Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Sophia
I come downstairs. The house is quiet, eerily quiet. Penn had said his goodbyes last night because he didn’t want to wake me when he left this morning. I heard the door shut and then silence. After tossing and turning, I finally got up and started making coffee.
“And this is why I love you. The nectar of the gods,” Anissa says in a singsong voice as she walks into the kitchen.
I raise an eyebrow as I look at her disheveled hair. Very un-Anissa-like.
“What?” she says with a coy smile that gives the-cat-that-swallowed-the-canary vibes.
“You fucked Penn,” I state dryly.
She shrugs. “Maybe,” she says, drawing out the last syllable.
“Nis!” I scold.
“Oh, fuck off. You slept with Tate. And besides, when else could I possibly have a chance to sleep with the Penn Baker?” she asks, raising one still perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
“You’re incorrigible,” I grumble.
“Don’t worry. We are a one-and-done. He freaking ghosted me this morning. Didn’t even wake me up for a goodbye. So juvenile,” she says with a sigh, but then she grins. “But the sex was…fucking amazing.”
“Ewww…no. Just no. I don’t want the details, but I do want those sheets washed,” I state.
“Yeah, yeah. So, let’s talk more about how you officially called things off with Tate,” she says as I push a cup of coffee toward her. She takes it black, always has.
“It wouldn’t have lasted,” I say, trying more to convince myself than Anissa.
“You didn’t even try,” she protests. “And you seemed…happy in those photos.”
“Whatever. It’s over,” I say, willing myself not to cry again. I spent all last night crying, wanting to go down to the basement and tell him I was wrong and stupid and that I love him. But the fear of him leaving me, the fear of feeling unwanted, and unloved again is just too much. I don’t want another relationship where we try and try and it slowly falls apart, causing us both misery.
“I know what you’re thinking and you don’t know what would happen. It’s OK to be scared, but you can’t stop living your life out of fear. What if it works out? What if he is the one and you live happily ever after? I saw how he looked at you. I think you’re making a big mistake,” she says.
“Well, I think it was the right thing to do,” I rationalize, glancing away because I hate that her words could be true. It’s easier to think it couldn’t have worked out than to think it could have.
“I disagree. I think you got scared and decided playing it safe was the better option because you don’t ever want to feel again like you did when you and Mark split up,” she argues.
“OK, Freud,” I say with an eye roll. But deep down, I know she’s not wrong and I sort of hate that.
“Fine. But for the record, I think I’m on the right side of history on this one.” She sighs. “Come on. Let’s go get breakfast. It’s on me. I need to hear all about this trip,” she offers. “We’ll go to that hole-in-the-wall coffee place where everyone will leave us alone,” she adds.
* * *
“Mom, do you think Mr. Tate will come back to visit? He said he’d try to visit so my friends could meet him. He sent Dad an email at work and said something came up and to apologize to me, which is cool, but maybe he’ll come back, yeah?” Cal asks, his voice so hopeful.
I keep my back turned to him, my hands in a sudsy pan. I can’t bear to have him see the hurt in my eyes. I haven’t been serious with anyone since Mark. So, I haven’t introduced the kids to another man, ever. It’s made it easier when things didn’t work out because they were none the wiser. But now, it’s different. The kids have asked about Tate at least once a day for the last two weeks. I’ve explained that he’s busy and will reach out if he has time.
I can see the disappointment in their eyes and it kills me, maybe even more than the hurt I’m feeling, the hurt I caused myself. God, I was so stupid. How could I fall for him? It was never going to work out. Anissa is wrong. If he was the one , then I would have known that, right? Or, he’d come back for me. I remember his statement on the trip. He had said if he really wanted a woman, he’d chase after her.
And then there’s the film. Marti said Carol asked for some more time so that Tate can work on a contract, but with each passing day, I know it’s not going to happen even more than I did the day before.
“Mom?” Cal’s voice is closer now. I wipe a stray tear and turn to him.
“I don’t know, buddy. We’ll just have to see,” I say because it’s not a lie, and damn it, I can’t lie to him right now, not when he’s looking up at me like that, so innocent and hopeful.
“Well, I hope so,” he mumbles as he turns. Then he stops. “Can I have a popsicle?”
I can’t help but laugh at his change of topic. Thank God I have these minions because they bring some levity to my life. “Sure,” I reply.
He opens the freezer and grabs two. I give him a look and he grins. “Don’t worry. One is for Lizzie,” he explains as he scurries off and I roll my eyes.
I turn back around and watch as Cal runs over to the swing set and hands Lizzie a popsicle. My phone pings and I dry my hands and pull it from my pocket.
Penn: How’s my M?
I smile. I miss that fucker. He brings much-added humor to my life. He’s texted me every couple of days, seeing how I’m doing or telling me something funny that happened to him. I’m glad he’s kept in touch.
Me: I’m good. Just catching up on some cleaning this weekend. How are you?
Penn: (tired emoji)
Me: Don’t tell me you’re doing some crazy race or something.
Penn: (laughing emoji) Nope. Just got up early to surf and now am regretting it. (old man emoji)
Me: From one (old woman emoji) to one (old man emoji)—might I recommend coffee?
Penn: Noted. How are the kids? How’s Anissa?
I smirk. Subtle, Penn, real subtle.
Me: The kids are fine. Still excited they met you all. Anissa’s OK. She says her lady parts are still sore, but I’m sure she’ll get over that soon.
Penn: (smirking emoji)
Me: (angry emoji) You know you’re still in trouble for ghosting my bestie, asshat!
Penn: (puppy dog eyes meme)
Me: Not cute. You need to grow up! Don’t ghost women!
I see the three dots appear and then disappear and then appear.
Penn: It wasn’t like that. I had my reasons for leaving. Remember when you said that not being with Tate was the better thing to do for both of you?
Me: (angry emoji) Nope. You’re not allowed to steal one from my playbook.
Penn: Too late. Stolen.
Me: You’re incorrigible.
Penn: That’s a big word.
Me: I’m an author.
Penn: Oh yeah, how’s the next book coming along?
Me: Nice subject change.
Penn: I know, right?
Me: You’re killing me.
Penn: Softly?
I smile even though I still want to pummel him. I see a text from Anissa.
Me: I gotta go. Go get coffee and stop ghosting women and sleeping with my friends.
Penn: Fine, M, but only for you.
I click over to Anissa’s text.
Anissa: I’ll be back in D.C. in two weeks. Let’s get together for dinner.
Me: Absolutely. The kids are mad that they missed you last time.
Anissa: I meant you and me, but I suppose your offspring are invited too.
Me: I’ll make sure to let them know Auntie Nis loves them.
Anissa: (middle finger emoji)
Me: Guess who just asked about you?
Anissa: Cal or Lizzie?
Me: Neither, they think Auntie Nis is a beotch who doesn’t want to have dinner with them. Penn.
Anissa: Well, tell them I love them anyhow and Penn can eff off.
Me: Sure. (side smile emoji)
Anissa: (rolling eye emoji)
I put my phone in my pocket. There’s a knock on the front door and a minute later I hear a key. Mark.
After we separated, we made a rule, he could still have a key but he has to knock first. I admit, I’ve become lax about it in recent years as our relationship has morphed into a better friendship.
“Hey,” he calls out as he walks into the kitchen.
“Hey. They are out back eating popsicles,” I say.
“Not here for them,” he answers.
Frowning in confusion, I turn to find him standing in the hallway watching me. I lean against the counter and cross my arms.
“What’s up?” I ask.
He motions to the kitchen table and we both sit down. Shit, something must be up because we only have a sit-down talk for serious conversations.
He takes a deep breath. “I’m going to ask Taryn to marry me,” he says. “We’ve been talking about it. She just wants a simple courthouse wedding with just our immediate families, her parents, brother, and the kids…and you, if you want to attend.”
“Really?” I ask, surprised they’d want me there.
He nods and reaches out, putting his hand over mine. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
I shrug. “I figured this was coming. You guys have been together for almost two years now,” I state.
“I know. It’s just…I still love you. I’ll always love you,” Mark says, squeezing my hand.
“I know. And I wish things could have been different, but…” I trail off.
He pulls his hand back. “I thought you had finally found someone,” he admits. “Don’t let the fact that we”—he motions between us—“couldn’t make it work, ruin it for your future relationships. Not every relationship ends. They can last a lifetime. Look at our parents,” he points out.
I hate that he’s right. And I hate that my ex is here giving me a relationship pep talk.
“OK, enough awkward conversation. You want to say hi to your kids,” I suggest as I point toward the backyard.
“Sure. But, Soph,” he says as he stands, “please consider being open to another relationship, even if it’s not with Tate.”
I feel tears threaten. God, we’ve come so far from where we were four years ago. And I hate admitting that I love having him as my friend. And I also hate admitting he’s right. Too bad it’s too late for Tate and me. I swallow down my tears as I follow him into the backyard. Maybe it is time to put myself out there again. If I can just get over Tate, then I’ll get back out there again.