by Mary Campisi
“Are you trying to break up with me?”
Her eyes grew wide. “What are you talking about?”
“Have you listened to yourself these past few weeks? You don’t like what people are saying about you, you don’t like that women are talking to me, you don’t like what I’m saying to you, even though I’m telling you the truth.” He sighed. “You don’t want to hear it.”
“How do I know it’s the truth?”
“If you don’t know, then maybe we aren’t right for each other because I know.” He jabbed his finger against his chest. “I know in here that we belong together, whether we’re in a cabin in the hills or in the middle of a city or we’re right smack in Magdalena with people questioning your integrity. None of that matters because I know we belong together and if you don’t, if you really question my loyalty and my love, then maybe it’s you who doesn’t want this relationship enough. Did you ever think of that? Maybe it’s you who wants to destroy us.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Is it?” He tried to ignore the ache in his heart. “Is it really so ridiculous?”
“Yes,” she stammered, “of course it is.”
The more he spoke, the more plausible it all seemed. “I’ve been more patient with you than I’ve ever been with anybody in my life. I’ve been more open and honest, more determined to make this work, more in love. But it’s not enough.”
“Pete—”
“No, let me finish. I can spend the rest of my life trying to convince you how much I love you, how much I’m never going to cheat on you…”
“How can you say that?”
He balled his hands into fists, narrowed his gaze on her. “Because I know, because I know me, because I know the situations that I will and will not put myself in.” His words fell out in choppy breaths. “Because I am not that guy.”
“I know, but…”
“You don’t know, you think you do, but you don’t. Maybe you’re trying to screw this up because you’re afraid, but you’re screwing us up. This could be a chance that’s never going to come again for us. And if you keep telling yourself that we don’t belong together, that I’m not loyal, you’re going to convince yourself and maybe you’re going to convince me, too, if you keep it up.”
“Pete, I…”
He shook his head. “No more. I love you so damn much it hurts to breathe, and if that’s not enough for you and I’m not enough for you, then you figure it out and when you do, you let me know if we should have a wedding or if we should just call it off. But I’m not going to live the rest of my life like this, wondering about your mood, worrying that if I talk to a woman you might accuse me of doing something I never even thought about doing. I won’t live that way, Elissa, no matter how much I love you.” Pete took in the tears, the quivering lips, the sadness on her face. It didn’t matter how much he wanted this; if Elissa wasn’t all-in, nothing he said or did would convince her. He sucked in a breath, cleared his throat. “I’ll pack a bag and head to my mom and dad’s. You can stay here and when you decide what you want to do, let me know.”
6
Of all the couples in Magdalena, Elissa thought Nate and Christine Desantro were the perfect example of what love and marriage looked like. Christine and Nate had invited Elissa and Pete to their home for dinner a few times, and Elissa had witnessed the interaction between the couple, the gentle touch on the arm, the sideways glances, the smiles without words. Their commitment to one another was obvious and palpable. Nate Desantro was a mountain of a man who held his babies, cooked for his wife, and built a bedroom set for their oldest daughter. Could love be more pure than this one?
How did a couple keep such a love from stagnating, or worse, disintegrating after years of marriage, babies, and the inevitable heartache and disappointment that came along? Nate and Christine had found a way and it made Elissa queasy to think she might have had a hand in almost destroying that love. And why? Because she’d believed the lies of a deceitful woman who claimed she’d been wronged by her family. Had Gloria Blacksworth ever cared about Elissa, or had it all been a ploy to manipulate her to do her bidding? A dying woman presented a great cause, and Elissa had always been one to believe in causes and the honesty of others.
What was wrong with her? How could she not tell when a person was lying? Did she not possess the skill or insight to look through the lies and see the ulterior motive? She loved Pete in a way she’d never loved before, and yet she wasn’t 100 percent sure she trusted him not to hurt her, not to disappoint her, not to leave her. After Pete packed up and headed to his parents’, Elissa cried and then she called Christine Desantro, the woman who should hate her but instead invited her to her home to talk.
And now they were sitting in the kitchen of the Desantro home, sipping iced tea and munching on slices of banana bread.
“Nate and I had a rocky beginning with a lot of misunderstanding and a lot of hurt.”
Elissa stared at the gracious, beautiful woman who sat across from her. “You and Nate at odds with each other? I find that hard to believe unless you’re talking about what your mother did?”
Christine’s blue eyes turned dark, her expression fierce. “Nate and I didn’t exactly get along. He thought I was spoiled, rich, and self-absorbed. I thought he was rude, undisciplined, and heartless.” She smiled, let out a small laugh. “We were at odds for a long time. But once we stopped judging, we opened our eyes and our hearts and truly saw each other. That’s when we fell in love, and that’s when I really knew what life and love meant.”
“I see that love when I look at the two of you and it’s so strong, it steals my breath, makes me want that kind of love.”
“You can have it, but you have to trust one another and you have to work at it, not just when things are going well, but when they’re not. When the last thing you want to do is try, when you’re ready to give up but you don’t because you remember you love that person even if in that moment, you don’t like him very much.”
“How do you love a person and not like them?” That sounded bizarre and implausible.
“It happens more often than you think. Nate and I are lucky because we work at it, even when we don’t agree.”
“Will you tell me what happened between you and your mother?” Gloria Blacksworth had provided different stories, all of them casting herself as the victim, and to a young, gullible person like Elissa, the tales had proven tragic and in need of redemption. All lies.
Christine tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and said in a voice filled with emotion, “You mean how she almost destroyed my marriage and ruined the best thing that ever happened to me?”
Elissa nodded. “If it’s too painful to talk about, I understand. It’s just that Pete and I are having a really hard time right now. Most of it’s my fault, and I’m trying to figure out why I do what I do, why I can’t trust, why I can’t believe. You’ve been hurt and you still trust.”
“Men are very complex, interesting, fascinating, yet frustrating creatures. We think we understand them and then they do something that totally surprises us.” Christine shot Elissa a sideways glance. “And not always in a good way. They could mean well and yet their actions say the exact opposite, or they might not even know what their actions say. They know what they feel but they can’t express it. My husband had a very difficult time with a few areas and we certainly had to work on them. I won’t go into details because he wouldn’t want me to, and I wouldn’t do that to him, and besides, you wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
That made Elissa very curious. “So, you weren’t always the perfect couple?”
“No, definitely not. We struggled, we argued, just like anyone else, and we still do, but we’re committed to making it work and no matter what, family comes first.” She paused, said in a quiet voice, “My mother never understood that a person could have a difference of opinion and still love the other person, that there was more than one right way to do things, and that the right answer wasn’t alw
ays tied into a bank account or a fancy name. Just because people are different doesn’t mean we should try to make them like us or what we want them to be. If we feel we have to change someone so completely, then maybe we’re with the wrong person.”
Was she talking about Elissa and Pete? She didn’t want to change him; she loved him, but she was so afraid. What if he broke her heart, what if he grew tired of her? So many questions with no answers. “Pete moved out.”
Christine frowned. “Moved out? What exactly does that mean?”
She meant, Is the wedding off, are you breaking up, are you no longer a couple… Elissa dragged a hand over her face, blinked hard. “We seem to be having some serious trust issues…like therapist-on-the-couch-talking-about-trust issues.” Elissa blinked again, swiped at her cheeks. “That’s why he moved out.”
“You mean he didn’t want to be questioned? That doesn’t sound like something Pete would do. Not that I know him well, but it’s obvious he loves you.”
“It wasn’t Pete. It was me. When my ex cheated on me, I guess I shut down and didn’t even realize it. Pete and I got so close so fast that I didn’t consider what the day-to-day life would look like, having to trust him when I had questions, not trusting him when I didn’t know where he was. I didn’t like those feelings. He didn’t do anything to deserve my mistrust and yet I’m making him pay for it, maybe even destroying our relationship.” Her voice cracked open, wobbled. “And I don’t know how to stop.”
Christine laid a hand on her arm, said in a gentle voice, “There comes a time when you have to take a blind leap. You don’t know 100 percent that the person won’t break your heart, but you do know if you don’t trust him, you won’t know real love. You won’t grow. It’s a challenge and it’s not fun, but if you find a person you believe in who believes in you, you can make it.” Pause. “I believe Pete’s that person for you, but you can’t straddle a relationship, part in, part out, waiting for the first sign of him to do something wrong so you can tell him you knew all along it was never going to work. Nate and I went through some really hard times and I know we’ll have more, but I love him and he loves me, and we will never intentionally hurt one another. People say things just happen: the affair just happened, that person just happened, but they don’t. They just don’t.”
Elissa stared at her. She wanted to ask more but all she said was, “I agree.”
Christine nodded. “When there’s a problem, you don’t run to a bar or to another person and tell them your problems. You go home and work it out.”
“I can’t stand that these women are all after him. It’s terrible. I see the way they look at him. They don’t want him to be with someone; they want to be with him. They want him. I see it in their eyes.”
Christine shook her head, sighed. “I know how you feel. When I came to this town, I was the outsider. In many ways, I’ll always be the outsider. Nate had been married and been involved with women I didn’t even know about. I saw the way they looked at him when we walked down the street together, like they shared a history, and no matter how long I was with him, I was never going to be part of that history. I was never going to really know about it. That left me with two choices; I could interrogate him and ask for details that I really didn’t want to know. That choice was out, because once you get those kinds of images in your brain, they don’t leave. Or, I could trust the man I loved. I could believe him when he said he didn’t think of those women; he didn’t even see them anymore; all he saw was me. Should I have made him pay because I didn’t meet him sooner?” She paused, took a deep breath. “He’s not the person he was back then; neither am I. There will always be women who will want to see you fail. They’ll be jealous, they’ll think they deserve whatever you have, and they’ll try to take it. So, you can trust the man you love, live your life with him, and build your own memories, or you can demand the details, follow him, interrogate him, and you’ll always live waiting for the next threat.”
Elissa swiped at her cheeks. “I don’t want to live like that.”
“I’m glad because it’s not healthy, but if you can’t trust him, you shouldn’t marry him. I’m not talking about a close-your-eyes-blind-don’t-want-to-know trust. But if you marry him, you make a commitment that says no matter what, you’re not going to jeopardize what you share.”
“Is that what happened to your parents?”
Christine shook her head. “Somewhere along the way their love died. My mother stopped living for herself. She tried so hard to become what she thought my father wanted, that she grew resentful and ended up a needy, jealous, vindictive woman.”
Elissa sniffed. “I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to the people in this town.”
Christine squeezed her hand, offered a gentle smile. “You’ve got to forgive yourself or you won’t be able to move on. Pete is a great guy and when I look at him, I see honor. Don’t throw that away, Elissa, but if you can’t get past this, you need to let him go.”
The ache in Elissa’s heart consumed her. She’d always been so trusting and now the man she should trust was the man she couldn’t trust? What was wrong with her? Was she willing to give him up? Christine’s words scorched her brain. …if you can’t get past this, you need to let him go. This was not at all about Pete. This was about her, Elissa Cerdi. She’d once thought happiness meant being with the man you loved, children, and a career that brought meaning to your existence. She’d believed she’d find the perfect mate, they’d fall in love, share children and a life without challenges, doubt, or fear.
But maybe she’d gotten it all wrong. Maybe happiness was the day-to-day process of conviction, joy, struggle, hope. And maybe if you didn’t give up, if you believed in each other, you’d find that happiness.
When Elissa left Christine’s, she drove to the cabin where she and Pete had gotten to know each other, fallen in love, and planned a future together. She’d purchased the place because she couldn’t imagine anyone else living in it and hoped that one day she and Pete would bring their children here.
Life would be good.
Elissa spent two days at the cabin, away from the noise and confusion that threatened to steal her logic and dreams. She sat in the backyard and remembered every moment she’d spent there with Pete. The breakfasts he’d fixed her, the conversations they’d had, the moments of lovemaking, some bittersweet, some filled with hope and promise. He hadn’t been honest with her then, but she hadn’t been honest with him either. That had almost ruined them, and yet when they opened up and shared with each other, they found a way to get through it, grow stronger, and pledge their love.
Was she really going to give him up because she wanted a 100 percent guarantee because people weren’t nice to her, because they wanted her to pay for what she’d done even though she’d never meant to harm anyone? She needed to talk to one more person; he would have the answers; he would guide her. Because Pop Benito knew people, knew about love, and knew how to read between the lines to get to the heart of the matter.
* * *
“Excuse me, are you Grace Clarke?”
Grace looked up from the article in the Magdalena Press she’d been reading about the Reeds trip to Maine. The woman standing next to the booth was in her late twenties, dark-haired, light complexion, very attractive. “Yes, I’m Grace.”
A nod, a slip of a smile. “I thought so.” She lowered her voice, leaned toward her. “Pop Benito told me all about you.” The voice dipped further. “He said you’re staying at your aunt’s house with your old boyfriend for thirty days. Some kind of request your aunt made on her deathbed. That is so sweet and so sad.” She paused, her hazel eyes bright. “It sounds like your aunt thought you and your boyfriend belonged together, and she was going to find a way to make that happen.”
“Who are you and who’s Pop Benito?” Grace stared at the young woman as anger and frustration took over before the woman could answer. “And you can tell whoever’s spreading those rumors that whatever my aunt did is none of
their business and I want them to stop spreading lies.”
“Oh.” The woman cleared her throat, clasped her hands in front of her. “So, Max Ruhland wasn’t your boyfriend and you aren’t staying in the same house with him?”
Grace ignored the questions, narrowed her gaze. “Who are you?”
“Elissa Cerdi.” She thrust her hand out and waited for Grace to shake it. “I’m sorry if I sound nosy, but it’s a fascinating story and I’m really rooting for you.” Her voice spilled sadness. “I’m having a tough time believing in happily-ever-after right now, and Pop was just trying to cheer me up. He never said you and Max were getting back together…that was all me.” More sadness. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” She lifted a shoulder, tried for a smile that flopped. “I was just hoping, that’s all.”
Something was obviously wrong, and Grace bet it had to do with a man. She knew all about trouble with men. You could think you were doing everything right, but maybe it wasn’t enough, or maybe it was too much, or maybe it didn’t matter what you did, the relationship was going to implode. Right on top of you. And then what? You were left to pick up the fragments if you could find them, and if you could figure out what to do with them.
Had this woman’s relationship already imploded, or was it on the way? Despite how the conversation started, Grace felt sorry for her because she’d been that woman…and it had been horrible. Grant had left her with a pack of lies that would never get sorted or truly understood. Damn that man for dying before she could get her answers. Still, no matter what he told her, would she have believed him? Hadn’t they been through this before with Lisette, and hadn’t she remade herself to please him, to keep him from straying again? I know I can be enough for you, Grant. Just give us a chance. We belong together. We’re a family. Such desperation, such pitiful groveling, and it hadn’t done any good because Grant Clarke wanted a wife and he wanted a girlfriend, and the man was just arrogant enough to believe he could have both.