Reckless Hearts (Oak Harbor #2)(13)
So what is it about this man that’s so infuriatingly distracting?
At least now I’ve made it clear nothing’s going to happen between us. That should be the end of that. I’m about to grab my computer and try to get a head-start on work when my cellphone rings. Mom.
I brace myself as her enthusiastic voice chatters down the line. “Sweetie, are you OK? You didn’t reply to my text.”
“Which one?” I ask lightly. “You sent me like, two dozen. You don’t need to give me a running commentary on the new Real Housewives episodes,” I add. “I can watch them myself.”
“But it’s always more fun, you know your father won’t watch any of those shows. If it doesn’t have a cop or a dead body, he’s not interested.”
Mom launches into a recap of her week, so I go sit on the front steps, and watch the town slowly come to life in the morning sun. One day, I want a big wrap-around porch with a swing to hang out in all day, but for now, I like my little corner of the world just fine.
“So what’s going on with you?” she asks, barely pausing for breath. “We haven’t seen you in forever, we should come down and visit soon.”
“You know I’m busy with work,” I remind her. “Summer is always our busiest time of year, all the tourists dreaming about living here year round.”
“I know, but you work too hard, honey. You need to make time for other things. Like a man in your life—”
“Mom,” I try to interrupt, warning, but she pushes on.
“I know, I’m supposed to butt out, but I never hear you talk about anyone serious. You don’t tell me anything at all.”
“That’s because there’s nothing to tell!” I protest. And when there is, I don’t exactly want to spill the juicy details to my mom.
“That’s the problem, if you put half as much time into finding yourself a man as you did finding your clients a new home, you’d be settled with someone wonderful by now. You know I kissed a lot of frogs before I met your father, and we’ve got our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary right around the corner. That reminds me, you’ll be able to make the dinner?”
I tense at the reminder. I’ve been ignoring it for a while now, ever since Mom first enthusiastically shared their plans. “When is it?”
“On the fifteenth. I sent you an email with all the details. I picked a lovely spot over in Beachwood Bay, that new seafood restaurant.”
“I’ll be there,” I promise, sighing.
“Oh, he’s just pulling in front the store now. Ted!” she yells, before coming back to the phone. “Hold on a second, he’s just bringing the bags in—”
“It’s OK,” I cut her off hurriedly. “I have to go now anyway, we’ll chat some other time.”
“Well, alright. And think about what I said, I know I’m just your old mom, but I know a few things.”
“I’ll think about it,” I lie, before saying goodbye and hanging up.
I sit on the steps and let out a long, weary breath.
Twenty-five years.
Except, it’s not really that long. Mom chooses to ignore the year we lost, after Dad came clean about the affair he’d been carrying on with a woman at his office—all that time he’d been lying to us both. It was such a betrayal; I can still remember the shameful look on his face when they both sat me down to tell me. He couldn’t even look me in the eyes, just kept his gaze fixed on the mantle—filled with happy photographs of the family that, it turned out, wasn’t enough for him, after all.
After that, things got messy. It was summer at least, so I spent almost every night out with friends, creeping in at dawn with sand in my hair—not that anyone noticed. He packed up and went to go play house with Jana from accounting, and even thought I felt guilty about stranding mom to deal with everything, it was a blessing to leave the tearful fights and anger behind and head off for college. I thought they’d file for divorce, that it was over for good, but when I pulled back into the driveway at home for spring break, I found them both waiting for me, nervous smiles on their faces.
They were trying again. Making it work. He’d come back begging with his tail between his legs, and mom had crumbled and taken him back.
It took me a long time to understand how she could forgive him, and I guess a part of me still doesn’t, after all this time. The cheating is one thing, but the lies . . . I can’t wrap my head around it. He betrayed her, betrayed us both, and even though I’ve done my best to follow her lead and pretend like it never happened, a part of me will never forgive him for that. When you trust somebody, and they let you down . . . there’s no going back, no second chances—at least as far as I’m concerned.
Just one more reason not to think that a relationship is going to last forever. Once my eyes were open, I saw it everywhere: the lying, the playing pretend. My college girlfriends crying over a new breakup every other week; the guys who swore they only cared about you, but who had their phones buzzing all night with the latest Tinder matches. It seems like the minute you put a label on a relationship, or make that commitment, everyone is suddenly desperate to escape. And not just guys, either. I’d watch my girlfriends tell dozens of little white lies, pretending to be something they weren’t just to keep the illusion of whoever he thought they were alive. It looked exhausting to me, a betrayal of who you really are, so I decided, once and for all: I’d never put myself in a position like that, set myself up for heartbreak by believing a relationship could last. Keep things simple, keep it fun, and nobody has to tell any lies. After all, if you’re not expecting happily-ever-after, then you don’t lose any sleep when it all comes crashing down. I’ve never pretended to want anything different, that’s why if Will had given me any warning, I would have told him to keep his bags packed, turn around and go right back to where he came from.