She moved toward him, her black dress swaying across her hips as she walked. The fine material dipped in a V at her neckline and exposed her shoulders, a style she almost never wore. But she wanted to feel elegant and beautiful tonight.
“Wow, you look . . .” Ben paused, his eyes trailing a line down her face. “There are no words.” He took a step closer and touched the same blonde strand she now had twisted around her finger. “You should wear your hair down more often. It’s stunning.”
Her hair was thick and long, reaching to her waist. In Georgia, that meant braids and clips and ponytails pretty much year-round.
“Thank you,” she swallowed, her nerves making every word feel stretched.
Taking a rare initiative, she raised up onto the toes of her high heels and eagerly pressed her lips to his. A rush of warmth spread through her, an invigorating curl of happiness. This was the life she wanted.
Chad coming home didn’t change anything.
When she pulled away, Ben’s hand cupped the back of her head, though disbelief flickered across his face. “You’re full of all kinds of surprises tonight.”
She beamed at the sight of his small but genuine smile and lowered her heels back to the ground. “I’m happy to see you. And feeling a little pampered.”
“It’s our semianniversary. You should be pampered.” His warm hand embraced hers, smooth and soft, so different from Chad’s rough fingers.
“Two for Gates,” he told the hostess.
The woman moved quickly and with practiced ease. Arm poised around two hardbound menus, she smiled brightly and requested they follow her. Her sharp stilettos clicked against the marble floors, but Laila was too overwhelmed with the sheer elegance of the dining area to pay much attention to the beat. Large crystal chandeliers hung every five or six feet across a checkered, molded ceiling with hand-painted inlays. The lights were dim, and on each table flickered a votive candle nestled within a red-and-cream blown-glass casing.
Her treacherous mind returned to the past. To homemade sandwiches and tall glasses of milk, and if the money wasn’t supertight that week, to fried chicken from Lucy’s. Nothing about Laila and Chad had ever been fancy or decadent. They’d had love and each other, which had been enough, until . . . all of a sudden, it hadn’t.
The hostess stopped at a reserved table in the back, and Laila forced herself to return to the present and the wonderful man who’d so carefully picked out this restaurant for her. Tucked into an alcove, the small rectangular booth featured a wall for seating on one side and two large windows on the other. Diners were granted a view of Brunswick’s historic downtown, the light of its buildings shining like bright stars.
Ben moved to the side, allowing Laila to slide across the seat, holding her dress down as she scooted over. A second later, he was next to her. They sat thigh against thigh, and ever so subtly, she pressed closer, wanting to snuggle into the crook of his arm and the safety of his touch. His hand automatically found her back, rubbing up and down, but the tilt of his head and press of his eyebrows reflected the same curiosity as earlier. He wasn’t used to this kind of affection from her. But that would all change. She’d been holding back, waiting on something . . . who knows what. But now she was fully ready to give all of herself to this relationship.
The hostess picked up the extra place settings and turned their glasses over. “Would you like to see a wine list this evening?”
“No thanks,” Ben answered with an ease that once again reassured her that he was the right choice. “Just water for now.”
The woman left with a nod, and Ben shifted, looking at Laila with eyes that promised sonnets and roses. She’d never noticed their depth before. Light brown with a circle of green around the edge.
“And to think I almost missed you like this,” he said, and she felt his fingers tunnel through her hair, caressing the pieces like fine artwork. “Remind me to always take you out of town to fancy restaurants.”
“What do you mean?” She smiled, but a hint of unease crept up her spine.
“I don’t know. You’re different.” She withdrew slightly, and he tickled the tender skin on the nape of her neck. “I’m not complaining, by any means.”
“Okay. Good.” She leaned back in and took his other hand in both of hers, squeezing tightly. “Because I’m so excited about our trip.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely. Does Caden like water slides? I’ve been doing some research the last couple of days, and there’s a great waterpark not too far from the beach house. And there’s also a sea turtle center and plenty of parks.”
“Slow down.” He lifted his hand from her grip and gently slid aside a piece of hair that had slipped in front of her eye. “This is the first time you two will spend a significant amount of time together. We should probably let you ease into that kind of exhaustion.”
“But I want everything to be perfect.”
“It’s sand and water. To a six-year-old, that is perfect.”
She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling silly. “I guess I’m nervous. This is important for us. A step forward and I’m ready to take it. I wish we were leaving tomorrow, in fact.”
He shifted away slightly, his earlier curiosity turning to skepticism. “Laila, are you sure everything is okay with you tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” But her tone wasn’t believable, even to her own ears.
The waiter’s approach gave her a minute to do some deep breathing exercises. The man held himself like a regal gentleman in dark pants and a crisp white button-up shirt. He gracefully detailed the chef’s specials while offering suggestions on which cuts of meat were the restaurant’s best.
“That all sounds delicious.” Ben shifted his focus to her. “Do you know what you want?”
“Um, sure. The filet sounds good. The small one.” She closed her menu, answered more questions on how she wanted her meat cooked and what sides she wanted.
Ben ordered the bone-in rib eye, his eyes bright and eager, and suddenly she wished she’d never have to tell him about Chad.
“Very good. I’ll check back in a minute.” The waiter dipped his chin and collected their menus.
“I love this place,” Ben said with a satisfied smile. His fingers trailed up her arm, rubbing small circles on her bare shoulders. Goose bumps prickled where his touch had been, and she twisted the napkin in her lap, once again shoving down the conversation she knew she needed to have. His fingers stilled. “Seriously, Laila, what is going on? A minute ago, you were bouncing out of your chair. Now you look like a petrified puppy.”
Her plan was to casually mention Chad’s blowing into town over dessert, after she’d sufficiently proven to Ben that she was all in. One hundred and ten percent committed. Unfortunately, not only had her tactics backfired, but she could sense Ben’s growing irritation.
She offered him a weak smile. “I wanted to wait until the end of the evening to mention this, but you’re becoming far too adept at reading me.”
“You think? I feel like I’m chasing a moving vehicle half the time.” His thumb brushed her fidgeting fingers, the touch gentle and kind. “You’re by far the most complicated woman I’ve ever known.”
She lowered her head, feeling a twinge of regret. She hadn’t meant to be a challenge. She so wished she’d been able to jump in like Ben had, with no doubts or reservations. And how did she explain that she was ready to now, when all evidence pointed to her feelings being corrupted by the sudden appearance of her ex-husband.
“Chad returned to Fairfield two days ago, and I know that seems like a big deal. But it’s not. Or at least I don’t want it to be. Not between us.”
His eyes widened as he processed the information. “I thought you said he was completely out of your life?”
“He was . . . is. Unfortunately, Fairfield is a town with a very long grapevine. One that apparently reaches all the way to Atlanta.” Regret immediately followed when Ben’s shoulder’s stiffened. Her intent was never to blame
him, even if his unscheduled visit to Joe’s a week ago had started this unfortunate chain reaction.
“So Joe learns you have a boyfriend, and suddenly your long-lost ex-husband strolls into town? Do you have any idea how messed up that is?”
“Joe isn’t the one who called him.” She shook her head when his eyes practically screamed that she was in denial. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I’m here and you’re here, and we have a fabulous dinner on the way.”
“What is he asking of you?” Ben waited for her answer, his usual calm now strained and grim. He’d been through a bitter divorce. He knew the dynamics that came with a less-than-civil history. “He obviously came back for a reason.”
For a fraction of a second, she considered withholding the truth, but that would only make her like Chad. She hadn’t wanted that kind of relationship back then and certainly didn’t now. “He wants to reconcile. He claims he’s been sober for nine months and that all the drinking and drugs are behind him.”
Ben fell back against the booth, his breath coming out in a shocked whoosh.
She tried not to let it panic her, the way he’d shifted away like any point of contact was unwelcome. “Ben . . . what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we should have had this conversation two days ago.” He eyed her with a distrust that mirrored the night at Joe’s. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t know. I was still processing it all.”
“And tonight?” Suspicion colored every word. “The dress? The hair? Your eagerness to rush into next weekend? Are you telling me all of it has nothing to do with him?”
A wave of guilt slammed into her so fiercely, her only counterattack was anger. “How am I the one on trial here? Chad showed up on my doorstep. I didn’t ask for it and I didn’t want it. Maybe it’s not my baggage that’s the issue here. Maybe it’s yours.”
His shoulders drooped in a show of defeat so severe it made her curse her upbringing. She hadn’t been taught decorum and restraint. She’d been taught to survive, to fight back when cornered, to hurt those who hurt her.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said—” she started.
“No . . . it’s true. Trust doesn’t come easy for me.” He squeezed her hand, but she still wanted to apologize profusely. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. They were supposed to make plans and laugh and confirm that her decision to move was the absolute right one.
The waiter returned with their appetizer, although the earlier joy had been stripped from Ben’s eyes and replaced with a palpable friction.
She tried moving closer. “What can I say to make you feel better?” There had to be a way to mend their sudden rift.
“I’m not upset with you. I know his coming home isn’t want you wanted.” He placed a hand on her leg as if to reassure them both. “But at the same time, I don’t think us running off to the beach together is the best idea either. You need to close this chapter with him before we can move forward.”
“It is closed. I promise.” She pleaded with her eyes, but she could tell he had no plans to relent.
“I hope so.” He kissed her, but it was sharp and quick. “Come on. Let’s enjoy our meal.”
“Okay.” She ran a hand across the back of his jacket, hoping her touch would make all his unease go away.
It only seemed to make it worse.
CHAPTER 15
Chad’s sneakers methodically pounded the pavement as he hit mile five on his morning run. He’d never been the type to work out, figured it was for those with far too much vanity and time. Now the sweat and endorphins were a necessity almost as critical as the AA meetings he’d attended in Atlanta.
The road stretched in front of him, long and winding, and he tried to ignore the hammering of his heart as he counted the landmarks leading up to his old house. Two blooming dogwoods, a battered red mailbox, and the pink crepe myrtle Laila planted for the child she’d lost just a week after the stick turned blue. They’d only been married two years and weren’t trying for kids, but the miscarriage wrecked them all the same. Laila withdrew, and he found solace in the bottle, a cycle that only worsened after his mom passed away a few months later.
Cooper had been right. Laila needed to deal with him, not send him away or pretend she no longer loved him. They’d spent the last year of their marriage tiptoeing around the issues, ignoring the pain in whatever way they could. Not anymore. He wouldn’t let the denial continue.
Chad’s footsteps slowed as the trees thinned out, and he came to a halt near the pothole at the edge of the driveway. With a turn, his legs moved quicker, more deliberately. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that Laila would happily welcome him this early on a Sunday, but her car had been gone last night when he’d come by, and she had said he should get his stuff. His choosing to do it without a shirt on was just a bonus.
The house appeared seconds later, a dark silhouette against the morning sun. He glanced at the small tilled garden. Laila had planted flowers like she always did in the spring. Pinks, purples, yellows, they all blended together among green bushes and ivy vines that covered the front of their porch. He’d missed it. Missed it so much that he had to stop walking just to keep his body from trembling.
Taking another calming breath, Chad continued toward the front door, but one glance to the oil stain where Laila’s car should have been and his steps faltered. It was before nine on a Sunday morning. She should be here. Unless . . .
She didn’t come home last night.
The runaway thought chilled his blood. As much as she’d changed, as damaged as their relationship was, he still knew a small piece of her heart. She wouldn’t go there with another man. Not after their conversation and all he’d told her about his journey over the last nine months.
Unless she did it to hurt you.
His knees felt like they would buckle any second, but he refused to go down. There had to be another explanation.
Forcing himself to turn away from the emptiness, Chad took off with a speed he didn’t know existed, running out every tear he refused to shed. He wouldn’t accept that she’d taken that final step.
Screw the judge, the law, and everything else. She was his wife. End of story.
Cooper’s red front door appeared sooner than he wanted. He hadn’t run out the emotions yet. Hadn’t even begun to process the sight of their empty house. But he’d already gone seven miles without water, and he didn’t feel like passing out either.
The screen door slammed as he entered, the fury refusing to subside.
“Whoa, killer. You’re gonna make me feel lazy,” Cooper said with barely a glance in Chad’s direction. He sat on the couch, his feet propped up on the farthest cushion, the TV tuned to SportsCenter. “How many days a week do you run?”
Chad pulled on the refrigerator handle, the force rattling the condiment bottles tucked in the door, and grabbed a sports drink. “Every day. Sometimes twice if it’s an especially hard one.” Today would be a double-run day for sure.
“An outlet is good. Healthy.” Cooper swung his feet off the couch and stretched when he stood. “But if there is a time when you don’t want to Tom and Jerry it all over town, here’s something that goes a little faster.” He snatched a set of keys from the coffee table and tossed them to Chad.
On instinct alone, Chad caught the set and stared down at the old Chevy symbol etched into the key. “What’s this?”
Cooper grinned, an action Chad found just as unnerving as he did unusual, coming from his old friend. “Betsy. I didn’t have the heart to sell her when I got Big Blue out there.”
Chad welcomed his sudden chuckle. Betsy was a 2500 Silverado that had at least two hundred thousand miles on her, leaked more oil than an offshore rig, and spent more time in the shop than most mechanics. But on the outside, she was a pristine maroon beauty that Cooper had been babying since Chad first met him.
“You’d really let me drive Betsy?” He stared at the keys, then up at hi
s new roommate. “Your truck? Your baby?”
Cooper only shrugged. “You’re gonna need some wheels if you stay here, and she’s just sitting out back anyway.”
Chad clenched the keys in his hand, felt the rage slip away without complaint. “Thanks, man.”
“It’s no big deal.” But it was a big deal. Everything Cooper had done over the last couple of days had been a big deal.
Chad hadn’t planned to discuss Katie with him, but now his silence felt like a betrayal. He didn’t have many friends left, and if time had taught him any lesson, it was to value the ones worth having. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.” Cooper sat back down and muted the TV. “You mind putting a shirt on before this little heart-to-heart? I like you, but not that much.”
Chad downed the rest of his drink and tossed the bottle into the trash on his way to the hallway. The shirt he’d worn yesterday lay crumpled on his bedroom floor, and he threw it over his sweaty torso before walking back to the living room.
“Does this appease your delicate sensibilities?”
“What can I say? Betsy’s a jealous girl.” Again, the man smirked, and Chad hated that he was about to wipe the grin right off his face.
“Speaking of jealous girls . . .” He lowered himself to the chair across from his buddy. “I wanted you to know, I’m going to see Katie today.”
As expected, Cooper’s entire body stiffened, and his mouth turned into a tight, thin line. “Why are you telling me? She’s married. I’m not her keeper anymore. Or yours, for that matter.” A creature of pride, even now, with pain splashed all over his face.
“I’m telling you out of respect. I’d want to know if you were going to see Laila.” And he would, but his declaration was more than just a courtesy. Chad saw how badly Katie had wrecked his friend.
“She won’t be home on a Sunday.” Cooper scratched his head and rolled his shoulders, but the tension didn’t seem to ease any. “That’s part of the new good-girl manual. Church, then lunch with the in-laws. It’s all very sugary in her world now.”
My Unexpected Hope Page 10