The Do-Over(69)

Blowing out a sigh, I closed my eyes. “It’s what I wanted to tell you about the first night we made love. It happened when you were a fifteen-year old memory. It only happened once and frankly was a debacle, and if I could take one day back and make it not happen, I would. But I can’t. And as far as you being jealous – of what? A bad memory?”

“He and I have a complicated history.”

“Yeah, I know. Bros before hoes.” I just wanted to get off the dance floor and away from him.

Wes threw his head back in laughter. I’m not sure what he found funny about my statement, but I certainly wasn’t amused, which he could now see on my face.

Still chuckling, he said, “You know what Julien said to me right after I punched him in the face? He said, ‘Hoes before bros’.”

“Fucker called me a Hoe?” I was irrationally incensed.

“Yeah. And I punched him again.”

“Thank you.” I tried to hide my smile.

“T, that weekend nearly broke me. Between Julien blindsiding me with what he told me and the cancer being discovered in Stacy’s lung, I got sucker punched twice. Was it right to take it out on you and not listen to you? No. That was a huge freaking mistake. I was already at a low and flipping out about you when I learned that the cancer had metastasized. It was like the two women I loved most were just ripped from me and I couldn’t control the spiral. I was mad at you for being with him. And yes, I know it’s irrational to be mad at you for something that happened before I was in your life. But there was nothing rational in my emotions that weekend and I knew I had to gather up my strength to help Stacy with this new leg of her fight and I just didn’t have the strength to deal with the emotions I was feeling about us. I needed to channel them for Stacy. I thought I’d have her for a while longer and I’d be the one cheering her along, providing hope. Her death so soon was like the last punch down. Except this time, I didn’t get back up. I lost hope.”

“I’m sorry that you had to go through all that.” The song was changing again, but after that baring of his soul, I didn’t feel like I could pull away and my first gut reaction was to soothe him. “Did you put in requests with the DJ?” I smiled at Crowded House’s Don’t Dream It’s Over.

“I did.” He smiled back. “And you have one more song you have to dance with me to after this one.”

“True, Jealous Guy, Don’t Dream It’s Over – I can’t even imagine what you’ve got up next.”

Pulling me in tight, I just put my head against his chest as we danced in silence. I was being internally drawn and quartered by my own emotions and I wished I could quiet them enough so that I could just enjoy the sublime sensation of being held in his arms again. Part of me wanted to turn back the clock to before the weekend that everything fell apart, and yet overriding that was the fear that this man could once again cast me aside and kick me to the curb. And I knew, that if I were emotionally in deeper, that pain would be unbearable.

When the Gin Blossoms’ Till I Hear It From You began playing, Wes whispered in my ear, “I want a do-over.”

Pulling my head from his chest, I searched his face. It wasn’t so simple. Just as he needed to be there for Stacy. I needed to be there and strong for Scarlett. She needed a mother who protected her and the first line of defense for that was protecting myself, so that I could be there for her. “I’m not going to respond to you with the mean thing you said to me when I told you that. Excuse me.” I broke free of his arms and walked off the dance floor, headed out into the Silver Corridor in search of the Ladies’ Room.

Leaving the ballroom, I took a deep breath before approaching two women behind a table setting up gift bags and asked them where I could find the bathrooms. Wishing I had no make-up on, I was fantasizing about splashing cold water on my cheeks or maybe just dumping my whole face directly into a sink full of cold water and then walking out with streaks of mascara running down my face.

I felt numb. Positively numb. Wes wanted me back. He’d even said something about the two women he loved most and one of them was me. So then why the hell would he have treated someone he loves the way he treated me?

As I washed my hands, I hoped that dessert was served soon. I’d had about enough of this evening. I wanted to settle back into the cushy seats of the limo and kick off my beautiful, yet ridiculously painful, shoes.

Walking out of the Ladies’ Room I was shocked to feel the pressure of strong fingers digging into my upper arm. The déjà vu was not a pleasant memory.

“Julien, get your hands off me.” I shook my arm hard to rid his grasp. “Don’t you touch me.”

“What? Not rough enough for you, Tara?”

I wanted to smack the sneer off his face.

“Get out of my way.” I unsuccessfully tried to sidestep around him.

“You need to stay away from Wes.” The man loomed over me.

That seemed to have been the prevailing sentiment from the time I first met Mr. Bergman. First Stacy and now Julien. Except I didn’t think I’d ever become friends with Julien.

“Get out of my way,” I repeated.

His finger was now in my face and I had taken the protective posture of crossing my arms over my chest.

“You go near him, Tara, and I will destroy you.”

“Number one, get your effing finger out of my face and number two, if you screw with me any further, I will bring you down and the gravy train you have been living off will quickly dry up. Wes has been so good to you and all you do is look for ways to hurt him.”