Mack Daddy(40)

He threw his keys on a small table in the living room. “This is it…the house I bought for Jonah and me. It’s definitely a lot of space for just the two of us, but I wanted to give him a real home.”

It reminded me of the types of houses my friends’ families had growing up. While my mother and I always lived in apartments just outside of Boston, many of my friends lived in houses on quiet streets with big backyards.

I walked around quietly, running my fingertips along the surprisingly homey furniture. Mack was always two steps behind me as he followed my path.

“Did you decorate this yourself?”

I could practically feel his voice vibrating against the skin of my back. “It was already furnished. The couple who sold me the house had just gotten a divorce. They went their separate ways and left everything here. They had a couple of kids. So, I’m basically living in the memory of someone else’s shattered life. It’s pretty ironic,” he joked.

“That’s kind of sad,” I said, making my way to the large, bay window that was just behind the couch. As I gazed out of it, Mack stood behind me. The closeness of his body gave me goosebumps. He wasn’t touching me, but I could still feel him as if he were.

The sound of his low voice gave me the shivers. “Did he leave this morning?”

“Yes. How did you remember?”

“I’ve had it marked on my calendar ever since we went to Castle Island.”

I turned around to find his stare was burning into me. He leaned in, causing my heart to start beating rapidly. “What was up with that text from you, huh?

“What about it?”

“Do you really think I came to Boston to hurt you all over again?”

“I don’t have a right to tell you who to fuck. I’m with someone.”

“Do you have any clue what hearing you even say the word fuck does to me?” He moved in closer, causing my nipples to stand at attention. “I would never do anything to hurt you. Do you understand? I have no interest in that woman. Would she have let me fuck her in the pantry while the boys were playing? Yes. You don’t think I know that? But do you really think I’m here to fucking hook up with the mothers at the school? Is that the kind of person you think I am? Because if it is, then I have a much bigger fight on my hands than I originally thought.”

Closing my eyes to fend off my body’s reaction to him, I whispered, “What do you want, Mack?”

“I want this week,” he said without hesitation.

“This week…”

“I want you to give me this week. Every day after school, I pick you up. We spend time together, talk, work through what happened with us, maybe have a little fun in the process. We use this opportunity to get to know each other again. No expectations, except getting a little bit of the time we lost back. It’s all I’ll ever ask of you. Just give me this week.”

Mack stopped speaking, but his eyes were still pleading with me.

My boyfriend’s words from this morning rang through my head. Victor was giving me a one-time opportunity to figure things out, and Mack was offering me essentially the same. I needed to do this.

“Okay, Mack.”

His eyes widened. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

He let out a relieved breath that I felt against my lips. I couldn’t deny that I wanted to taste him probably more than I craved anything. I’d never gotten a chance to do that. We came close to kissing once from what I could remember—the last evening we were together. We’d gotten drunk that night, so my memory of it was hazy.

Mack’s voice interrupted my chain of thought. “There were days, Frankie, when I might have temporarily forgotten about some of the many conversations we’ve had. I might have even had trouble remembering exactly what you looked like at times. But not for one second, have I ever forgotten how you made me feel—that connection that we had. It’s a feeling I have never been able to replicate. I miss it. I miss you. So fucking much.”

Shutting my eyes again, I let those words sink in. “Where do we start?”

“We get the hard part over with. We start by talking about what happened the last night we were together. And what happened after.”





PAST

The last few days of the end of the semester came way too quickly.

It was Friday, and my flight back to D.C. for the summer was scheduled for Saturday afternoon. Frankie and I had decided to blow off work, since it would be my last full day in Boston before we wouldn’t see each other until fall. Even though we weren’t talking about our impending separation, there was a certain melancholy in the air. We were both being fairly quiet during breakfast.