Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(48)
She rolled her eyes at Dylan, and I wondered how they could have ever been together. They both seemed so different. “I’ll call you.” She headed out through a flurry of guests.
I slid my arms around his neck. “So that was Alicia, huh?”
He grinned. “You’re quite the force to be reckoned with.”
“Don’t you forget it.” I tapped his nose with my finger. “Talk to me about her inviting you to lunch. Does that happen a lot?”
He frowned. “Never. It was just that time I told you about. No, wait, she’d emailed me just a week or so before that. I’d forgotten about it until she called me. Before that I hadn’t heard from her since she called off the wedding.”
I pulled out of his arms and tried to steer us to our seats as the room filled with people and noise. But he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into him, keeping our bodies tight against each other as we headed to our table. “Did you give any thought to what I said? Maybe she wants to apologize. Meeting her might give you closure.”
“I don’t know what closure is, but I’m sure I don’t need anything from her.”
Louis had always been in constant contact with various ex-girlfriends, which he’d used as a tool to make me jealous. When I turned up at his hotel to tell him I was pregnant, the girlfriend he’d had before me was just leaving. I tried to tell myself that they were just friends, but he’d clearly still been f*cking her. Looking back, I didn’t understand how I allowed myself not to see it. I suppose the thought of losing him completely after the death of my mother had been too much to bear.
But I was a different person now. Dylan had given me no reason to doubt him, and the fact was that he obviously still had so much resentment toward Alicia; maybe he should meet her so he could put the past in the past and move on—with me.
“Hey.” He squeezed my knee under our table. “I’m not lying to you. We’re not in contact, and I’m not interested in anything that she has to say. I got over her a long time ago.”
“I think you should consider hearing her out. Maybe you’re not as over her as you think you are.” I didn’t want our relationship to be in any way a reaction to what Alicia had done to him.
“Look at me,” he growled and I turned to face him. “I’m with you. She had her chance.”
“All I’m saying is think about it. Just promise to tell me if she gets in contact, or you decide to see her.”
He needed to know that transparency was important to me. It was at the core of my sobriety. I demanded honesty from myself and I needed it from the people in my life.
“I’m not going to see her again, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Okay, but I want to be clear about my expectations. I need openness from you. Don’t hide stuff. If you decide you want to meet her, that’s fine. Just tell me.”
I watched his chest rise as he took in a breath. “Okay, but I don’t want to meet her.”
“Just think about it.” I smiled tightly at him.
“Are we okay?” he asked. I clearly wasn’t good at faking my smile.
“We’re more than okay. I’m crazy about you, and I don’t want either of us f*cking this up.”
He grinned. “I’m crazy about you, and I really want to make you happy.”
He looked sincere, vulnerable and so damn sexy. I smoothed his hair away from his face.
I was falling for Mr. 8A.
Our table filled up and Dylan introduced me to various people. Raf and Dylan’s business was quite the supporter of the charity at the center of the evening’s gala. I hadn’t realized that they would be such a focal point of the evening. When the speeches started, it became clear that the charity was a mental health organisation. It wasn’t the most obvious cause and that Dylan had chosen to support them added a depth to my understanding of him.
“I just need to thank some people.” Dylan dipped his head and kissed me on the cheek as he stood up and made his way to the stage.
He looked so handsome in his black tie, his hair swept back from his beautiful face. I couldn’t quite believe he was mine.
I was so focused on the fit of his tux and the sparkle in his eye that I wasn’t focused on what he was saying until I heard the words “my experience with depression.”
“I couldn’t remember a point in my childhood that wasn’t marred by the debilitating disease that is depression. My mother's illness began when I was born. As a result, I remember her being only a peripheral character while I was growing up.” Dylan stared out into the crowd as he spoke, his eyes searching for something. I wanted to rush up on stage just to hold his hand, to let him know that I was here for him. “It was my dad who took my brother and I to school, cooked us dinner, taught us how to ride a bike and checked our homework. I have no memories of my mother doing normal, motherly things. I don’t remember her smile, her laugh. All I remember is her being in bed and being told she was sick. I spent nights worried that she would die, that my dad, my brother and I would catch whatever she had and get sick too.”
Tears formed at the corners of my eyes. How had I not known just how incredible this person in front of me was? The idea that this man, who was so in control, so considerate and confident, was once a vulnerable boy who just wanted a normal life was almost too much to bear. It was easy to assume that Dylan’s life had always been as charmed as it was now, but it clearly had been anything but. I wanted to take away his pain and make him happy. I had an urge to comfort and soothe him. How could I have not known this?