Chapter 21 #2
It wasn’t Tristan’s fault he played it all the time around her. How would he know she didn’t like it? She never voiced her opinion on the matter.
The drive to The Castaway took less than fifteen minutes, but in that span of time, Frankie found herself taking a fearless emotional inventory so exhaustive it left her drained.
She watched the scenery roll by—the green pines and orange hues of the gathering sunset.
Her mind wondered how many times she’d excused away this exact dynamic between herself and Tristan.
How many times she’d convinced herself that needing to be noticed, heard, or considered, even in small ways, was a character flaw instead of a basic human desire.
She told herself that their relationship was built on deeper things, that her appearance didn’t matter to him, and that she didn’t need to hear she was pretty.
That her preferences regarding music, movies, and restaurants were insignificant.
She convinced herself she had Zee for those things.
That friendships were the place to share commonalities or to make concessions, not romantic relationships.
She’d spent years gaslighting herself into believing that wanting a compliment was the moral equivalent of vanity and that the only way to prove her worth was to never ask for anything.
Those were lies.
Her eyes closed, and her entire body tingled, remembering the way that Liam’s eyes had scanned her from head to toe when she’d walked out of the bathroom and she’d felt it like a physical touch.
Sure, she’d been wearing only a bra and underwear, but how many times had she walked around in the same state of undress, or less, in front of Tristan, and he hadn’t even noticed.
It wasn’t just the way Liam looked at her, though that alone was enough to send her heart into arrhythmia, it was the way he’d made her feel seen.
The way her stomach had done somersaults when he’d noticed the bruise on her hip and his thumb had brushed over it before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her with such reverence.
The way he’d not only put her mind at ease but also given her one of the best compliments of her life when she’d felt so nervous about going into his niece’s birthday party and he referenced her favorite movie, Keeping the Faith, saying that, “God was showing off when he made her.” Or when he kissed her up against the wall like his life depended on it when she believed he’d regretted spending the night with her because of her.
When he made upgrades to Yaya’s house, so she was safe.
When he ran and picked up the jeep so it would be parked outside when she woke up.
Remembering—no just knowing—what her favorite flowers were without her ever telling him.
It wasn’t just the words he said or the way he looked at her and how touched her, it was that he knew every part of her, the way he treated the people she loved like they were also important to him.
It was his actions. In a matter of days, Liam made Frankie feel more seen, more desired, more… loved than Tristan had in eight years.
How was that possible?
“Frankie!”
Tristan’s raised voice cut through the crowded and loud voices that were in her head. She blinked as she spun to look at him.
“What?”
“Were you listening to me?” he snapped.
His question instantly caused her entire body to tense. It had been a point of contention in their relationship that she ‘zoned out’ or ‘drifted off’ too much. She knew it was rude, and she really had tried to stop doing it, but she couldn’t help herself.
Her imagination had always been extremely active. It was her safe place. She did get lost in her own thoughts a lot of the time. Sometimes that was a good thing, a lot of times that was a bad thing. If overthinking was an Olympic sport, she’d take the gold every year.
“Why did you love me?” she asked him.
“What?” He glanced over at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Why did you love me?” she repeated the question.
“Why did I love you? What is this, some sort of trap?”
“No, it’s not—”
“Is this some sort of test? You know I don’t like tests.”
“It’s not a test.” She sighed. “Fine, why did you ask me to marry you?”
“Where is this coming from?” he barked defensively.
“I’m just curious,” she kept her tone light and calm.
His fingers opened, then flexed on the steering wheel. “I’ve known you my whole life. I trust you. I know you’re not just after me for my money. My mom loved you.”
“Yeah, those are not good reasons to ask someone to marry them.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying you loved me as a friend, for all the reasons you just said. But you were never in love with me. How could you be? You didn’t know me. You don’t know me.”
“What are you talking about? Of course I know you! I just said I’ve known you my whole life.”
“What are my favorite flowers?”
“This again? Seriously?!”
“I’m not fighting with you.” She knew this was coming out wrong.
“I’m trying to tell you that it’s good that you cheated on me…
because we were idiots. My need to make the best of things and make everyone happy and you wanting to marry me because I represent your home, when your life was safe and happy before you lost your mom, would have been the biggest mistake of our lives.
We probably should never have gotten together, but we definitely should never have stayed together. We haven’t had sex in—”
“Yeah, and whose fault is that?”
“I’m not saying it’s anyone’s fault. I was going to say, I didn’t even notice. And you didn’t bring it up.”
Frankie waited for his rebuttal. He always had something to say, but this time, he didn’t reply.
She continued, “We were friends. We are friends. I don’t want us not to be friends, so I think we should just be honest. We should never have gotten engaged. We weren’t in love with each other.”
Before he could respond, they pulled into The Castaway’s parking lot. Dr. Sterling and her mom were standing close to the valet area. Strings of fairy lights twinkled along the eaves of the old log-cabin-turned-restaurant, and laughter drifted out over the gravel lot.
As the valet rounded the driver’s side door, Tristan turned to Frankie, leaning over the console, his hand cupping her face.
To anyone on the outside, it would look like a sweet, intimate moment between an engaged couple.
“Can we shelve this? Please? I’m so sick of serious relationship talks.
After what Petra did, I think I deserve to have a good night. ”
Frankie nodded, smiling as she suppressed her irritation that, once again, he was playing the victim card.
When she agreed he kissed the tip of her nose, which only increased her agitation.
It might be a sweet gesture from someone else, but she’d always felt it was borderline condescending coming from Tristan.
Just another in the long line of red flags she’d missed because red flags look pink when you wear rose-colored glasses.
“Thank you for being here!” Cora wrapped her arms around Liam.
“Of course.” He closed his eyes and allowed himself to absorb the maternal warmth of her hug. She’d always been like a second mom to him, and now she was legally going to be taking that spot. “You look beautiful.”
She took a step back, and his arms fell to his side. She placed her hands on his cheeks as she stared up into his eyes. “How are you? Really?”
“Good.”
Her eyes searched his, and he could see that she wasn’t convinced.
The truth was he had been good. He’d been great, actually.
The only reason he wasn’t now was because of his asshat of a little brother and the unresolved feelings he currently had for her daughter.
The ones he’d stupidly allowed himself to act on and now didn’t know what to do with them.
When he arrived at the restaurant, he had the unlucky privilege of pulling up behind the two of them and seeing them huddled together through the rear window. He was forced to watch him kiss her, even if it was on the nose. He wanted to puke.
“Frankie told me that you finally met your sisters.”
“I did.”
“And you’re an uncle.”
“I am.”
“I bet your nieces and nephews love you.”
“I love them.”
“Are you sure okay with this?”
It depended on what “this” was. If she was asking him if he was okay with Frankie and Tristan, then fuck no, he wasn’t, and he didn’t care about Frankie not wanting to upset her mom, he wasn’t going to lie to Cora and tell her he was.
“With what?”
She lifted her hand, revealing the impressive solitaire diamond sitting on her ring finger.
“Oh, that… yes.”
“Really?” she questioned.
“I want you to be happy. If he makes you happy, then yes.” Liam was much more protective of Cora than he was of his dad or the man he grew up thinking was his dad.
“I know things are strained between the two of you, but he loves you. He misses you.”
“He has a funny way of showing it.”
He braced himself for her to defend his father, to tell him that the phone goes both ways and that Liam was an adult and just as responsible for their relationship being estranged as he was. But that didn’t happen.
“I know,” she agreed. “It’s wrong, and I’m so sorry.”
He blinked, staring down at her, waiting for the “but”, but one never came.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” She started to leave, but as she turned, something niggled at his mind. It was the way she’d worded her question about him meeting his sisters, as if she already knew he had sisters. “Cora.”
She turned, looking over her shoulder.
“Did you know?” he asked. “About my biological dad?”
The expression on her face told him the answer before she responded. “It wasn’t my place to say anything.”
“When did you know?”