Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
“How was St. Lucia?” My dad stabs his fork into his teriyaki bowl. He chews a cauliflower floret and looks at me, expectant.
My dad, Camryn, and I are seated at a trendy restaurant, the kind with an exposed ceiling and patterned floor tile. He and Lara are remodeling their house, and he has been tasked with going to new places trying to get an idea of his design preferences.
“Beautiful,” I answer, covering my mouth as I chew. “Paradise.”
He sips his iced tea. “Gabriel back at work?”
I nod. “Yep.”
He digs for another bite. “I bet it’s not easy to start a twenty-four-hour shift right after getting home from vacation.”
“Very true.”
Camryn gives me a weird look, and I stuff in another bite so I have an excuse not to say any more. I haven’t told her anything about Gabriel. I’m ashamed, and embarrassed.
My dad is like a dog with a bone. “Any details you want to share?”
What happened in one night there has overshadowed the entire trip, so I tell them about the first few days. I detail the excursions, the color of the water, and the glass-bottom boat tour and how I threw up over the side of the boat.
I have no desire to tell them about Gabriel. I don’t want to worry them, and more than anything, I don’t want their view of him to change. I also don’t want their view of me to change.
Turns out, Avery and Gabriel’s storied romance isn’t so magical after all.
“What about you?” I turn the tables on Camryn. “What’s up?” Using my fork, I gesture from me to my dad. “You asked us to lunch.”
Camryn pushes away her half-eaten plate. “Well,” she starts, folding her hands on the tabletop. “You know Danielle?”
I stare at Camryn. “Your roommate Danielle who has been your best friend for years and is about to graduate from dental school? Yes, we know her.”
Cam clears her throat. “Danielle prefers to be called Dani.”
“Noted.” I nod.
Cam takes a deep breath. “And she’s my girlfriend, not my best friend.”
Dad’s fork pauses in mid-air. “You’re gay?”
“Lesbian,” Cam clarifies.
“Since when?”
Camryn’s gaze flicks to me, then back to our dad. “I don’t think you want me to answer that.”
He blinks twice, long and slow, then looks away. “Jesus.”
“He’s not here right now,” Cam says.
I bite back a laugh. “Actually, He’s everywhere all the time. Omniscient.”
Camryn sends me a grateful look, and I wink at her.
Dad gazes across the booth at me. “Did you already know?”
I shake my head. “No, but the writing was on the wall. They’re always together, and neither of them has had a boyfriend in years.”
Dad holds up a finger. “Cam had a boyfriend last year. Damon?”
Guilt shadows Cam’s eyes.
“Did you ever meet Damon?” I ask my dad gently.
“No.” Understanding lights his eyes. “Damon wasn’t real?”
“I’m sure he’s real to somebody,” Camryn says around her straw.
I deliver a kick to her ankle. She laughs.
“Are you mad, Dad?” Camryn acts nonchalant and makes a lot of jokes, but deep down she cares about what our dad thinks of her. About what I think of her.
Dad puts an arm around her shoulders. “Nah. Kind of relieved, actually. I was starting to think you were going to be single forever.”
“Happily attached,” Camryn announces.
“Does this mean you’re going to have kids? Or not?”
Cam rolls her eyes. “One thing at a time, Dad.”
Dad looks at me. “What about you? I’m not getting any younger, and I want to be the kind of grandpa who wrestles with his grandkids.”
“I’ll talk to Gabriel about it,” I answer, crunching through an ice cube. I’m trying damn hard to be flippant, as if the idea doesn’t feel like a hot knife in my heart.
“You’ll have to do more than talk if you want to give me grandkids.”
I pretend to vomit. “Please don’t say that ever again.”
He whispers something in Camryn’s ear, then excuses himself to the restroom.
“What did he say to you?”
“He called you a prude.”
I look up at the ceiling and shake my head.
“Did something happen in St. Lucia?” Cam’s tone is uncharacteristically gentle.
If I was going to tell anybody, it’d be her. Even so, I can’t bring myself to do that. I am consumed with managing Gabriel’s image, of the face we present to the world. And so, even to the person who knows me best, I say, “Everything was great.”
I’m lying to her, but the person I’m lying to most is myself.
I’ve placed Gabriel on a pedestal he didn’t ask to be on, and now I’m experiencing his fall. I won’t tell him what he’s doing is hurting me, because I’m protecting him from my anger.
My dad rejoins us, settling into his seat and pressing a flattened palm on his thigh as he leans forward. Something about this familiar mannerism pushes at me, and I’m struck by a realization I don’t like.
Gabriel is not the first man I’ve protected from my feelings, even when he deserved them.
I have done all this before.