He laughs, it’s one of anger and sorrow, not of humor in the slightest. “I thought the less interest I showed the more likely you were to come home and beg for forgiveness, but then I realized, what did you have to return to? What was so good about being here that you’d want to fight for a chance to come home?”
“Please, don’t…” Don’t make this harder than it has to be.
“I wasn’t good to you. I was ignorant and pessimistic; I was argumentative, and I spoke to you like shit. I treated you like my maid and my mother, not my wife. I can’t remember the last time I bothered to go down on you or give you an orgasm.”
He’s right but we don’t need to discuss this.
He continues, his hand now in my hair, his body now flush against my own. He’s familiar, he’s warm, but he’s not Mason.
“We’re not right for each other,” I snap, ducking under his arm and moving out of reach. He looks dejected but it’s his own fault. I didn’t invite him into my personal space. “We never were.”
“We were fucking amazing together.” His eyes narrow and he stalks toward me again. “You’re my wife.”
“Chris,” I beg, my tone desperate. “Don’t…”
“We’re still married, I’m willing to work through this if you are. We can go to couples therapy. This is the seven-year itch, that’s all. It happens. Of course, what you did was… it was cruel and unnecessary, but I am willing to work through it with you if you’ll try?”
Oh my God. My breath comes out in sharp, short pants. I swallow and rip my hands through my hair. I can’t believe this is happening. He wants me back. He wants to try again.
He is my husband, he’s right, I thought I wanted to be with him forever. I said my vows.
He’s so familiar and he’s safe. It’s hard to shake that feeling.
But I can’t do this with him.
Not just because of the pregnancy either.
“Chris, I am so sorry, but I just ca
n’t. Too much time has passed, too many things have happened.”
“Is this because of him?” he growls, his hands fisting at his side. “Please don’t tell me you’re in love with him, Summer. Because if you’re not we could still work things out.”
“Where is this coming from?” I yell, panicked and exasperated. “We haven’t spoken since I left.”
“BECAUSE I WAS WAITING FOR YOU!” he bellows, startling me. He has never yelled at me before. I dodge away from him again, but he backs me into the refrigerator and places his hands either side of my head, trapping me. “Everybody said to give you time, you’d come crawling back and you never did. Because they don’t know the extent of it, do they? They don’t know what our relationship has been like for the past two years. It’s been shit and I can’t even blame you for that because you held on until the very end.”
“I warned you,” I breathe. “I kept saying I was going to leave.”
“And I heard you, but I was an idiot and believed you would never leave, and we’d fix it eventually, like a leaky tap or something.” He presses his forehead to mine and his blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry.” His lips touch my cheek. “I just want everything back to how it was after the wedding. We found happiness for a while, didn’t we?”
“I guess.” I sniff, and his lips touch my brow, making my face tingle. My hand presses against his chest, I feel his familiar heartbeat against my palm and wet my lips. “Chris, step back, please.”
“Don’t make me, Sums. Come home. Leave him. We can figure this out.”
“You need to move on.”
His face falls. “I don’t want to move on. You don’t think I’ve tried? None of them measure up to you. I dated somebody for three weeks and she got pissy when I went anywhere without her. You never did. You never would. We had our separate lives and our life together. We were happy.”
“Chris, step back.”
“Tell me why you won’t try? We’re married, damn it.”
A Little Bit of Guilt: Little Bits #5 Page 16