Before he could thank her for the insight, she continued. “Like I said, your father has his wonderful traits. You know I love him dearly.”
He could feel the “but” coming, and he wasn’t disappointed.
“But your father can be a stubborn ass.”
He blinked in surprise before letting his head fall back in the first genuine laugh since he’d walked away from Tamara.
Shaking her head, Elena fixed him with another fierce glare. “Sometimes that man is stubborn to the point of blindness. Though I think lately he’s finally started to open his eyes and see what’s right in front of his face.” She reached over and took his hand. “Like how you grew up to be a loving, loyal son. One that any woman would be lucky to have at her side.”
“Tamara doesn’t think so.” The words were difficult to get out. It had been hard enough to hear, but to admit it aloud was torture.
Elena’s gaze turned mildly pitying. “Oh darling, Tamara has been through quite a lot these past few weeks. She’s not thinking clearly.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know that’s true.” Staring at the glass in his hand, he forced himself to admit the truth. “She might be right. There’s always a chance that I’ll hurt her and—”
Elena’s irritated sigh cut him off. “This is exactly what I mean. You didn’t inherit your mother’s fickle ways. If anything, you’ve gotten your father’s stubborn streak. You’ve clung to his fears as if they were your own. Even though they’re not true and you know it.” She leaned over the table. “If you let that old way of thinking interfere with what might be the best thing to ever happen to you…” She paused as if waiting for a response.
The best thing that had ever happened to him? His mind flashed on Tamara’s kind eyes, her mischievous smile, the way she’d opened up to him and trusted him and put her faith in him…like he deserved it. He looked up and nodded. Yeah, she was definitely the best thing in his world.
Elena’s lips twitched up in a knowing smile before she forced another scowl. “If you let her push you away without a fight, you’re stupider than you look.”
But when he opened his mouth, fear spoke. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
Some of the gut-wrenching fear must have been clear in his expression, because Elena’s look softened. “Oh, Gregory. You really are your father’s son. You and he both get an idea in your head and you stick to it.” She patted his hand. “Even when you’re wrong.”
The hope that she was right was painful. Because what if she was wrong? If he could convince Tamara to give him a second chance, he couldn’t go through the heartbreak of walking away again. If she gave him another chance, she would be stuck with him, flaws and all.
Once again, Elena seemed to know what he was thinking. Leaning back in her seat, she folded her hands primly in front of her. “I know you worry about Tamara, but she’s a big girl and she’s stronger than you give her credit for.”
“I know she’s strong,” he argued.
She raised one brow. “Do you? If you did, you wouldn’t try to protect her—you would fight for her. Prove to her that she’s wrong and that you belong together.”
And if her heart said that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her… He couldn’t let himself hope that was true. For all he knew she had moved on. “I—I—” He looked up to see an amused Elena trying not to laugh at him.
“Yes, dear?”
“I’ve been an idiot.”
Her smile was gracious. “I know, dear.”
“What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to fight for her, of course.”
* * * *
Tamara lay by the indoor pool, Marc next to her. They had cocktails in hand, despite the fact that it was only noon. But, as Marc pointed out—reuniting with family was as good of an excuse to drink as any.
Besides, she’d earned it. Over the last few days she’d had a tear-filled heart-to-heart with her parents and her older brother—one that was long overdue. But maybe the time had helped in a way. The bitterness and anger she’d felt so strongly six years ago had faded, and she found she was able to talk to her parents about how she’d felt back then with a perspective that kept the conversation from turning accusatory.
Apologizing had been the hardest part. She’d seen with her own eyes how much they’d aged over the past six years, and she knew she’d added to their worry and pain in a way she could never make up for. But saying the words I’m sorry had been a good start.
“Sweetheart, when you said you came from a wealthy family, you were being modest.” Marc took a sip of his margarita and adjusted the sunlamp that was giving them the illusion of being on vacation somewhere warm and not in her parents’ pool house in the middle of winter.
She shrugged. “I guess I forgot just how rich they are. I mean, I kind of took it for granted, I suppose.” Glancing over at Marc, she added, “You know, before I had to pay my own way in Manhattan and all.”
Marc laughed. “Mmm, that’s quite the reality check for a spoiled little rich girl.”
She gave him a smile that almost felt genuine. If it wasn’t for the ache in the area where her heart used to be, she would have said she was happy. The drink was celebratory, since overall the reunion had gone well. Better than anticipated.
Marc raised his glass to hers. “Here’s to you kicking Billy Braden’s ass last night.” He clinked his glass against hers as she giggled. “Metaphorically, of course.”
“Of course,” she repeated. She hadn’t really kicked his ass, but she’d come pretty damn close. In an effort to make amends and forge a new bond with her family, she’d agreed to tag along to one of the charity events they loved so much. Her brother had gone back home, but Marc tagged along as their fourth wheel and Tamara’s personal cheerleader.
Billy had been there, looking bloated and more miserable than ever. It was funny—if someone had asked her just weeks ago, she would have said having to face her ex was one of her greatest fears. But when he was standing right in front of her it wasn’t fear she felt. There was revulsion, contempt, maybe a little leftover hatred, but the emotion wasn’t nearly as all-consuming as it once was. There was a mix of emotions, but none of them was fear.
His eyes lit up when he spotted her, and before her parents or Marc could intervene, he was at her side. “Tammy, good to see you.”
He sounded…pathetic. Too eager, too fake. His nice guy act was so transparent it was almost funny. Almost. She couldn’t bring herself to smile, let alone laugh. She’d looked him up and down, taking in the little things that made him so very human, not at all the terrifying figure she’d made him out to be in her mind’s eye.
She felt her parents tense beside her, but her mother put a supportive hand on her shoulder as her father made a move to step in front of her and shield her. Years ago she would have been grateful, but now? She didn’t need it. She gently moved her father aside as she stared up at her ex.
She wasn’t worried about embarrassing her family, but this man didn’t deserve a scene, and that was exactly what the gossips in this crowd expected. He didn’t deserve to see her true emotions…. He didn’t deserve anything from her.
“Billy,” she said quietly, calmly. She thrust her shoulders back and summoned her best Ingrid Bergman impersonation. “We didn’t expect to see you here.”
Maybe it was her confidence, or her utter lack of excitement at seeing him, but a familiar nasty smirk replaced his friendly grin, and he moved closer and dropped his voice so only she could hear. “Yeah, I’m surprised to see you, too. I heard they were keeping you locked up these days.”
Years ago, he might have intimidated. Now, he just pissed her off. But again, she reminded herself that this man wasn’t worthy of a scene. His words couldn’t hurt her anymore, and there was no way in hell she’d allow herself to be in a position where he could hurt her physically. With
that thought, she leaned in closer and kept her voice soft and even.
“You heard wrong, Billy. I’m a changed woman. I left the institution years ago a far healthier and happier woman, thanks largely in part to the help I got there.”
He blinked at her in surprise, and she couldn’t resist adding, “And the fact that I’d finally gotten you out of my life once and for all was the best change of all.”
He opened his mouth as if to retort, but nothing came out. He never had been terribly clever. As far as she was concerned, this conversation was done. He’d been out of her life for ages, and she was more than ready to let go of the memories and pain as well. She looked through him as though he were invisible and walked past him without a second look.
As far as encounters went, it wasn’t exactly dramatic, but it felt damn good to walk away with her head held high. If only Gregory had been here to see it.
That thought rang out clear as day as she walked away from Billy, and it kept coming back to her throughout the night and all morning. She’d had her epic run-in with Billy and she’d walked away unscathed, feeling stronger than ever. But it didn’t seem to matter because nothing seemed to matter without Gregory to share it with. After all, he’d been the one to push her out of her shell of a life. He’d made her face her demons. She had him to thank for her newfound confidence…but she couldn’t. Because she’d pushed him away.
As she walked away, her confidence was high but her chest felt hollow. All this time she’d been so afraid of Billy—that fear had followed her everywhere, even into her new life. But that fear had been baseless. She’d been afraid of ghosts and shadows. The fear had taken on a life of its own, probably because she’d never properly dealt with it.
Seeing Billy hadn’t magically erased that fear. The fear had disappeared a long time ago as she’d built her new life, as she’d reinvented herself at The Ellen and among her new friends. As she’d faced her past by telling her story to Gregory in the dark of her apartment.
“We didn’t expect to see you here.” Marc imitated her imitating Ingrid Bergman as he sipped his drink, his eyes narrowed dramatically, making her laugh. He fell back against his seat. “God, I’ll never get tired of replaying that scene. I can’t wait to get back to New York so I can tell the crew all about it.”
Now that several days had passed, she and Marc were starting to find a bit of a rhythm with their kinda-sorta vacation, and Tamara was actually sorry to be saying goodbye again. But this time, not for long. Her parents and her brother had already made plans to visit her in the city the following month.
“Can’t you leave me here?” Marc asked. “I mean, I could play the part of the dutiful daughter if it means getting to live in the lap of luxury for the rest of my days.”
Tamara laughed, and Marc glanced over with a grin. “It’s nice to see you like this.”
“Like what?” she asked, even though she was fairly certain she knew the answer.
“Happy,” he said, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. “You seem…lighter. Like you’ve stopped carrying a massive burden.”
Tamara gave another laugh, this one breathless with wonder. “You know, that’s exactly how it feels. Talking to my parents about all that crap that went down…it feels like I unloaded a giant weight off my shoulders.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “I can breathe again.”
They sat in companionable silence as Tamara reveled in the new sensation. Sitting there sipping a margarita with her best friend, with the secrets and burdens of her past laid to rest…life was perfect.
Almost.
It would have been perfect if her heart wasn’t broken. What a stupid phrase. Broken heart did nothing to describe the pain, the emptiness. It didn’t explain how nothing in her world felt right.
And it wasn’t just the pain of the broken heart that had her stewing when she should have been celebrating. It was the fact that it felt so wrong.
Not having Gregory in her life was wrong.
She sat up straight, adrenaline rushing through her as the missing pieces clicked into place and she finally listened to what her heart had been trying to tell her. Not having Gregory in her life was wrong. Not having the love she deserved was wrong. Closing herself off from love to avoid making another mistake…wrong, wrong, wrong.
Gregory fit into the missing piece of her heart; he made her whole. So why was she letting him walk away?
She didn’t realize she’d gasped until Marc sat up too and looked over at her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, staring unseeing at the pool. Then she shook her head. “No, not really. I made a mistake.”
Marc waited patiently.
Finally she looked over at him with wide eyes. “I shouldn’t have let him walk away.”
Her best friend raised his brows in a look that said “tell me something I don’t know,” but he didn’t say anything.
Slumping back in her chair, she groaned as she thought about their last encounter. Why had she turned him away? Why hadn’t she fought for him?
Because she’d been scared, that was why. Scared of being hurt again. More than that, she hadn’t been able to trust herself. If she’d learned anything over the past few days with her family it was that what hurt most about that awful time in her life hadn’t been their lack of trust in her—it had been her inability to trust herself.
“How do I start trusting myself again?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
Luckily Marc seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. “Oh, my little buttercup,” he said with a sigh, “I don’t think it’s something you can turn on and off with a light switch. If you want to start trusting yourself again, you have to dive in headfirst.” He pointed to the pool. “Jump right into the deep end, girl, with no floaties and no life preserver.”
They both stared at the pool for a moment before Tamara finally spoke. “You’re right.” There was no easy way out. There was no running away, not this time. If she learned anything from this homecoming, it was that running hadn’t solved her problems. It might have given her perspective, but the only way to deal with a fear was to face it head-on. Life was giving her a second chance to face her fears. She was getting a second chance—or maybe a first chance—at love, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let it go. Not without a fight.
Swallowing the fear that threatened to strangle her, she turned to him. “So…how do I show Gregory that we’re worth fighting for?”
Chapter 14
Tamara hovered near the exit of the theater. “Have I mentioned that I hate parties?”
Alice, the organizer for the bachelor auction, patted her arm. “Relax, you’re going to do great.”
Marc stood on her other side, and his sympathy was nowhere to be found. “Who are you trying to fool, princess?” He’d been calling her princess ever since he saw her childhood home. “You have gone to several parties, and you are knocking it out of the park. Do I need to remind you of how you put that ass of an ex in his place?”
A smile tugged at her lips at that memory. It had been thoroughly satisfying to see that man and realize that he had no power over her anymore. Face to face, she’d seen exactly how weak he was—how weak he’d always been. It was that weakness that had led him to bully her. And while she couldn’t bring herself to forgive him or even pity him, for that matter, some of the anger and pain receded at the pathetic sight. Seeing him in person had made it clear that he was just a bad story from her past—there was no way he could ever have power over her now. Not when she was strong and knew her own mind, not to mention was surrounded by people who loved her.
And Marc had a point about her recent stint of parties. First Gregory’s parents’ party, then all the social engagements her parents had dragged her along to. While she’d never been thoroughly relaxed at any of them, she had gotten her anxiety issues under control.
<
br /> But this was different—this was in another ballpark entirely.
She heard Alice’s new boyfriend, Nicholas, approach and ask Alice, “Is she okay? She looks like she’s going to be sick.”
“She’ll be fine,” Marc and Alice said in unison.
Tamara attempted a smile despite the churning pit in her stomach. “Glad to know you guys have confidence in me.”
“Always,” Alice said.
“You’ve got this, girl.” Marc threw an arm over her shoulder and steered her none too gently toward the bar in the center of the lobby. Aside from the fact that she was wearing a simple cocktail dress and not a costume, this night felt way too much like the night she’d met Gregory. Or met him again, rather.
And tonight? Tonight would be the night she threw it all out there. Tonight would decide if she and Gregory had a future.
Right. No pressure.
Just then her phone dinged with a text from Caitlyn, who was in the theater area helping corral the bachelors.
He’s here.
She breathed a sigh of relief even though her nerves grew more frayed by the second. A little part of her had been worried he would bail on the fundraiser, even though it was for a good cause and would benefit the theater. But no, he was here. Which meant she was really doing this.
“Are you sure there isn’t another way?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.
“This was your idea,” Marc reminded her. They’d reached the bar, and he turned to her with a look of concern. “Do you need a drink?”
She shook her head. Tempting as it was to down some liquid courage, she needed to be fully present tonight. There was no softening this or making it easier. She was going to put herself out there for him, and she would do it stone cold sober.
But this was what had to be done, she reminded herself. She’d spent too long expecting others to fight on her behalf and be strong for her. It was time she fought for herself—for what she wanted. She needed to prove to Gregory—and to herself, if she was being honest—that she was well and truly rid of her ghosts. That she was strong and didn’t need him to protect her, especially not from his love.
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