Chapter 11
In a way only you can be
Alexander
I look at the way he’s gripping the ice cream pint—the paper nearly buckling under the force of his fingers—and I don’t need to be a clairvoyant to know he’d rather be doing the same to my neck.
“Alicia!” Cecilia says when she spots her daughter, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “How was dinner?”
The girl beams. “You look so pretty in that dress, Mom.”
“Thank you, honey.”
Feeling his eyes on me, I glance back at the stronzo.
His jaw is clenched so tightly it looks ready to crack.
Shoulders rigid. Breathing clipped. And his eyes.
.. those are the real spectacle. He tries to keep his attention on Cecilia and Alicia.
But it never lasts. Every few seconds, inevitably, his gaze slips. And it always, always lands on me.
I don’t speak or move. I don’t even bother to look threatening. I’m simply standing here and the man looks one heartbeat away from exploding.
“Dinner was good. Sophia couldn’t make it, so it ended up being just me and da— just the two of us. We went to that burger place Ethan loves. The one nearby.”
Cecilia nods, smiling gently.
Her daughter’s attention moves to me, as if she’s only now realizing I’m standing here.
“Do I know you?” she asks, brow furrowed.
Cecilia smiles as she says, “This is Alexander. We met him last year in the Hamptons, remember?”
The girl’s gray eyes widen in recognition. She nods. “Oh! You brought that delicious fish Mom cooked for us—and you had that really cute dog, too. What was his name again?”
I let a small smile lift at the corner of my mouth. “Sam. I remember he liked you a lot.”
She smiles at that. And for a moment, the tension eases.
Despite looking so much like her father, save for the color of her hair, there’s something in her that is undeniably her mother.
Cecilia gestures toward the stronzo. “Colin, I’m not sure if you remember Alexander. Alexander, this is Colin, Alicia and Ethan’s father.”
He tightens his grip on the cup so violently the ice cream spills over his hand and onto the sidewalk. He curses under his breath.
“Excuse me,” he mutters through clenched teeth before turning his back on us and heading toward the ice cream shop two doors down, barely holding himself together.
Cecilia gives me an apologetic smile. I return one of my own. Letting her know I’m not the least bit rattled by his theatrics.
“What are you doing here, Mom?” Alicia asks.
“Uh... a studio nearby. We were taking a dance class.”
“Really? Did you dance?” Her tone is skeptical.
Cecilia laughs, shaking her head. “See? Even she knows dancing isn’t my thing.”
I let out an amused breath, something between a laugh and a sigh.
“She’s being modest. Your mother was incredible.”
Alicia’s attention snaps back to me. “You were there too?”
“Yes,” I reply.
And Cecilia adds, “Alexander knew that it was something I wanted to try and was kind enough to invite me today.”
“Oh...” Alicia says, looking from her mother to me.
I notice the stronzo returning, and the moment our eyes meet, he’s glaring at me like he wants to set me on fire with his stare alone. It’s all right there on his face, the hatred for me, yes, but also the hatred for himself.
Because if I’m standing here with Cecilia now.
.. and if I just spent the best forty minutes of my life with her in my arms. If we’re friends now—and I have even the smallest chance of being in her life, of trying, of hoping.
.. I owe that entirely to him and his stupidity.
His carelessness and inability to recognize what he had.
If I had to guess, deep down, he never deserved her.
He breaks our stare first, turning to Cecilia.
“I can drive you home,” he says, his tone sharp before he tries to soften it. “I was already taking Alicia after the ice cream. You can come with us.”
“No, thank you.” Cecilia’s voice leaves no room for negotiation.
She turns to her daughter. “I came with my own car. I’ll see you at home, okay?”
She kisses Alicia on the cheek, gives Colin a polite nod, and starts walking away.
I extend my hand to Alicia, and she takes it with the one not occupied by her melting dessert.
“It was a pleasure seeing you again, Alicia. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
She smiles and waves. “Bye.”
With one last glance toward the stronzo, I walk to where Cecilia is waiting a few steps ahead.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” I say. She nods.
I resist the urge to place a hand on the small of her back. The way I did earlier, without thinking. But I won’t do that now, not with her daughter possibly watching.
Cecilia’s car is at the beginning of the street, around the corner. When we turn left, I glance back instinctively—and he’s standing there, frozen in the same spot, staring at us as if the world is slipping out from under his feet. Alicia says something to him, and only then does he turn his head.
We reach Cecilia’s car, and she stops in front of the driver’s door.
“Sorry about that,” she says, motioning vaguely toward the street behind us. “Whatever that was.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” I say, and it’s nothing but the truth.
We stand facing each other, caught in the moment. She gives me a small smile.
“Thank you again. For today.”
I take her hand, lifting it to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.
“You can always count on me,” I murmur, meeting her eyes. “For all your new experiences.”
Cecilia smiles, and the moment I release her hand, she turns to open the car door. But I move first, stepping ahead and pulling it open for her.
She sits behind the wheel and I hesitate, my hand resting on the edge of the door. “Can we see each other next week?” I ask. “Lunch... or maybe dinner?”
She looks through the windshield, then back at me.
“I would like that.”
I lean down and brush a quick kiss to her cheek. Then I step back and close the door, watching her as she drives away.
Cecily
I’m just about to pull into the garage when Colin parks right in front of the house and Alicia hops out of the car. That part is normal. What isn’t normal is him getting out too.
I pull into the garage anyway. Through the rearview mirror, I see Colin standing at the entrance, clearly waiting for me.
I exhale, long and tired. Grab my purse. Step out of the car. The moment I close the garage door and face him, I ask, keeping my voice even and, as always, thinking of my children first,
“Do you want to arrange something with Alicia for this weekend?”
He looks at me with that impassive expression he thinks hides everything, but his eyes betray him; there’s no way to miss the barely contained fury.
“What were you doing with that man? Are you two seeing each other? Is that it?”
I ignore his questions. “If you don’t have anything to talk about regarding Alicia or Ethan, I’m going inside. Good night, Colin.”
He catches my wrist before I can step past him, but the moment I turn to face him, he drops his hand as if my skin burned him.
“You were dancing together, weren’t you? I heard your conversation with Alicia.”
“That is none of your business, Colin.”
His fists clench, the veins in his neck pulsing with every frustrated heartbeat.
“I saw the way he touched your face. The way you—how you... you looked at him. I saw.” He spits it out, his control slipping with each passing second. “I saw you two before Alicia noticed you were there, he had his hands on you!”
His voice rises with every word, letting his jealousy and entitlement twist into one ugly outburst.
I draw a breath, refusing to give him the reaction he wants. Summoning a patience I do not feel, I begin. “Let me ask you something, Colin.” I keep my gaze on his. “A year ago, back when we were married... in July... where exactly were you at this hour on a Friday night?”
His jaw ticks. He knows what’s coming.
“Because I can tell you without a doubt where you weren’t,” I continue. “You weren’t at home. You weren’t sitting at the table with me and our children. You weren’t being a husband or a father.”
Refusing to look away, I keep going. “You were doing what you shouldn’t, with someone you shouldn’t. July is when your relationship with her began, when your nighttime trips to her apartment started.”
The confirmation that the words land where I intended is in the fury in his eyes, yes, but I can see more underneath it. The guilt. The truth he hates to look at.
“Colin,” I say firmly, “I don’t owe you an explanation about my life.
And months ago, I signed a piece of paper that made that perfectly clear.
The only time you’ll hear about my personal life is if I ever decide to introduce someone to our children.
Until then, my life is my own. You don’t get to have everything you want, whenever you want it anymore. Not from me.”
His nostrils flare and his hands clench and unclench endlessly.
“If the conversation isn’t about our children,” I finish, “then there is nothing we need to discuss.”
He drags both hands through his hair, turning his back for a second before facing me again, eyes no longer furious, but pleading.
“Ceci, I need to know. If you’re seeing him—I need to know. Please... whatever is happening, I have to know. Why him?”
I shake my head and adjust my purse strap.
“No, you don’t,” I say, keeping my tone even.
“If and when I’m with someone else, and I’m not introducing him to our children or making him a part of our lives, you don’t need to know.
If and when I choose to be with another man, that isn’t your concern.
It’s a part of my life you no longer have any right or access to. ”
His expression hardens at that, becoming colder. Defensive.
“You two had something before, didn’t you?” he says, his voice tight with accusation. “That’s why you greeted him the way you did at the gala. All that story about a neighbor bringing fish, that was just a cover.”
I take a step back, caught off guard. After everything... after everything he did... he dares to say this?