May the Best Man Win

by Mira Lyn Kelly

  “Eighteen,” he groaned, because, Jesus.

  “Seventeen when I got pregnant. Not that your father knew.” Her eyes went distant. “I thought I was so mature. So grown up. I looked it, and of course I liked the attention I got from the older guys. So I snuck out, got into bars with a fake ID, and let guys like Joe buy me drinks and tell me jokes and make me feel like I was really something. Your dad thought I was twenty-two when we met. He had a good job working as an electrician, money, charm, and all those good looks. The way he treated me…” Something softened in her face.

  His dad had been good to her. Of course he had.

  “I wasn’t used to being treated like that, and I fell for him hard. We were together for six months before I found out I was pregnant with you.”

  “But he still didn’t know how old you were?” Jase asked, unable to imagine his dad—the guy who’d busted him at fifteen for having friends over when he wasn’t supposed to because the carpet had been too clean—not catching on to something like that. “He hadn’t met your family or friends?”

  “No. I was careful about who he met. And my family… He knew we weren’t close.”

  And it was always easy to believe what you wanted to be true.

  No matter how farfetched it might be.

  Jase closed his eyes, his thoughts circling back to Emily for what might have been the hundredth time that day, the guilt that never quite went away spiking hard.

  He’d wanted to believe the worst about Emily, while letting her believe the best about him. What kind of a man did that?

  He looked back at his mother. What kind of a woman did what she’d done?

  “Joe had already been talking about marrying me, but I was terrified that once he knew the truth, that I’d been lying to him and I was only seventeen, he wouldn’t want me anymore. But that’s not how it went. Sure, he was mad I’d deceived him, and he beat himself up pretty bad about my age. But he said he loved me, and if I loved him, we’d get married.”

  Jase couldn’t imagine. But suddenly he had a new insight into his father’s sense of responsibility toward the woman in front of him.

  “Did you love him?” He didn’t know why he’d asked. She could say anything, but as they sat across from each other, he had the feeling this woman had put her lies behind her.

  “I thought I did. I thought I was getting everything I wanted. And then I had you. I’d turned eighteen two weeks before, and while most of my friends were going off to college, reveling in boyfriend drama, and trying to decide which party to go to, I was trying to figure out why this baby cried so much. Why he wouldn’t sleep. Why he wouldn’t let me sleep.”

  She was looking at him, studying his face, and Jase imagined she was searching for traces of the child she was telling him about.

  “My parents weren’t any kind of help. Your dad, though, he was amazing. He’d work as many hours as he could, since we needed money, and then the minute he walked through the door he’d take you in his arms and suddenly everything would be okay. He’d tell me all the things I needed to hear but could only believe while he was saying them. That I was doing a terrific job. That he was the luckiest man alive. That everything was going to be great.”

  It hurt Jase’s heart to hear that his mother had actually cared about his dad. That things might have been good between them, even for a short time. Because it had been so much easier to see her as a villain from the start.

  “I wasn’t ready to be a wife or a mother, Jase. No matter how good your father was to me, it couldn’t change that fact. And pretty soon I started acting out. I’m not proud of the things I did, or the way I treated your father. How I disrespected him and the vows we took. And I’m not proud of the fact that I couldn’t be a real mother to you. But I wasn’t ready for the life I’d signed on for. You were small and helpless and so dependent on me. I should have cherished and nurtured that bond.” Her head bowed and she looked away. “Instead, I resented you. I’m so sorry, Jase. You deserved better. Your father deserved better than what I did to him. And when I left, I thought—I hoped—you both might find it.”

  This was the part of the story he knew. The part that had shaped the man he’d become.

  “We didn’t. You broke him when you left. It took almost a year before he was able to pull himself back together. And then every time you called, it would be the same thing all over again. Weeks of heartbreak.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t want to hurt him. I wanted to hear that he was okay, that you were.”

  Jase let out a humorless laugh. “Right. Look, I can buy into the fact that you were young, and you made some mistakes. But don’t try to convince me you cared how I was doing. At best I registered as an afterthought, even when you were living here. But in twenty years, in all the times you called Dad, never once did you ask to speak to me, send me a card, or come back to visit. You couldn’t even bother to say good-bye that last day when you left.”

  Jesus, he hadn’t wanted to say any of that. Hadn’t wanted her to know her actions had made any kind of impact on him.

  His mother stared across the table at him, tears filling her eyes. “I didn’t say good-bye because I was afraid if I did, I wouldn’t be able to go. And I needed to. I didn’t know how to be the things you needed. And every time I looked into your eyes, I saw the same pleading that was there in your father’s, begging me for something I didn’t have within me to give.”

  She shook her head and looked away. Wiped her eyes before turning back to him. “I loved you, Jase.”

  He should have laughed. Told her what a lot of good her love had done him. Only he couldn’t toss the words back at her. He couldn’t let them go at all.

  They sat in silence a moment before Jase braved his next question. “What made you come back?”

  “Your father asked me to. Though I think you know it wasn’t the first time.”

  He knew. He remembered the aftermath of every call.

  “You always said no.”

  “It was hard. I knew what I was missing. I’d look at the families around me. The moms scooping up their little boys for hugs, haggling with their teens about haircuts, stepping into their husbands’ arms.” She shook her head. “But I was afraid I wasn’t ready. And by the time I was, you were eighteen, going off to school, starting a whole new phase of your life. There was a part of me that didn’t want to disrupt that. I thought it wouldn’t be fair to show up after I missed all of the years that mattered for you. And I was scared. The mistakes I’d made in the past had been so terrible that I didn’t believe I had the right to ask for or deserved another chance with the family I threw away.”

  The air hissed out of his lungs as his hands fisted against his thighs.

  Ten years.

  His chest hurt thinking about all that time. Thinking about the melancholy in his dad’s eyes when he didn’t know Jase was looking. About the sound of his father’s laugh when he’d walked in on them a few months back. About the time wasted.

  She might have been back ten years ago, if only she’d been brave enough to ask for the chance.

  “What changed?” He needed to know. To understand.

  “About a year ago, I’d moved to a new city in Ohio and called your father. I don’t really know what happened, but the conversation just…got away from us. It was good. And when we were getting off the phone, I didn’t want it to end. I asked if I could call him again, and we started talking more regularly. He wanted to hear about my life. I wanted to hear about both of yours. We would talk about my work and his. We would talk about you.”

  Jase’s throat was tight, his heart pounding. “You became friends.”

  She nodded. “And then one day he asked me if I had ever found what I was looking for. He wanted to know if I was happy. I told him that I’d found peace with my choices and that I’d built a life I could respect. I told him I had friends and I k
ept busy. And I almost left it at that… But after all the years of missing what I’d given up, I just couldn’t do it. I had to take the risk and trust Joe with the truth—that a part of me had been empty since the day I left.”

  Now Jase was grinning. “And?”

  “And he asked me if I would let him take me out on a date.” A light began to shine in her eyes, and for the first time in more than twenty years, Jase saw her smile. And he got it, just a little bit. This hold she had on his father. “Maybe give it one more shot now that we’re both older and wiser. I was living in Ohio, so the next Saturday we each hopped in our cars and drove to Indiana, where we had coffee. We met that way six more times before your father asked me if I would like to come up for a weekend.”

  Jase hadn’t had a clue. “And the rest is history.”

  “Well, we took our time, but I guess you could say that.” She paused and turned toward the front door as though looking for his father. “We were going to tell you, Jase. It’s just that this thing was so new, and we were both so nervous. Neither one of us wanted to bring you into it until we felt confident about going forward.”

  Jase pinched the bridge of his nose. “So are you guys talking about getting married again?”

  His mother laughed, the sound of it sweet and warm as she reached across to pat his hand. “Your dad told me that for a kid who never wanted to get married, you sure spend a lot of time at weddings. Haven’t you had enough?”

  Jase shrugged, not sure he knew the answer to that himself.

  A moment passed and Clara’s smile faded, her eyes going somber.

  “I know it’s too late for me to be your mom. I know I gave up that privilege twenty years ago. But please know that I love you. I always asked your father about you. I always wanted to know. I just thought it would be easier for you if I…” She shrugged. “I did what I thought was best. And if it’s something you can’t forgive me for, then I’ll respect that. But I hope in time you’ll give me a chance to get to know the man you’ve turned out to be. I hear you’re pretty great.”

  Chapter 25

  Things were finally beginning to come around. Two days after their Scandal binge sleepover, Sally called bubbling over with the kind of gushing enthusiasm Emily hadn’t heard since her friend had first met Romeo. He’d asked if he could stay for dinner that night. She’d said it had been awkward, the conversation stilted and the silences filled with all the things they weren’t ready to talk about—but he’d been there.

  And that was the start Sally had been praying for.

  The next night Romeo had asked if they could try to talk about what happened, and Wednesday morning Sally had called to report that their fight had been a blowout lasting until after midnight—but they’d been talking, and before he left, he’d told her he loved her.

  For a few hours after that, Emily had been able to forget about her own problems and just be happy for her friend.

  But soon enough she was back to thinking about Jase. Wondering about all the things that could have been different and how they might have found their way to an ending happier than this one. Work helped, but only as long as she kept going. Which was why at 2:11 a.m. on a Thursday—no, now Friday morning—Emily was drafting a pitch her team wouldn’t even meet on until next week.

  Busy was good. But as her finger strokes slowed on the keyboard, her mind drifted back to Jase and the sound of his gruff laugh at her ear, the feel of his arms tightening around her waist as he pulled her against him—she was reminded that busy wasn’t always enough.

  Of course that might have had something to do with finding out that afternoon her friend Kasie was engaged, and Emily was about ninety percent sure that Jase qualified as groomsman material for Vince.

  She pushed up from her sofa and walked over to the windows where she tried to stretch out her shoulders and back. The streets below were quiet, with only a smattering of pedestrians and traffic at a minimum.

  Had Jase found out about the engagement today too? Did he remember that she and Kasie were close? What would happen when they were paired up and she found out that Jase had already moved on to his next girlfriend?

  Emily wrapped her arms across her belly, holding herself tight as she fought the nausea that rose at the mere thought of Jase with another woman. Kissing her. Holding her. Making her laugh and feel like maybe, just maybe… This one.

  That was it. She was driving herself crazy, and the work wasn’t helping. Stalking over to her closet, she was reaching for a parka when she caught sight of her button-down pink plaid pajamas in the mirror. Not exactly gym wear, and a hard workout that didn’t include running was maybe the only thing left with the potential to clear her mind and wear her out enough to facilitate sleep. About to go change, she stopped at the ping of her phone.

  A text message.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she rushed back to the coffee table where she’d left her phone, way too enthusiastic about the prospect of some work emergency she would legitimately have to throw herself into. Only the text wasn’t from any of her team reports. It wasn’t from a client, and it wasn’t from her boss.

  Jase.

  Coffee?

  So that would be a yes on Jase already knowing about the engagement.

  She’d told him she didn’t want him stopping by. That it hurt too much. But she didn’t think anything could feel worse than walking away from him on Saturday had. And if they were going to have to see each other again anyway…

  She texted back: Now?

  Two and a half seconds later, Jase was calling. She answered on the first ring.

  “I didn’t think you’d be awake,” he said by way of greeting, the deep rumble of his voice both soothing and disconcerting. But mostly just good to hear. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  It was probably a good idea. She could keep it brief. Limit it to the wedding.

  “What are you doing awake?” she asked instead, circling around to her sofa and dropping into the corner that hadn’t felt nearly so comfortable ten minutes before. “You sound tired.”

  “I could ask you the same thing, only I don’t really care why you’re up—just that you are. That you answered.” A pause. “Look, Em, I know you asked me to stay away, but I’d really like to talk to you sometime. Which sounds like bullshit even as I say it, because you don’t owe me anything. But I just—”

  The sound of a horn filtered through the line and Emily sat up straighter.

  “Are you out?” Then she sat straighter still, her stomach pitching. “Jase, have you been drinking?”

  Her answer was the sound of Jase’s laughter rumbling through the line. God, she’d missed it.

  “No. I just couldn’t sleep and went out for a walk. I found myself in your neighborhood and… I don’t know. I guess I thought a text wouldn’t be too intrusive. Especially if you got it in the morning when you woke up.” He chuckled again. “My mistake.”

  He was making light, turning something awkward into a joke, but she could hear the serious undertones beneath the words. Sense a regret that matched her own.

  “I could make a pot of coffee.”

  She hated how they’d left things, and maybe what they needed was just a chance to talk. To say good-bye in a way that wasn’t quite so heartbreaking, so when they saw each other again at the next party or wedding or bumped into each other on the street, neither would feel like they had to run the other way.

  So she wouldn’t feel like bursting into tears.

  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  * * *

  She was standing at the door, holding it open, when Jase stepped off the elevator, and she was grateful for those panels of solid wood to support her, because when she saw him… Wow, he looked good. So good that she regretted not having thought to lose the ratty bun, because this business with the sneakers, long-sleeved white T-shirt, and pair of worn jeans that rode the
perfect level of low on his hips… No one was supposed to look like that.

  And when she’d finally braved up enough, she forced her eyes back to his face, taking in the rough stubble covering his jaw and throat, and the lines that looked just a little deeper around his eyes and mouth.

  This was definitely a mistake. But being this close, right and wrong faded to the background and all that mattered was how badly she needed to see this man.

  Jase stepped up to her, his big hand settling at her waist only long enough for him to drop a kiss at her temple and walk past into her apartment.

  Emily shut the door behind her.

  “So I started thinking that if neither of us can sleep already, maybe coffee isn’t the best option. I can make it, but I do still have that bottle of Bulleit, if bourbon sounds better. Up to you,” she added, feeling nervous about having Jase back in her space. About being this close to him after—well, after everything.

  “Actually, a drink sounds great.”

  “You know where it is. Grab a glass for me too?”

  “Got it,” he replied, the exchange painfully familiar.

  Emily had already cleared her makeshift office from the couch, but she felt at loose ends, not knowing what to do with herself now that Jase was there. Now that they were going to sit down for a friendly chat—at two a.m. while she was wrapped up in her pj’s and bulky robe. So for the sake of looking busy, she moved everything again from the secretary table by the window over to the dining room.

  Jase stepped out of the kitchen, two glasses in hand.

  She expected him to take the couch opposite hers, but instead, he moved to sit beside her.

  It wasn’t weird.

  She was being weird.

  Because even with at least eighteen inches between them, she could still feel the air crackling in that empty space.