Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
I wake up with the hangover of all hangovers.
Even with the curtains drawn, it feels like the faint light coming from the slight gap where the curtains don’t quite meet is stabbing my eyeballs.
With a groan, I throw my comforter over my head, but even the groan hurts my aching brain.
Jesus, how much did I have to drink last night?
Stupid Chad.
I can’t really blame him for the decision I made to make a stupid drinking game out of his actions, but with my hangover making my skull feel like someone’s using it for a drumbeat, I decide he deserves partial blame.
My mouth feels thick and dry, and I’m hit with the urge to drink something, but I really don’t want to get out of bed. With another groan which I regret instantly, I throw the covers off and push myself up to sitting. The room spins briefly and my stomach churns with queasiness.
I think I’m going to be sick. I push up and dash to the bathroom, making it just in time to empty whatever was left in my stomach into the toilet. Sagging back against the side of the bathtub, I wipe my mouth with some toilet paper. Staying seated on the floor sounds like a solid plan until I’m certain my stomach is settled. Once I’m sure nothing else is going to come up, I push myself up to standing and brush my teeth to get the thick, cottony feeling out of my mouth. A shower sounds incredible right now, but first I need aspirin for this headache.
Walking out of the bathroom, I stop in my tracks when I notice the glass of water, two little pills, and a note on my nightstand.I pick up the note first, and my cheeks heat with mortification when I see it’s from Romel.
Take these and then come over to the main house when you’re up. I’ll make you a hangover breakfast.
I don’t know what a hangover breakfast is—my friends and I usually just got Del Taco when we were drunk or hungover because it was open twenty-four hours. I close my eyes as pure embarrassment throttles me. I don’t remember anything after Romel showed up outside the club. I barely remember walking out of the club in the first place.
I need him to know I’m not that irresponsible. Last night was the first time I’ve ever gotten so drunk outside of a couple times when we got plastered at a frat party near our dorms. But in those situations, I’d always been with friends and could walk home. Last night was next level irresponsible because I was with people I didn’t really know, apart from Addy. I can only imagine what Romel thinks of me now.
I toss back the aspirin and drink most of the water before I get in the shower. Once I’m showered and dressed, I’m starting to feel marginally better, but dread still curls in my stomach at the thought of facing Romel. I have no idea what I said or did after he picked me up, and I’m not sure I want to know. I’m humiliated enough that he saw me shit-faced.
Reluctantly, I slip on my sandals and walk over to the main house. Romel’s already in the kitchen when I slide open the back door, and the smell of bacon instantly hits my nose. He looks up at me at the same time my stomach grumbles.
A small smile forms on his face, and now my stomach clenches for a whole new reason. God, I swear this man’s smile is my kryptonite.
“Morning,” I say, giving him an awkward wave and then I briefly close my eyes and take a deep breath. I need to be an adult about this. When I open my eyes, he’s already watching me. There doesn’t seem to be judgment on his face, but there’s something I can’t quite name. At least he doesn’t look angry, and I’m not getting that blank expression I hate so much. “I’m sorry about last night. I’ve never gotten so drunk like that, and I hope you know I’m not normally that irresponsible.”
He sets down the tongs he was using to move the bacon from the sheet pan to a plate with a paper towel on it. “You’re allowed to go out and have fun, Meredith. I’d be a hypocrite if I judged you for that. I’ve been shit-faced myself plenty of times when I was in college.”
“But I’m not in college anymore,” I point out. “And I don’t want you to think I’d ever be irresponsible around Kay.”
“I’ve never thought you would.”
I nod. “Okay, good.”
This conversation is going way better than I was expecting. I wince. “I didn’t say anything embarrassing last night, did I?”
His gaze turns thoughtful. “You don’t remember everything?”
I shake my head with regret. “The last thing I remember is getting in the car with you. ”
He looks down at the counter, and for a second it seems like he’s disappointed.
“Did something happen?” I ask cautiously.I hope to God I didn’t say or do anything horrendously embarrassing.
When he looks up at me, his expression is a bit more distant than it was before. “No. You fell asleep in the car and I carried you to the guesthouse. You were still passed out when I put you to bed.”
I cover my face with my hand. On the one hand, I’m grateful I didn’t say anything—like admitting how much I like him in a way that is completely unprofessional—but on the other hand, I’m still ashamed I got so drunk, he had to carry me to bed.
“Here,” he says, picking up a plate of cheesy eggs, buttered toast, and adding three slices of bacon to it. He sets it down on the counter in front of one of the tall stools and I take a seat and dig in. He pours me a glass of orange juice and then turns around to pour a cup of coffee which he sets next to the juice.
My mouth is full of delicious food, so I can’t ask him if he’s got any milk or sugar, but apparently I don’t need to because he pulls out a bottle of my favorite hazelnut coffee creamer. I swallow my bite and then stare at him in disbelief. How did he know this was my favorite?
That soft smile reappears and my heartbeat picks up the pace at the sight.
“Kay insisted we get your creamer when we were at the grocery store.”
My own smile breaks across my face. “She’s a total sweetheart, Romel.”
I don’t think I can tell him that enough because so often it seems like he thinks he’s failing her when it’s the exact opposite.
He sets down his own plate and locks his gaze on mine. “I owe you an apology. ”
“For what?” I hate how my voice cracks.
“For what I said to you after the aquarium.” He takes a deep breath, and the movement causes his chest to expand and his shirt to stretch across his pecs. I can see the outline of the rings he wears around his neck underneath the fabric. Now that I know they’re there, I can’t seem to stop noticing where they slightly lift his shirt whenever I see him. “Sydney has been with me every day since she died. I think about her constantly.”
What is it like to have a man like this love you that fiercely? Sydney’s life might’ve been cut too short, but God, was she lucky to have a love like this. A man like this one.
I hate that I’m jealous of a dead woman. There’s no point in feeling the emotion, but it still tangles up with my own feelings and knowing he’ll never allow himself to let her go enough to let someone else in.
“I didn’t think about her at the aquarium,” he says, his voice heavy with guilt.
I furrow my brow. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s the first adventure I’ve had with Kaylee where I haven’t imagined Sydney with us—haven’t thought about her at all.”
I shake my head, still not quite understanding why that made him react to me the way he did, but he speaks before I can ask.
“I enjoyed the day with you and my daughter and didn’t once think about my wife, and it felt like a betrayal to her.” He looks down at the counter when he says the last part like he’s ashamed of himself, or maybe just can’t look me in the eye.
My heart aches as I finally start to get it, and I reach my hand out and place it on his. He stiffens slightly, but doesn’t remove his hand from under mine. “I didn’t get the chance to meet Sydney, but I can’t imagine she would want you to feel guilty for enjoying a day with your daughter and not thinking about her. I’m sure she would understand. ”
He looks at me then with torture in his eyes. “But it wasn’t just with my daughter.”
We stare at each other as a heaviness settles between us. “You didn’t think about her because you were with me ?” I ask, trying to understand if I’m way off base here.
He nods.
What does that mean? My stupid, hopeful heart starts racing.
We stare at each other, the tension between us thickening, but before either of us gets a chance to say anything more, the front door opens and Kaylee’s voice shouts down the hall. “Daddy!”
We both pull our hands away as if the touch suddenly burned, and just in time since Kay comes racing into the kitchen seconds later, followed by Gabe Romero and a woman. Both adults dart glances between Romel and me. I try to calm my racing heart, but it’s hard when Romel squats down just in time to catch Kaylee as she runs into his arms, wrapping her arms tight around his neck.
She sees me and smiles. “Miss Mere!”
“Hey, KayBear. You hungry?”
She nods and squirms until Romel sets her down. She runs over to the stool next to me, and I help her up where she sits on her knees and grabs a piece of bacon off the paper towel, taking a bite with a big smile.
“Sorry if we interrupted,” Gabe says. He extends his hand. “We haven’t formally met. Gabe Romero. This is my wife, Danae,” he says, gesturing to the dark-haired woman next to him.
“Meredith. I’m the nanny.”
Gabe looks at Romel. “Awfully nice of you to make breakfast for your nanny.”
My cheeks flush. “Uh, yeah, I had a rough night,” I say, not wanting to be more detailed with Kaylee sitting next to me. “But greasy bacon is just the cure. And coffee. Can never have enough coffee.”
Danae smiles kindly at me, while Gabe keeps darting glances between Romel and me. “Coffee is definitely a necessity in our house too,” she says. “Anyway, we just stopped by to drop off Kaylee. Car seat’s by the front door. We’ll get out of your hair.” She grabs Gabe’s hand and gives him a look when it’s clear he wants to stay and say something.
He shakes his head and drops a kiss to her forehead that makes my chest ache. Do all these guys love their women as fiercely as Romel loves Sydney?
If so, I hope they all realize how lucky they are.
Because a love like that doesn’t come around every day, and unfortunately, I think for Romel, he’s convinced it can only come around once. Which means it doesn’t matter if hanging out with me made him stop thinking about Sydney, because I can tell by the torment in his eyes and what he said to me the following day that he sees that as a betrayal.
And I won’t push him to let her go if he doesn’t want to.