KEPT_ A Second Chance Fairy Tale(63)

Lucy sits back, crossing her arms over her waist. Her eyebrow cocks as she replies, “I’d have to say finding out both was a shock.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can think of to say.

“You kept so much from me. I’m not sure how well I really know you.”

Immediately, I contest, “You do know me. I kept my past from you, not my future.”

“You’re hard to know,” she argues. “You’re not easy to understand.”

“I’m who I am, Lucy. I’m not sure I can change.”

“You hate change,” she reminds me.

A few moments of stilted silence pass, permitting only an eye-to-eye standoff. I can see she’s starting to waver by the small curl of her lip on one side.

With my patience waning, unsure how much longer I can take being so exposed, I ask, “Do you love me, Lucy?”

“Yes,” she immediately whispers. “I love you.”

With those words spoken, I immediately stand. I walk from my side of the booth and make my way to hers and sit close. I understand there’s more to discuss, and I won’t push until she’s ready, but it feels as though I haven’t taken a breath since being so close to her.

“I don’t want to lose you, Lucy. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done with reason,” I reiterate. She already knows, but it’s worth saying again.

I hear my voice tense, as does my body as I continue. “I hate them both for what they did. I spent years trying to come to terms with the result of their actions knowing I had no power to change it.”

“I know,” she answers.

“You do?”

“Not before, but I do now. I’ve thought about why you did what you did.”

“And?”

I can’t hold back any longer. My hand drops from behind her and I allow my finger to run just beneath her jaw. It’s a small gesture, but it holds so much power over me, it’s nearly unnerving.

Her quick inhale of breath is her only visible reaction.

“The reasons I wanted to hate you are the same reasons I can’t help but love you,” she says simply, shrugging off the most sincere words I’ve ever heard her speak. “If you hadn’t done what you did, why you did, I wouldn’t be here.”

With my mind at rest and my heart full of a happiness I never thought I’d experience again, I let my eyes drop to Lucy’s lips. They curve at the ends, tipping up as God only knows what races through her mind.

“Kiss me, Lucy,” I request.

When her gaze falls to her lap, the sudden relief I’d just felt falls, as well.

“What is it?” I question. “Tell me.”

“You can’t help me anymore. Financially, it has to be me providing for Dillon.”

“Okay,” I agree, but not without hesitation.

“You can be in his life as much or as little as you want, as long as you understand he’s most important.”

“I already know this.”

She pushes forward, still without looking up. “I mean it. I can’t worry he’ll get lost in you.”

She’s overthinking.

“Lucy,” I address, hoping to slow her thoughts so I can tackle one at a time.

“I mean, I get lost in you. I am lost in you. I don’t want that for him.”

Clearing my throat, I try again. “Lucy, sweetheart, look at me.”

“Not that it’s a bad thing…you know, getting lost in you.”

“Right.”

“And my mom…” She sighs, continuing to say those things she still obviously needs to get out. “She wants to meet you.”

Now it’s a smirk I feel on my lips. Lucy’s a wreck. It’s not something I’ve seen, other than the night of her dinner which, just that afternoon, she tried so hard to lie her way out of.

“My mom’s a little nutty. Batshit, actually. She’s…”

When Lucy finally looks up, my hand curves around the nape of her neck and I press my lips to hers with the powerful force she’s had to have grown used to by now. When the kiss is over, I regret not taking my time to truly taste her.

Her cheeks are flushed from what I assume is embarrassment as she gives me a sour look. “You did that to keep me quiet.”

“I did,” I casually confess. “How’d I do?”

Her lips purse, and she doesn’t look at me. Instead, she scans the room and those around us. Soon, her focus stops and her mouth opens before I can regain her attention.

“No way. Not possible.” She shakes her head feverishly. “No way.”

Now it’s me who scans the area. I don’t give it much effort as all my focus, all my life, is now sitting next to me obviously seething.

“Move,” she insists, hitting my leg with her hand. “Let me out.”

“What?”

“Let. Me. Out,” she hisses.





Lucy

THIS HAS BEEN A TYPICAL glimpse of life with Michael.

For the briefest moment, I believed we’d worked out our issues and would be able to move forward to whatever the future had to offer.

I forgave him as I should’ve. Afterwards, he listened to me rattle on as long as he could.

Then, as though some cruel and unusual twist of fate lurked, having a mind to interfere, I’m staring into the eyes of the woman I’ve grown to hate, but not only on my behalf. On Michael’s, as well.

“Mrs. Monroe, I never meant to–”

“You’re something,” I seethe as Victoria’s eyes turn to saucers.

She attempts to look around where we’re standing, but I’m too close. If I leaned in any closer, she’d smell the wine Michael ordered us to drink.

“You had an affair with my dead husband and now you’re trying to apologize for it?” I spit, saying the words I put together in my head for this exact moment. “Are you kidding me?”

“Lucy,” Michael’s voice reverberates in my ear. His arm is around my waist, holding me close to him from behind.

It’s a good thing or she’d have already been punched.

“I’ve regretted that decision all these years,” she tells me. “Now, I only regret Gabe died and I didn’t,” she confesses, watching my movements closely, looking as if she’s ready to run.

She should be running.

Victoria looks from me to Michael before her face turns from nervous to sad. “I was a different person then, but people can change.”

“Yeah, they can change,” I snip. “That happens when someone’s entire life is taken away…” I snap my fingers for emphasis, and she cowers in place as she watches, “like that.”

“I’m so sorry,” she expresses, her eyes filled with tears. “I was alone. I felt like I was alone all the time. Michael was a different man then. We were–”

“You were his wife!” I cry. “Gabe was my husband!”

Victoria’s eyes shut tightly, her body tensing. My words, although vicious in nature, are truth.

Clearing my throat, calming my voice to not add more to the scene for those in witness, I add, “Gabe was a father, too. It wasn’t only me you betrayed, but his little boy.”

Her eyes finally open. For the first time since she thought her apology held any weight, I see shame lacing them.

“Michael lost his son,” I remind her. “Caleb was his. You were a selfish person, a mother to a child who adored his father.”

Behind me, Michael exhales. I feel his breath reach my shoulder, his unsteady heartbeat on my back.

“He hasn’t healed. It’s taken years for him to move on from what your decision cost him.”

Now not only shame marks her features, but a look I recognize Michael once having. Pain, absolute and pure, breaks through above all else.

“I know,” she concurs, stepping back and clutching her purse strap for dear life. “I can’t change what happened. If I could…”

I realize, and not for the first time, that if someone had the power to change anything that happened in the past, I wouldn’t have everything I do. I’d still be walking around, merely content, married to a man I barely knew, and living a life so much less extraordinary.

Dillon would have his father, yes. But Michael knows Gabe’s son better than he ever did, and who knows what other outside distractions would’ve affected our marriage, namely Margret.

“Did you love him?” I finally ask the only question I’ve been wanting an answer to for so long. “Did he love you?”

“Yes,” she voices softly. It’s almost as though she doesn’t want to hurt me with her answer. “We loved each other.”

Michael’s low voice behind me sends chills down my spine. “Enough, Lucy.”

“How did you two meet?” I ask next, ignoring Michael, thinking I may as well have her side of the story since I’ll never have his.

Victoria pauses, pursing her lips in hesitation. “I met him years ago during a charity expo downtown. Afterwards, it was every so often we stayed in touch.”

Vividly, I remember the same expo she’s talking about. Gabe didn’t go to many. He never felt comfortable with the high-class types. Or so I thought.

Since I was pregnant, having morning sickness and lack of sleep, I had stayed back. I told Gabe to go on because it was important for his career to make an appearance and rub elbows with other law school students and lawyers who were going to be attending.