“Me too.”
“I’ll look at flights as soon as we hang up.”
“Awesome.” I yawn. “I’m taking a nap as soon as we hang up.”
Isabelle laughs. “Good for you, Mama. Get that shut eye while you still can.”
Hanging up, I reach toward the Target bag on the floor. My mom insisted on buying a gender neutral lamb onesie. She said it would help me get excited about this whole baby thing and forget about Hudson for a while. I kind of feel like her logic is a little faulty there, but it is freaking adorable.
I run my fingers over the fuzzy lamb wool and the cashmere soft fabric before bringing it to my cheek. Eyes closed, I drift away, seeking temporary refuge from the shit storm that has become my life.
Chapter 36
Hudson
I don’t expect to be greeted with open arms—or a smile for that matter. But the look on Abel’s face when he opens the door sends a chill down my spine.
“Hudson.” He steps outside, pulling the front door closed behind him. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to speak to Mari.”
His arms fold across his barrel chest. “I’m sorry. I can’t allow that.”
I half-chuckle. “You can’t allow that? She’s a grown woman. I wanted to apologize to her in person. I came all this way because that’s how much she means to me.”
“I’m sorry, Hudson. I’m sure she means a lot to you, but she’s my daughter, and she means a lot to me too,” he says. “You broke your promise to me. You said you wouldn’t hurt her, but you did. For that reason alone, I can’t let you see her. Plus, you lied to me. You came here saying you were in love with my daughter and you wanted to marry her. Turns out you were just using her.”
“I respect your feelings, Abel, and you’re not incorrect. You have every reason to despise me and everything about me,” I say. “But please, if I could just see her for a minute. I just want to apologize, and then I’ll never bother her again.”
Abel’s mouth forms a hard line and he pushes an impatient breath through his bulbous nose.
“Look,” I say. “I’ve never been good at taking ‘no’ for an answer, and that’s what got the two of us into this mess in the first place. I’m trying to make things right.”
“I appreciate persistence, Hudson.” Abel cocks his head. “But I’ve got a hell of a lot more of it than you. I can go all night with you if you want, but I’m still not letting you see my daughter. Now, stop wasting my time and yours. Go back to the city where you belong. We don’t share your values. Not here.”
“Fair enough.” I sigh, never feeling so defeated in my life. “Can you just tell her I’m not mad at her, and I never had a right to be?”
He says nothing, but the answer resides in his cold, unfeeling gaze.
Turning to leave, I climb back into my rental car and pull out of the Collins’ driveway, heading north up the hill we once walked together one balmy spring night.
Passing the Queen Anne and the European Romantic that Mari used to pretend was her castle as a child, I turn the corner and spot a dilapidated Frank Lloyd Wright prairie-style house with a bright red FOR SALE sign in the front yard.
It’s a shame anyone let this masterpiece fall apart like this.
And I can’t, in good faith, leave this historical piece of art to disintegrate even further.
Pulling into the weeded driveway, I take my phone from my pocket. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve dialed the number on the sign.
“Alexa Lowell speaking, First Class Realty,” she says.
Chapter 37
Mari
“You’re getting good at these.” My mom’s friend, Terri, sips the turtle mocha I whipped up a minute ago and pats my shoulder. “Well done. I’ll be in the office if you need anything. You and Jaime have the front, right? Morning rush should be over.”
I’ve been home a week and already my parents lined me up with a job. This is like college all over again, but I’m grateful to have something keeping me busy. Moping around the house and ruminating on everything is only making me feel a thousand times shittier.
The bells on the door jangle and a woman walks in. Jaime calls her by name and asks if she wants “the usual.”
A couple of guys from the phone company walk in next, so I hit the register to take their orders while Jaime fusses with the cappuccino machine.
“Small coffee,” the first one says. “One cream. Two sugars.”
I ring him up and he takes his change, sparing none for the clearly marked tip jar mere inches from him. The second guy orders a large coffee with two shots of espresso, no cream or sugar, and tips two dollars. Just eyeballing the tip jar, I think we’re at somewhere around fifteen bucks for tips, and we’ve been open the last four hours. At this rate, I might be able to buy myself a half tank of gas by tomorrow.
The second man steps away. I’m seconds from grabbing their drinks when I realize there’s a third man. I didn’t see him come in with them, and I must not have heard the bells on the door, but he’s there.
Standing right in front of me.
“Hudson,” I say, feeling the hot flush of my face in real time. I walk away from the cash register and up to Jaime. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I have to deal with something really quick. Can you get the other two orders?”
Jaime’s eyes glide over my shoulders toward Hudson. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just give me a minute.” I storm from around the counter and pull him toward the back of the shop. “Stalking is illegal in all fifty states. Including Nebraska.”
He smirks. “I literally had no idea you worked here. I’m just as shocked as you are.”
Frowning, I say, “Seriously, Hudson? Or is that just another one of your lies?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know,” I say, arms folded. “I know all about Audrina. How you wanted to get back at her. And how you used me to do it.”
His smirk fades.
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s what I thought.”
“I was going to tell you,” he says. “I came to your house last week. Your dad wouldn’t let me in.”
“You did?”
“Yep. He didn’t tell you?”
“No,” I say.
“I didn’t expect him to,” Hudson says. “But I was there. And I fought like hell, but your dad is pretty fucking persistent.”
“That he is.” I don’t let it show, but I’m slightly disappointed that my father kept that from me. Not that I’d have wanted to see Hudson, but it would’ve been nice to know that he flew all the way here just to see me. “Have you been here all this time?”
He shakes his head. “I put an offer on a house last week. Came here today to finish the deal and take possession.”
“You bought a house? In Orchard Hills?”
“I’m restoring a Frank Lloyd Wright house. It’s on that street you liked, the one with all the big houses,” he says.
I know the house he’s talking about.
“The Arthur Feuerstein house,” I say.
“Yeah,” he says. “That’s the one. I’m restoring it, and then when I’m finished, I’ll probably donate it to the local historical society if I can’t find a buyer who’ll appreciate what it means to live in a literal work of art.”
“How noble of you.”
“I don’t expect you to understand how deep my passion for architecture runs,” he says. “But the mocking is completely unnecessary.”
“How long are you going to be here fixing it up? And what about the firm back in New York?” It’s weird asking him questions like we’re on good terms. Nothing has changed. I’m nothing more than curious.
“Six months, give or take?” he says. “And I’m going to divide my time. Every other week until the house is finished.”
Placing my hands on my hips, I decide to get back to business. Lifting my head high, I say, “Okay, well, I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of my way while you’re in town and I’ll stay ou
t of yours.”
“Mari.”
Another customer, an older woman, enters the shop. So much for the end of the morning rush.
“I was hoping we could still talk sometime,” he says, his eyes drinking me in like it could be the last time.
“There’s nothing left to talk about, Hudson.” I look to the lady, watching her huff at the counter. Jaime’s still working on drinks for the guys. “I have to get back to work.”
“You’re angry with me,” he says. “I get that. And you should be. You’re right—I misled you. And you can be as angry as you need to be. But you should know I’m sorry. For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
With that, he turns and leaves. My chest tightens.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
I want to run to him.
I want to kiss him.
I want to slap him.
But I can’t do any of that, so I force a smile on my face and greet the silver-haired lady shooting daggers my way.
Chapter 38
Hudson
“I think we could have the roof done for you by the middle of next week.” A contractor in a faded green t-shirt removes his Royals cap and scratches his brow, squinting toward the house.
“I’d like the estimate in writing by noon tomorrow.”
“Yeah, we can do that.”
Scanning the expansive property, I make a mental note to get an estimate on landscaping next time I’m here. The hedges are overgrown, there’s a dying linden tree in the back yard, and the lawn is peppered with crab grass. This thing’s going to be a sight for sore eyes by the time I’m finished.
About a block away, a woman in black leggings, electric green sneakers, and a neon blue t-shirt strides up the other side of the street, arms swinging and white earbuds dangling down the sides of her face. The closer she gets, the more I’m certain it’s Mari.
“Sorry. Will you excuse me?” I say to the contractor, stepping toward the edge of my yard.
Yep.
It’s her.
She isn’t looking in my direction. At all. And clearly she has no plans to stop and chat.
“Mari,” I call to her as I cross the street.
She glances at me for half a second before redirecting her attention ahead. She doesn’t stop.
“Mari, wait.” I pick up my pace, watching as her shoulders slump and she finally slows to a stop.
Turning on her heel, she yanks her earbuds and places her hands on her hips.
“Yeah?” she asks.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking a walk …”
Our eyes meet, and my stomach twists. Her thick blonde hair is pulled back from her face with the help of an elastic headband, and her blue eyes flash deep and stormy.
I hurt her.
And I hurt her because she liked me.
And she’s still hurting because she still likes me.
“Interesting route,” I say.
Mari rolls her eyes. “You literally bought a house a block away from my parents. Believe me, this isn’t intentional or I’d have stopped and said hi.”
“How long are you going to punish me?” I ask.
She glances away, sighing, and then her eyes flick up to mine. “Punish you?”
“I’m going back to the city tomorrow,” I say. “I’d love to spend a little time with you tonight. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
“Like how you lied to me?”
“I’d like a chance to explain.”
“No, you just want a chance to justify what you did,” she says. “Regardless, I lied to you. You lied to me. The relationship was fake. And now it’s over.”
“You’re oversimplifying it.”
“Am I?” Mari scoffs, dragging her sneaker across the pitted concrete sidewalk before shaking her head and staring into the distance.
“I’m going back to the city tomorrow,” I say. “I’ll be back a week after that. Maybe you need some time. Some space. If you change your mind and you want to talk, I’ll be here.”
She says nothing.
“Even if you don’t want to admit it, Mari, there was something there. I felt it. I know you did too,” I say, moving closer. “If I didn’t believe in the possibility of something amazing, I wouldn’t be standing here, fighting for it. Fighting for us.”
“How noble of you.” She lifts her earbuds and begins to drown me out. She’s heard enough. “Bye, Hudson.”
Chapter 39
Mari
“Buy a vowel!” My dad shouts at the TV, as if the Wheel of Fortune contestants can hear him. “We need vowels. Come on, people.”
“No,” Mom says. “He needs to pick an ‘r.’ Why hasn’t anyone picked ‘r’ yet?”
The contestant lands on $600 and chooses ‘s’ and Vanna strolls across the stage in a glimmering gold gown, tapping four letters as they illuminate.
A blessing in disguise.
I could solve the puzzle now, but I don’t want to ruin it for my parents. They live for this. In fact, there’s a small steno book in the top drawer of the coffee table where they’ve been tallying who guesses the puzzles correctly the most. Last I knew, my mom is up by seven.
“Now what in the world could that be?” Mom leans forward in her chair, as if being a few extra inches closer to the screen could possibly help her.
My dad drags his hand along his bristled jaw, eyes squinting.
Turning my attention to my phone, I take a quiet picture of the TV screen and text it to Isabelle with the caption, “JUST WANTED TO SHOW YOU WHAT YOU’RE MISSING OUT ON HERE.”
She responds immediately with an emoji that’s both laughing and crying, and then the screen turns black and my phone begins to buzz with an incoming call. It’s a weird number, one I’ve never seen before. It looks foreign, and I almost decide not to answer it, but my curiosity gets the better of me.
Sitting up, I clear my throat and press the green button. “Hello?”
The line is quiet for a second, and I pull the phone from my ear to make sure I’m still connected.
“Hello?” I ask again.
“Mari?” A guy’s voice says my name.
“Who is this?” My parents are both staring at me now, but I wave them off and tell them it’s okay. Rising, I leave the living room and stroll down the hall to my room, closing the door behind me.
“It’s Alec.”
I stop in my tracks. Until now, I hadn’t thought about him at all. I’d actually written him off, opting to fill myself with realistic expectations rather than sit around and hope for a miracle that was never going to happen.
“Hi.” I perch myself on the side of my bed, drawing my knees to my chest. It won’t be long until I won’t be able to sit like this anymore.
“How are you?” he asks. “How are you feeling? How’s the baby?”
“Good.” I speak slow and carefully, my inquisitiveness at an all-time peak. “Everything’s good. What’s … going on?”
“I’m in Hong Kong,” he says. “Just woke up actually. Didn’t sleep much last night. Haven’t slept that well since I got here, honestly.”
“Oh. Um. I’m … sorry?”
“Ever since you told me about the baby, I’ve just been thinking about it.” I hear him exhale on the other end, his voice muffled for a moment before the swish of covers fills the receiver. I picture him on the other side of the world, pacing his hotel room. “I feel bad about what I said to you—about asking you to, you know, take care of it. That was cold. I was in shock. That’s no excuse, but anyway, I wanted you to know that I want to be there for you any way I can. Financially or otherwise. I’m sure there’s a lot to work out. Scheduling. Co-parenting. That sort of thing. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. I mean, if that’s okay with you? Maybe you don’t even want me to be a part of this?”
“Alec.” I clear my throat, feeling my lips pull at the corners. I’ve never felt so relieved in my life. “I would love for you to be a part of the baby’s
life, and I would appreciate any help you could give me.”
He exhales. “Oh, good. Thank God. I figured you probably hated me after what I said to you. I was actually prepared for you to hang up on me.”
“No, no. I wouldn’t do that.” I slide back on the bed, pressing my back against the headboard. A weightless calm washes over me, like the feeling that everything’s probably going to be all right.
“I’m supposed to be in Hong Kong for the next six months,” he says. “But I was thinking maybe I’d come back sometime in the next week or two so we could talk about everything in person?”
“I’m in Nebraska,” I say. “Just so you know, I’m not in the city anymore. But you’re welcome to come here. I imagine my parents might want to meet you, you know, since we’re going to be family.”
God, it’s so weird to think of it like that.
Alec Sheffield, my Tinder hook up, is going to be family.
I place my hand on my lower belly, grateful that this tiny life won’t have to grow up without a father.
“That’s fine,” he says. “We’ll figure this out together, Mari. I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be. We both got ourselves in this situation. It’s no more your fault than it is mine.”
“I’ll text you once I book my flight. I’ve got to hit the shower and head to the office.” His words are lighter, airier now.
“See you soon, Alec.”
Chapter 40
Hudson
Main Street in Orchard Hills leaves much to be desired as far as lunch options are concerned, but I’ve narrowed it down to a deli and a Thai place that both happen to straddle the coffee shop where Mari works.
Climbing out of my rental truck, I lock the doors and head up the sidewalk toward the deli. Unable to resist, I nonchalantly glance inside the coffee place, curious to see if she’s behind the counter today.
Only she’s not.
She’s seated at a table on the other side of the window, sipping on tea and smiling as she locks eyes with some guy. My heart drops. Someone may as well have punched me in the chest.
The Perfect Illusion Page 17