Dumpster Fire (Life Sucks Book 3)

by Elise Faber

  He was working on filing that concern away, to hold tight to the confidence that he and Soph would sort things out, when he heard his name.

  “Rob?”

  He spun, saw someone he hadn’t expected to see, someone he hadn’t seen in months.

  “Claudia,” he said, moving toward her and starting to give her a hug before remembering he was sweaty and covered in grass. He stopped. “Sorry, I’m gross.”

  Carmella’s mom smiled and patted him on the cheek. “You’re not gross, baby.”

  Pretending to sniff under his arm and wincing, he said, “Want to come inside? I’ll quickly clean up—unless you need me to fix something?” Claudia and Tom, Carmella’s parents, had moved to the next town over about six months before, downsizing into a smaller condo with less maintenance. “Is your sink giving you trouble again?”

  “No, it’s not that,” Claudia said, her expression concerned.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No. I—” She sighed. “Can we sit down somewhere and talk?”

  “Of course,” he told her, leading her into the house, into the kitchen so he could at least wash the grass remnants from his hands. Then he sat down on the barstool next to her and asked, “Can I get you something to drink?”

  She shook her head, wringing her hands. “No. Thanks.”

  Well, clearly, she had something on her mind, but he’d learned during his years with Carmella that she couldn’t be rushed, that sometimes she needed time to get her thoughts together.

  So, he gave her time.

  Eventually, she sighed again and managed to wrench her gaze up from his hands to his face. “I heard you’re seeing someone.”

  His gut knotted.

  That was not what he’d expected her to say. No freaking way.

  “I am,” he said, carefully.

  Her hand covered his, squeezed lightly. “I’m happy for you,” she said softly. “Truly, I am.”

  “So, why do you look like you swallowed a lemon?”

  Bottom lip trembling, she shook her head. “It’s not fair,” she whispered. “Not to you, and not to Carmella. My baby wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone. She loved you so much, would have wanted you to be with someone who did the same. It’s just . . .” A tear streaked down her cheek.

  He reached for their interlaced hands, cupped hers in both of his. “It feels more real.”

  A nod. “Like she’s really gone.” Another tear joined the first. Then more. “It’s silly because she’s been gone for two years now, and it shouldn’t be hitting me like this. But it’s like seeing you moving on makes it real all over again.” Using her free hand, she dashed away the tears. “I’m so thrilled you found someone. I am—”

  Her tears were coming in earnest now, so Rob released her hand and circled the island to retrieve the box of tissues he’d kept there . . .

  Well, ever since Carmella had begun keeping them there.

  Heart aching, he crossed over to Claudia, placed the box in front of her, pulling out a few and handing them to her, so she could dab her eyes. She’d been his second mom for so long that it absolutely killed him to see her this upset.

  Kneeling in front of her, he waited until she looked at him. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss Carmella.” He shook his head, throat burning. “I’ll drive through town and see the park we used to play at or go to the beach and remember all the stolen kisses.”

  Claudia met his eyes, her own pair narrowed. “I knew you two used to be up to no good during ‘homework time.’”

  He grinned. “That’s true,” he agreed. “But we were also up to a lot of good. So much good that sometimes my heart aches from the memory of it—even when I’m with someone new.”

  “Oh, baby,” she murmured.

  “I don’t think that will ever go away. How much I loved her will never fade, and no matter who I am with now, there will never be another Carmella. She was just . . . too big, lived too fully, was too open and joyful and full of love.” He patted her knee. “And because of that, your daughter will always live in my heart.”

  He heard a click, drawing his eyes to the hall, but then Claudia began crying again, this time even harder, so he didn’t get up to investigate. Instead, he rose to his feet and hugged his second mom tight.

  “I’ll never forget Carmella,” he said when she pulled back to wipe her eyes again. “I promise.”

  Claudia’s expression gentled. “I know, baby. But I meant it when I said that I’m happy for you.” She blotted her face then sighed and physically shook herself. “I came today not to have a meltdown—and I’m sorry to subject you to that—but because the rumors finally crossed town lines, and I heard you were seeing someone.”

  “I am.”

  “And from the way your eyes look right now, she’s something special.” Claudia patted his hand. “Now, you owe this second mom of yours all the details. Tell me about her.”

  An order.

  And perhaps one that should have made him uncomfortable, given that this was the mother of the first woman he’d loved, but Claudia had been in his life forever, and since his mom wasn’t around any longer, it felt right to share the details. “For a long time, I didn’t think my heart would ever heal from the void Carmella left behind,” he admitted. “But then I met Sophie.”

  “Sophie is a pretty name.”

  He smiled. “She’s pretty, too. Gorgeous actually, but it’s like she has this light inside her—even though she’s been through some really dark and painful things, that light is still there.”

  “Like Carmella. The light, I mean,” Claudia whispered.

  “And she’s got a mouth like Carmella, too.” His chuckle rumbled out of his chest. “The first time we met, she nearly ran me over with her car—”

  “What?”

  He waved her off. “Long story, but suffice to say, it was my fault for being in the road. And anyway, she helped me and cursed me out during the process.”

  Claudia giggled. “That does sound like my daughter.”

  “But she’s different in other ways,” he said, wanting to reassure her and himself that he hadn’t just gravitated toward Soph because he’d been looking for a replacement. “She can be so quiet, so still, happy to be sitting in a room without having to fill it with activity.” Carmella had been busy, always needing to do something or to be somewhere. “She likes wine, hates beer—IPAs in particular.”

  Claudia’s mouth twitched.

  “But she’s more than the similarities and differences. She’s special and wonderful and . . . my heart feels complete when I’m with her.”

  A sniff.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “No. That’s not why I’m crying, honey.” She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. “You know I’m a watering pot on a normal day.” She used her free hand to cover his again. “I wish you every bit of happiness, Rob. I’m so glad to see you living again, and I want you to keep doing it.” She sniffed. “Live your life big, baby. Live it to its fullest and don’t ever look back. Not ever.”

  Now his eyes stung, tears clogging the back of his throat. “Claud,” he whispered.

  “Come here and give me another gross, sweaty hug.”

  He stood and obliged her then they spent a few minutes catching up on non-heavy things before she ordered him to shower while she saw herself out, so he could go see his Soph.

  Then with a wave, she disappeared into the hall, the front door clicking shut behind her.

  But he didn’t pay attention to the noise.

  He was too excited to get to Soph.

  Twenty-Six

  Packed Bags

  Soph

  She was dying.

  Literally felt as though her heart had been torn from her body and she’d crunched it beneath her high-heeled sandals.

  And she couldn’t even blame anyone.

  Not Rob. Not herself.

  Not the ghost of a woman he still loved.<
br />
  She’d known Carmella was there, had wholly accepted that she would always be part of Rob’s heart because of the depth of their love.

  She’d just thought . . . there was room for her.

  How much I loved her will never fade, and no matter who I am with now, there will never be another Carmella.

  She hadn’t wanted to be another Carmella, but now she saw that she would never even come close. Rob might think he loved her, Rob might care about her, but she would never occupy the same space.

  “That’s okay,” she tried to tell herself as she drove home, crawling through the streets at a snail’s pace, worried that she was so scattered she might lose focus and really hit someone. “It’s okay to not be the same as her.”

  Soph could occupy a different space.

  But would it ever come close to what he had with Carmella? Would she love this man with every fiber of her being and not ever be held deeply in his heart?

  Oh, he wouldn’t do it intentionally. He was too nice of a guy to do that, to treat her as second best. It was just . . . she would always know she was.

  “Fuck,” she hissed, pulling into the garage at the rental and resting her head on the steering wheel. Her eyes burned with tears even though she was desperately trying to be logical about this. Clearly, whoever had been in the house had cared deeply about Rob’s late wife. He was probably trying to reassure them. He was probably just making sure they were okay.

  But all she could think was how he’d sounded when he said, No matter who I am with now, there will never be another Carmella.

  And Soph was who he was with.

  All of those old feelings, all the heavy shit she’d thought she was finally over, everything she’d hoped was buried and gone forever . . . all of it washed over her, sitting on her heart, her lungs. And she knew, despite what she’d thought over the last month, she would never be good and pure like Carmella. She would never be what Rob deserved, not when he deserved the world.

  Her heart had been dropped into a whirling blender, and she hadn’t thought it was possible to be in this much pain when there was nothing actually physically wrong with her.

  Perhaps, it was better to learn this now, with her leaving.

  It was the perfect punctuation mark.

  She’d started empty. She’d found more. And she’d leave empty, all over again.

  They could just both forget everything and go back to normal. Normal. Yes. Desperate for the cold nothingness, the even numbness, she grasped on to normal, to things going back to the way they were before.

  The knock on her window made her jump and glance up.

  And want to crawl under the tires of a moving car.

  Rob was smiling in at her, hand still lifted from the knock, but one look had his face filling with concern and reaching for the door handle.

  “Soph,” he said, once the door was open. “What’s wrong?”

  And she knew she had a decision to make.

  Was she going to get into a giant confrontation with him, was she going to admit she’d heard what she’d heard, that she’d heard how he truly felt? Listen to him convince her—and himself in the process—that what they had was different but no less valuable. He would certainly tell her that, certainly even believe it himself. But she wasn’t going to believe him. She couldn’t afford to believe him. Not when so much was at stake.

  So . . . instead of an argument, she was going to soak in this last sliver of time with the man whom she loved quite desperately. She was going to avoid ending their interlude with tears and recriminations.

  She would hold on to the good memories and give herself one more chance at a few more.

  The decision was the easiest of her life.

  Unbuckling her seat belt, she pushed out of her seat and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and told her first lie to this man.

  “I’m okay,” she said, putting her acting skills to use. “It’s just . . . I have to fly out tomorrow instead of the next day, and I’m so freaking disappointed.”

  Cursing, he pulled back, eyes filled with disappointment. “Me, too, Tempest.”

  Slice. The endearment sliced right through her heart. She forced a smile.

  His fingers trailed the shape of it. “What time is your flight?”

  “Nine in the morning.”

  He hissed out a breath, lips pressing flat. “Damn, that sucks.” He shifted, cupped her cheek. “But I guess that’s what I get for dating a famous woman.” Rob smiled, lightly stroking his thumb across her skin. “Can I drive you to the airport?”

  She should have said no, but instead, some perverse part of her wanted to soak in every last drop of him. “Yes,” she said, “I’d like that.”

  “You probably need to pack, huh?”

  Yes, she did.

  She also needed to book a flight—or have her assistant do it, anyway.

  “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll go grab a pizza and a change of clothes then we’ll come back and pack up the cottage. Work for you?”

  “Rob, you don’t have—” she began.

  “I don’t have to do anything,” he said. “But what I want is to spend every possible second with you between now and when you leave, even if that involves folding your skivvies.”

  Even with her heart in shreds, the man still made her laugh.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Okay, honey.”

  He kissed her briefly then turned toward his truck.

  “Rob?”

  He spun back to face her.

  “I love you.”

  His smile touched all the dark and jagged places inside her. “I love you, too, Tempest.”

  Then he was gone, getting into his truck and driving away while she moved into the cottage, made a call to her assistant to arrange the nine o’clock flight and accommodations upon her arrival in Italy.

  She’d finished packing her clothes by the time he returned with the pizza—Hawaiian for her, pepperoni for him—and over slices, he made plans for her return, jotting down dates in the calendar on his phone.

  “You’ll stay at my place in between shoots?” he asked.

  Heartsick, she just nodded, knowing there was no way she’d ever allow herself to come back here.

  “Then you’ll fly out to Hungary a week later?”

  Another nod. “As long as everything stays on schedule.”

  He made another note on his phone.

  “And then—”

  She couldn’t listen to anymore, not knowing what she knew, not knowing what she needed to do. Leaning across the table, she kissed him.

  “Soph,” he said, tearing his mouth away after a long, hot kiss. “We should talk—”

  “I need you, Rob,” she murmured. “Please. It’s our last night together.”

  His eyes dimmed, and he pushed out of the chair, scooping her up and carrying her down the hall. He set her gently on the bed and tugged off her heels. “Our last night, just for a while,” he said, pressing a kiss to her ankle.

  She couldn’t bring herself to agree.

  Instead, she wound her fingers into his hair and tugged him up then she kissed him with every ounce of love she had for this man. She would soak up this moment, this night, this fantasy, and hold tight to it for the remainder of her life.

  Because as the sun set, as he stripped her clothes and worshipped every inch of her skin, she knew that she would never set foot in Stoneybrook again.

  Her heart was broken.

  But it would heal—or if not heal, then eventually, she would find her way back to the perfect numbness.

  Her life would go back to normal.

  And so would Rob’s.

  Which was the only way she found the strength not to cry the next morning when he drove her to the airport, parked at the private tarmac where her plane would fly out, and handed her a box.

  “Open it,” he whispered.

  She tugged the lid off and . . . almost lost her battle with tears.

 
; Inside was the purple sweater she’d so admired in the window of Misty’s shop all those weeks before.

  “How?” she whispered.

  “Misty owed me a favor.”

  “I—I—” Battle lost; a tear slid down her cheek.

  He pulled the sweater from the box and handed it to her. “Wear it to keep you warm on those cold nights without me, okay?”

  Her nod was jerky, and she wiped her eyes, holding back the rest of the tears by pure stubbornness—or perhaps, it was the numbness washing over her again. Weighing her down, making her cold.

  She grasped on to the sweater, held it to her chest.

  And then she allowed herself one more kiss, one more long, scorching bit of contact to feed her soul.

  She got out of Rob’s truck.

  He got out, too, retrieving her suitcase from the back and handing it to the steward, who’d come down to check her documents.

  Then it was time to get on the plane.

  “Rob,” she whispered.

  “Hush, now, Tempest,” he said, enfolding her in his arms. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your rental car gets back to the lot.” He tapped her on the nose. “Without running anyone over, I promise.”

  More laughter.

  More kisses.

  More heart-shattering.

  Then, clutching that beautiful sweater to her chest, she said goodbye and got on the fucking plane.

  Twenty-Seven

  Silence

  Rob

  He’d thought something was wrong the moment that Soph had announced she was leaving on an earlier flight than planned.

  But he’d been off his game after the conversation with Claudia then blindsided by the news of Soph’s departure.

  Now, however, as the days had gone on, as she hadn’t returned his calls or texts or emails, he’d realized his error.

  She wasn’t upset about her departure—or not just that. She was upset because she was ending them.

  Or maybe she wasn’t upset so much as trying to scrape him off.

  That kernel of doubt had turned into a boulder.

  Maybe this entire thing was some sick acting ploy, some way to poke fun at the sad little small-town widower. Maybe—