by Mary Campisi
“Oh?”
The quick response veiled in a question told him she already knew about it. Figured. “She did.” He laid a bag of tangerines on the counter next to the apples. “You’ve done a good job getting her on your side. Did you tell her the whole story or only the parts that made you look good?” He crossed his arms over his chest, stared. “You know, the parts that make you look like you’re completely innocent?”
“I didn’t want to tell her anything, but I can’t hide my feelings as well as you can.” Those hazel eyes flashed with anger and what looked like pain. “Or maybe you’re not hiding your emotions. Maybe you really just don’t care anymore.”
Her words flattened him. Didn’t care? Was she serious? He cared so damn much he couldn’t take a clean breath. He loved her. But could he ever trust her again? And if he couldn’t, what then? It was too damn much to handle right now. Jameson grabbed the tangerines and apples and stuffed them in the fridge. “I’ve got to go.” He needed time to think and he couldn’t do that with his wife a few feet away.
“Of course you do. Go. Run away so you don’t have to face what’s happening.”
Jameson gripped the edge of the counter, said in a quiet voice, “And what exactly is happening, Nicki? Tell me.”
She stared at him, shoulders squared, hands resting on a bunch of bananas. No tears, no quivering lips. “You’ve decided this marriage isn’t worth it.” Her voice slipped the tiniest bit. “I’m not worth a second chance.”
Chapter 15
The Christmas season was a time meant for sharing and giving thanks for the small gifts in a person’s life. Right now, Nicki only wanted one gift: a return of her husband’s love and trust. She truly didn’t know what their marriage would look like a year from now—if there even was a marriage left.
If they were to have a chance, compromise was key, and yet compromise hurt. Trust was scary, but it was crucial for any relationship. And forgiveness? That was the hardest of all. Could Jameson forgive her for doubting them and could she forgive him for placing himself in a position where she might doubt? They weren’t talking, they weren’t sleeping together, they weren’t doing anything but making one another miserable.
When Olivia asked why Daddy slept on the couch, they’d created a story about Mommy’s cold and then Daddy’s back problems. More tales with no truths that would eventually be found out. Nicki might have continued along a path of uncertainty and confusion, second-guessing herself and her husband’s plans, if Tate Alexander hadn’t paid her a visit one afternoon a few days before Christmas. The store was closed for inventory and when Tate called to ask if he might speak with her, Nicki knew what he wanted, knew also he wouldn’t sugarcoat his words.
As he stood before her, a competent, handsome man committed to his wife, she thought of her own husband and all the ways she’d hurt him. But when Tate spoke of blind faith, pure love, compromise, and that darn forgiveness, he said it in such a gentle tone, it was as if he saw her fear and understood what it felt like.
“I’d hoped you and Jameson would have sorted things out by now, but since you haven’t, I wanted to see if I could help.” Tate Alexander’s silver eyes filled with sympathy. “It doesn’t make me happy to acknowledge that my family’s meddling has caused your issues, but it’s true. If Meredith had kept her mouth closed and Camille had done the same, you and Jameson would be waist-deep in Christmas festivities. I heard about the way you shop for Christmas trees… The whole family heading out… The handmade decorations… Sounds like real memory makers.” He shook his head, let out a long sigh. “Meredith even told me about the special ornaments Jameson gives you every year.”
Yes, the ornaments that spoke of love, sharing, and family. He’d given them to her and she’d cherished each one, but it would be foolish to expect one this year. A husband didn’t buy a gift that spoke of forever and always for a wife who hadn’t trusted him. “Yes, well… Meredith and Camille may have encouraged me to question my husband’s actions, but it was my decision to believe or not believe in him. I chose to doubt him and worst of all, I hired a private investigator to provide proof he wasn’t cheating on me. Who does that?” Her voice clogged with emotion, spilled regret. “What about trust? What about knowing your partner would never hurt you that way? I can’t forgive myself, but there’s a part of me that believes this could have all been prevented if he’d only told me about her before I had to find out for myself.”
Tate shoved his hands in his pockets, the left side of his jaw twitching. “I can’t say I don’t agree, but I know how it happened. Sometimes we get caught up and can’t see the truth and before we know it, we’ve spun tales about our partner that logic says makes no sense. And yet, our heart believes them. Why is that?” His voice dipped, pulled her in. “It’s fear, fear that what we want most will be taken from us. And what do we want most? Their love, their commitment.” His voice turned rough. “How do I know this? I’ve lived it. I’ve felt that pain. Charlotte and I went through some difficult times and I wasn’t sure we’d make it. There was a lot of hurt and questions of trust, and we experienced something not much different from your private investigator and equally painful.”
Tate and Charlotte had gone through something like this? It seemed almost impossible, yet the misery on his face and the sadness in his voice said it was true. “How did you survive and get past it? When I see the two of you together, I can’t imagine a time when you weren’t one hundred percent devoted to each other. In fact, I can’t imagine the two of you at odds.”
He laughed, a rich vibrant sound that filled the room, followed by a smile that told her just how much she didn’t know about him and Charlotte. “We fight just like every other couple; it’s natural and normal and healthy. But we’ve learned to fight fair and keep the issues about the issues, minus the judgment and name-calling that does nothing but destroy feelings and hurt people.”
“There’s a lot of hurt between us right now and I’m not sure how to get past it.” She looked away, but the truth slipped out. “Or if we can.” Life without Jameson? It didn’t seem possible, but how long could they go on living separate lives, not talking, not touching, not sharing? She’d grown up in a house without love or family and she could not watch as her daughters did the same.
“Don’t talk like that, Nicki.” Tate reached out, touched her shoulder. “You belong together. It’s just going to take time.”
She cleared her throat, wished she believed that time would help. “But I don’t know what to do, Tate. I’m worried I’ve already lost him. What if we can’t get back to where we were?”
He squeezed her shoulder, said in a gentle voice, “What if you get back to being better than where you were? What if this is a test of trust and faith and you learn from it? Can you really imagine a life without him? When Charlotte and I struggled, I wasn’t sure I could get past the hurt, and then I pictured life without her, and that was the worst kind of pain I’d ever known. Until I pictured her with another man. Can you imagine life without Jameson and worse, him with someone else?”
She shook her head. “But what if he doesn’t want me anymore?” She’d grown up feeling unloved, second-rate, never quite good enough. Jameson had changed all that. “What if I’m not enough anymore?”
The smile he gave her offered hope. “The guy is as miserable as you are; take it from someone who’s been there. He needs you, Nicki. Open your heart and take the risk. You won’t be sorry; trust me, okay?”
Hours later, Nicki was still thinking about what Tate had told her. He needs you, Nicki. Open your heart and take the risk. You won’t be sorry. What did she have to lose other than her pride? Maybe she really could get another chance with the only man she’d ever loved…the only man she ever would love. It was definitely worth the risk and there was only one way to find out. The Oak Table wasn’t an optimal meeting spot, but with the long hours he’d been working and the little time he spent at home, it might be her only hope of actually getting his attention.
I’ll come whenever you need me and I’ll stay as long as you like. Her voice had spilled through the line in soft, hopeful tones. I’ll even stay overnight if you’d like to go somewhere quiet. You know, spend time together and reconnect.
What she meant was have sex. That was a long way off and not going to happen anytime soon. Nicki had thanked her and said, Let’s start with talking and see where it goes. We have to be able to stay in the same room for longer than five minutes before we consider anything else.
Thomasina had laughed. Not necessarily.
Nicki wasn’t interested in jumping into bed without fixing things first—if they could be fixed. What she wanted was her marriage and her husband back...like before.
Tuesday nights at The Oak Table were slow. The restaurant closed at 9:00 p.m. and the bar closed at 10. Nicki waited until 8:45 before she drove to The Oak Table. It took her ten minutes in the parking lot to gather the courage to walk inside, but she did it. Please, dear Lord, give me the strength. Please help me and I will never doubt us again. When she walked through the door, Jameson was fixing a drink, laughing with a customer. He didn’t see her at first, but oh, she saw him. The dark hair, the strong hands, the black turtleneck covering muscular shoulders... When he glanced up and spotted her, his smile slipped, his stance grew guarded. Nicki made her way to the bar, slid onto a stool. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” His dark brows pinched together. “Who’s got the girls?”
You can do this, you can do this. “Your mom’s watching them and I thought since you’re working so much, maybe I’d slip out and we could share a glass of wine.” The look on his face said, not happy and not likely. “And talk.”
He darted a glance at the customer he’d been serving—an older man Nicki recognized as a regular—then grabbed a bottle of wine, two glasses, and an opener and motioned her to follow. Was it a coincidence that he picked the same table where they’d shared their first meal, long before she knew he would own her heart and become her husband? Who knew what he was thinking? Most likely, it was a coincidence because Jameson didn’t seem to want to remember any of the good times they’d shared. All he wanted to focus on was ignoring her and remembering how she’d hurt him. She shrugged out of her coat, eased into the booth, and watched as he placed the bottle and glasses on the table and sat across from her.
“Why are you really here, Nicki?”
“I want to talk. About us.” She bit her bottom lip, forced herself to hold his gaze. “We need to talk about what’s happening to us before there isn’t anything left.”
He dragged a hand over his face, rubbed his stubbled jaw. She hadn’t been this close to him in days, hadn’t noticed the weariness on his face, the lines around his eyes that resulted from lack of sleep, stress, worry. All of the above.
“Talk? Is that what you want to do or is this going to be another blame game? Because if that’s what this is, I’m not interested.”
His words angered her more than hurt her. “I came to talk about us, because I care. Because I love you and I want this to work. You’ve been avoiding me, refusing to even look at me. Why is that, Jameson? Are you never going to want us to get past what happened? Are you giving up?” The set of his jaw said he was not divulging anything, not even the truth. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to be here?” Her voice cracked, split open. “To practically beg you to talk to me?”
“I trusted you, Nicki. I gave you everything I had, most of all my love, and that wasn’t enough.”
She placed her hands on the table, leaned forward. “I admit that I had doubts. Who wouldn’t? Your ex-girlfriend, the one you planned to marry, shows up two thousand miles away and tells you she’s the key to your big deal? And you don’t tell me about it? Do you have any idea how that made me feel? I told myself we were solid, we had dreams, we had each other and the girls and that was enough. But then I remembered Giselle and how manipulative she could be. And I remembered your words about not being good enough for her… I’m not proud of how I felt or acted, and I’m certainly not proud of the fact that I hired someone to investigate the situation. But I did and there’s nothing I can do to erase that. All we can do now is move on, if that’s what you’re interested in. If you aren’t, if you’re never going to get over this, then you need to tell me. I can’t live with a fractured relationship like ours has become. We don’t talk, don’t share, you sleep on the couch. It’s not a life, not for me or the girls.”
She waited for him to say something, but he was silent. “Well, I guess you said everything you have to say by not saying a word. I love you, Jameson. I have never known a love like this, one that made me feel I was a part of another person. And now that I’ve known what that’s like, I won’t settle for whatever this is.” She sucked in a breath, willed her voice to remain steady. “That’s all I’ve come to say. Think about it and let me know what you want to do.” She grabbed her coat and handbag, anxious to get to the car so she could fall apart.
Nicki made it three steps before Jameson touched her shoulder and spoke in an unsteady voice. “Wait.” She turned and looked up at him, noticed the brightness in his eyes. “Stay.” And then, “Please.”
The tiniest sliver of hope spread through her as she followed him back to their table and slid into the booth. This time he sat beside her, close enough to touch, but not touching. She watched as he opened the wine, poured them each a glass. Cabernet sauvignon.
Jameson handed her a glass, held her gaze. “You drank this the first time you came here.”
“I remember. I remember everything.”
He lifted his glass, held it to hers. “To getting back to us.”
“To getting back to us.” She clinked her glass against his, sipped her wine.
He slung an arm along the back of the booth, heaved a long sigh. “I haven’t slept in weeks. I blamed the time change from California, then the long hours at work, the lumpy couch...” His gaze burned into her. “But the real reason I can’t sleep is because you’re not beside me.”
“I have trouble falling asleep and when I do, I can’t stay asleep.”
He reached for her hand, clasped it between his. “I know we have to talk about this and I know it’s going to be painful for both of us, but can we just sit here for a few minutes? I want to feel what it used to be like.”
She nodded. “Whatever you need, just tell me.”
He leaned toward her, brushed his lips against her temple. “What I need is to find a way to get our life back, the one we had before I ever stepped on that damn plane.”
“We will,” she whispered. “We’ll talk this through and we’ll deal with it together, but you’ve got to stop shutting me out.”
There was a fierceness in his words when he spoke. “I know.”
But nowhere in those words did he say he could. That would have to be enough for now because with a man like Jameson, maybe he had to see and remember that it could be good again. Nicki lifted his hand to her lips, placed a kiss on the center of his palm. “Trust us. Don’t give up.”
Chapter 16
Nicki should have known that Giselle Robard would not simply disappear from a situation where she felt she’d been cheated. The call came the next afternoon as Nicki was getting ready to open up the shop. “May I speak with Nicki Gallagher, please?”
Nicki would have recognized Giselle’s voice anywhere and the fact that she’d used Nicki’s maiden name said this was not a call to apologize for anything—least of all, trying to steal Jameson. “Hello, Giselle. And my name is Price now. But then you knew that.”
A huff filled the phone, accompanied by a laugh. “You only have that name because I turned him down.”
Not exactly correct. In fact, it was so far off base that Nicki should be the one laughing. But she found no humor in Giselle Robard or her petty antics. She planned to shut the woman down and tell her exactly what she thought of her. “Is that what you tell yourself? You really believe Jameson would have married you?”
Another tinkle of laughter, longer and louder than the last. “There is no believing necessary. I was the one who dumped him or did he forget to mention that? Did he tell you he tossed me aside? Do not ever believe that, not for one single second.”
“Oh, he told me what happened… How you felt neglected and misunderstood, and how another man came along and told you everything you wanted to hear. That’s when you chose him. You married him, too, didn’t you? Even though you knew nobody would ever be like Jameson… But you had to have someone who would drool over you… Until he didn’t.” Yes, it was cruel to bring up the sad state of what had happened to the woman’s marriage, but Meredith had provided quite a few details and the time for being nice had ended the day Giselle Robard had her booted over a dog outfit.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My husband loved me…”
Was that a tremor in her voice? Maybe a flicker of uncertainty? “Sure he did, right up until he started sleeping with his assistant.” Nicki hadn’t thought Giselle would ever be incapable of finding words, but the woman was speechless for several seconds.
“How dare you? You don’t know anything about what happened. And whatever you think did or didn’t happen between your husband and me in California? Well, you’ll never know, will you? Did he cheat on you? Was he faithful? Did he not cheat yet wish he had? Those are all questions you can live with for the rest of your life. Every time he looks at you… Every time he tells you he loves you… Every time he touches you… You can wonder if he’s done the same with me, wonder if he’s still doing it.”