Chapter 55
Erica
M arco looks pensive as we walk down the sidewalk toward the café.
I’m sure he’s thinking a hundred different things and I wish I could ease his mind.
He was the last person I thought would be showing up tonight.
As much of a sticky situation it was with my brother being there, I’m happy for the surprise.
I’ve missed him, and I can’t help but feel he missed me too.
He did after all, come home early, and by the looks of it, he may have come directly from the airport.
“Sorry about my brother,” I say softly, after our bout of silence.
“Oh, it’s okay,” he says, but I can tell something is bothering him.
“I didn’t know he was coming over tonight.”
“It’s really none of my business.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, trying to get some sort of hint of what’s going on in his head right now.
I wanted us seeing each other again to be so much more than this, but now it’s tainted by whatever inner turmoil he’s going through.
I wish I could hug him, feel the warmth of him against me, showing him how I feel.
“He came to congratulate me, you know…”
Marco stops and looks at me curiously, his head tilted to one side.
“For the promotion.” I smile up at him.
“You took it?” he asks, and the excitement in his voice wraps around me like a hug.
I nod. I signed the contract at the end of my workday.
It took a few hours to get over the shock of everything, but I knew I would be a fool not to take it.
I deserve it. The years I’ve put in at the paper.
The dedication. The love I have for it. I know there’s no one better for the job, and the fact that Marco sees that makes it that much better.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks.
“I was waiting to tell you in person. I thought you were coming home tomorrow, but then…here you are…”
He looks like he wants to hug me and all of me wants him too, but instead he stops himself and holds out his hand.
I look down at it like it’s some sort of foreign object, my brows drawing together.
But then I remember he’s my boss. This is the formality of a promotion.
This is why people don’t mix work and pleasure… and kids.
I take his hand, but it feels anything but business-like.
It’s gentle and his hand envelops mine easily, the roughness of his palms comforting against my own.
Everything in my body is aware of how his hand feels in mine.
My eyes meet his, warm and inviting, like a cup of hot cocoa and a snowy winter day.
“Congratulations,” he says with a smile that tugs at the corner of his lips.
“Thank you,” I say. “For giving me the chance.”
“You deserve it.”
I’m lost in that smile, in his belief in me.
My gaze slips to his lips and linger before falling to the sidewalk—before I let myself do something that could very well complicate things.
I need to know where we stand and where we’re heading before I get lost in a kiss.
I know I’ll never come up for air again if I do.
“Shall we celebrate?” he asks, looking up at the glowing sign of the café.
“I’d love to.”
He opens the door to the café and lets me step past him into the small space.
It’s perfectly cozy with mismatched booths and dim lighting that makes you want to order a cup of coffee and slightly strain your eyes to read in a corner booth.
It’s one of my favorite places to come when I need to decompress.
“Wow,” says Marco, looking around.
“Pretty great, right?” I say knowingly.
“I didn’t know this place was here. It doesn’t look like much from the outside.”
“It’s my little secret.”
“Thanks for sharing it.” He smiles down at me.
The hostess greets us and leads us to a booth in the back. As we walk, Marco puts his hand on my lower back leading the way. He hasn’t touched me like that in a while. It feels so simple, but intimate. This is the celebration I wanted. Just him and me.
We settle into a patchwork booth that’s wrapped around a warm oak table with an eclectic scattering of tealight candles flickering in the center.
Out of all the places we’ve been, galas and work events, this is probably my favorite one.
It’s intimate in a way the other places weren’t, and it’s just us two.
Marco studies the menu from across the way, and instead of studying my own, I’m looking at him. He’s physically perfect, so much that it pains a small part of me. I don’t know why he’s here with me. He could have anyone.
“What’s good here?” he asks, looking up and seeing that my eyes are already on him.
I blush and quickly look down at the menu. “Um, the coffee is stellar. And the pastries are out of this world.”
“Pastries and coffee it is.” He closes his menu.
“For dinner?”
“Why not?” He shrugs.
I laugh and sit back against the booth. When the waitress comes by to take our order, Marco orders every pastry on the menu and two cups of coffee. If this is a first date, it’s winning. A first real date.
When I look at him again, he seems to be in his head again.
“What is it?” I ask gently.
“Hmm?”
“What are you thinking about?”
He furrows his brow and looks at me intently. “Why did you introduce me to your brother as your boss?”
“You are my boss,” I say, avoiding what he’s really asking.
“But I’m also Josie’s father…”
I take a deep breath and look down at my hands in my lap. He’s asking questions he should be asking, but I’m not sure I’m ready to answer them. Yet, I know I have to. We’ve been pretty bad at communicating, and if I want this to work, it’s time to let go.
“I haven’t told my family that her father is back in her life…”
“Or that it’s me…” he adds softly, and I hear the pain in his voice, which makes me feel so much worse.
I shake my head solemnly, thinking back to when I had to tell my family I was pregnant.
I had done a pretty good job of hiding it for the first two months, but then I was running out of excuses for how tired I was or how much time I was spending in the bathroom.
I was also running out of ways to camouflage my bump that was beginning to show.
I remember the night I told them. I had arrived for dinner at my parents’ house upstate.
My brother was already there. He was the one to notice first. He gave me a strange look when I politely declined a glass of champagne, his eyes drifting to my midsection.
My heart sped up in my chest, thumping violently.
My mother must have noticed his strange look in my direction because her eyes followed his gaze to me and her mouth dropped. She let go of her champagne glass and it shattered at her feet, causing everyone to jump. My father demanded to know what was going on and I had to tell them.
Telling them I was pregnant wasn’t the hard part.
Explaining that I didn’t know who the father was made me want to disappear into the floor.
For my parents, a very traditional couple, it shattered them like the champagne glass still at their feet.
It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, and we are still not healed from it.
We mostly keep our distance now, except for holidays.
I don’t know why I didn’t tell them the truth.
It seemed easier to pretend I didn’t know than to bring Marco into it.
Knowing my father, he would demand a paternity test and go after him for money and make everything that much messier.
I didn’t want to deal with all of that, and I didn’t think I could handle Marco rejecting us with some sort of payoff.
Josie deserved better than that. So, I lied. To everyone.
“When I found out I was pregnant, and that you were the father, I was scared,” I say, looking down at my hands. “I was so scared you would not want anything to do with me or the baby. I didn’t know how I would handle that rejection, or having to explain it to her one day…”
“I would never do that,” he says, reaching for my hand underneath the booth.
I look up at him, fighting back the tears that burn at the back of my eyes.
“I know that now. At least, I think I do. But back then…” I wipe a tear from my cheek.
“It was easier to keep it a secret, even though it damn near broke my parents’ hearts.
It was just another thing I did to disappoint them.
They probably think it’s my mission in life to do everything against their wishes. ”
“Why didn’t you tell them?”
“Because my father would never let it rest. He’d go after you with attorneys and make a mess. I didn’t want to go through that.”
Marco nods like he’s starting to understand, but I know part of him never will. I know he’s hurt by everything I’ve done. I wish I could go back and fix things, knowing who he is now. Even so, my father is still my father, and he’d probably still make a mess of things even now.
“It got easier to build a world with just Josie and I in it. Where I could keep her safe. But…”
“But what?” he asks, his hand still on mine, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement.
“I didn’t realize how lonely it was until you came back into my life.”
He reaches up and wipes away a tear from my cheek with his thumb, but doesn’t remove his hand from my face. I lean in to it. He looks just as sad as I feel.
“Do you ever plan on telling them about me?” he asks, his voice no more than a whisper.
I stay silent for a moment, not wanting to feel the absence of his hand against my face when I tell him my answer. I want to stay here in this little café, looking at each other and not having to face all the complicated truths.
“I don’t know,” I say finally.
He gives a solemn nod before slowly taking his hand from my face. I can see the heaviness he feels fall like a dark cloud over his features, and I regret the words that have hurt him like this. But they’re true, and it’s time I’m honest.
“But I want you to be a part of Josie’s life. I do,” I say adamantly.
I know he wants more, though. I just don’t know how to give it to him if I don’t know where we stand. I’m so damn scared to fall when there’s so much at risk. When Josie is at risk.
“You can come up tonight,” I add quickly. “Put her to bed.”
Marco just shakes his head slowly. “That’s okay. I’ll wait for another night when your brother isn’t there. I’d hate to complicate your life any more…”
“Marco…” I start, but his hand is already leaving mine from under the table. I’m losing him.
When our coffee and pastries come, we barely eat them, picking at them in silence. This is not how I wanted the night to go. I wish I wasn’t so damn scared of my feelings for him. My fear is pushing him away when all I want is for him to stay.