All I've Never Wanted(45)

I shrugged. I didn't really care. Parker was the one who’d suggested we come here. As he rattled off a bunch of orders to the waiter, I gazed around the room.

It was so quiet and serene. And expensive-looking. I was half-glad Adriana had forced me to wear this dress, because all the other diners were pretty dressed-up too.

“You ok?” Carlo asked quietly.

I nodded. “This’ll be the second time today that I’m eating sushi,” I realized.

Carlo laughed. “Sadly, they don’t have Twix here as a dessert.”

I smiled, feeling touched all over again that he’d gone to all that trouble to send me lunch. Ok, so it had probably only taken a phone call, but still. It was the thought that counts.

“Really? Well, maybe they have a vending machine in here somewhere,” I joked.

Carlo let out another laugh.

I took a sip of my water, pleased. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an older couple enter the restaurant. The man had his arm around the woman’s waist, and he leaned down to whisper something in her ear before giving her a peck on the lips.

The woman giggled. She had on a low-cut green dress that looked even tighter than mine felt, while the man wore a gray suit that actually looked kind of familiar.

As I got a closer look, though, I suddenly realized why that suit looked so familiar, causing me to almost spit out my water.

The man looked up, and we locked eyes. A horrified expression crossed his handsome face as I felt the bile rise up in my throat.

No. No, it can’t be! my mind screamed, as everything else in the restaurant seemed to fall away, leaving only my churning stomach and shocked, frozen body behind. It CAN’T!

I clapped a hand over my mouth, suddenly feeling unbearably nauseous.

“Maya! What’s wrong?”

I wasn’t even sure who asked me that question. I couldn’t seem to think straight right now.

I pushed back my chair with a loud screech, causing everyone else in the restaurant to give me scandalized glares, but I couldn’t care less what those overdressed snobs thought of me at the moment.

Biting back a sob and praying I didn’t throw up right there on the floor, I ran out of the restaurant, even as I heard the man frantically call my name.

I burst through the doors and ran to the edge of the sidewalk, gripping a nearby lamppost for support as I dry heaved. Tears slowly ran down my face and blurred my vision, but they couldn’t erase the image of my father kissing another woman, a woman who wasn’t my mother, from my mind.

Chapter 12

When I finally finished dry-heaving, I straightened up and slumped against the lamppost, my throat and eyes raw from crying.

Tonight was turning out to be the worst night ever. The fact everyone around me seemed so happy just made me more miserable.

I stared up at the sky, where the stars winked down at me. Please, just let me wake up and find out it was all a horrible nightmare, I silently pleaded. Please!

I was still standing there, hoping to wake up, when I felt someone touch my arm.

“Maya, look at me,” he pleaded.


And I knew that I wasn't going to wake up. Because this wasn't a dream, it was my life.

I yanked my arm away, glaring at my dad through eyes puffy from crying. No. Actually, he wasn’t even my dad anymore. The dad I knew couldn’t afford to go to restaurants like Masa—one of the most expensive in the world—with some slutty bimbo, to boot. He didn’t lie to his family about going on business trips. And he definitely, definitely did not cheat on my mom.

“Don’t touch me,” I spat, ignoring the hurt look that crossed his face. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

“It’s—it’s not what you think,” my dad stuttered. “Why don’t you just let me explain?”

“Oh, really? So what? Did I somehow hallucinate and imagined that you kissed that woman in there? Did the meaning of ‘going on a business trip’ change into ‘going to an expensive dinner in New York City with a bimbo’? Because unless those two things happened, then it’s exactly what I think!” I screamed, ignoring the looks passersby were throwing us.

“I—we—she’s—“My dad stopped, obviously at a loss for words.

“How could you do that to mom?” My lower lip trembled, and to my horror, I felt the tears rise again.

My dad let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. Though it still held no flecks of gray, his face was weary, and for the first time, he looked every bit the 43-year old he was.

“Perhaps we should talk about this at home,” he suggested quietly.

I couldn’t believe it. He still had the nerve to say the word home?

“No!” I spat hatefully. “I want everyone to know what a scumbag you are!”

“Maya! Watch your language! I’m still your father, you know.”

“No you’re not! I hate you!” And with that, the tears started falling again, so that I barely noticed when someone pulled me protectively into his arms. “I hate you,” I repeated, sobbing into the person’s chest. I didn’t even care who it was. I just needed someone to lean on right now.

“Come on, why don’t we get you out of here?” I dimly heard Adriana suggest. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Lindberg, but I think it’s best if Maya’s left alone for a bit.”