Chapter 15—Willow
Ignoring Bobby is actually pretty easy. We might live in the same building, but we’re on different floors.
I still can’t believe I agreed to it. Did I agree to it?
It gets a little fuzzy when I think back to that conversation last Sunday.
Somehow, when I think about it, all I remember is what he looked like.
What he said… what we spoke about? Yeah, that’s not the part I remember.
We also have separate work hours. And with the girls and me now living on the other side of the river, taking them to school is so much easier.
As well as less time spent in the car and more time together.
Something I appreciate immensely, as I still have moments of heartbreak at least once a day when I think about what was lost in the fire.
The things we have now are great, but it’s hard not to miss the memories tied to those items.
Another aspect that keeps me from Bobby is our communication.
While key to the project, it’s only done through email.
The only meetings we have in person are on Fridays.
Which is today. And it’s set for lunchtime.
The last meeting—well, our first and only so far—had us going out to lunch, which I assume is his plan going forward.
But… I’m confused. Not about lunch, but about him. Bobby.
I miss him.
Which is stupid. I’m a grown woman. A mom, even.
I take care of two amazing little girls and teach them how to handle their emotions daily.
And yet I can’t figure out my own. Bobby is…
well, he’s hot. Incredibly handsome, something I’m sure he knows.
But he’s also smart and funny, and frustrating.
He takes charge without a second thought and fights me on everything, but only on things that would make my life easier.
Why do I fight back? No clue, other than it’s not in me to give up.
That’s not true. I fight back because I didn’t with my ex.
I let him take over, and soon I was nothing more than just an extension of him.
There was no me. Not until I had Ivy and realized I wasn’t someone I wanted her to see and become.
I wanted her to be strong and independent.
Then Lily came, and I saw all that Trevor took from me.
All that I let him take. I was compliant to the point of being submissive.
But not the kind of submissive that’s taken care of and respected—I was treated like an expectation and nothing more.
A slave in my own home, living a life of being seen, not heard, and keeping up appearances of every aspect of our lives to say something that wasn’t true. That we were happy. That I was happy.
It was all a lie.
Trevor might have stepped out on me, but I was already trying to figure out how to get away. His affair led me to getting the girls almost exclusively without the guilt of breaking up the family. He did that. In a way, what happened was a blessing.
A blessing I will never repeat. I will never again become a shell of who I am.
That’s probably why I push so hard with Bobby. I don’t want to be drawn in by fancy, sparkly things. I like to think I’ve grown from who I was last time.
The brown-bag lunch I picked up as I made my way to his office is proof of that.
But I’m also not ungrateful for what he’s given me, which is why I made enough for two.
It’s not fancy, but I’m not going to be rude.
If he has lunch available, I’ll politely decline and eat what I brought, proving to both of us that I’m capable of taking care of myself.
And on the off chance I read this whole lunch-meeting thing wrong, well, at least I can share with him so I don’t look rude eating alone.
I wait at the elevator, but the moment the doors open for me to go inside, I pause mid-entrance.
“Hey, Marco.” I’ve also been avoiding him. Not that he confuses me. He’s just a part of Bobby, and I expect one to be with the other.
“Willow, just the person I was coming to see,” he says with a nod, moving back to allow me to enter.
“Really? Why? Did the meeting get canceled?” I make to take a step back, but he pulls out his badge, swipes it, and pushes the button for the ground floor just as the door closes.
“No, just a change in location.”
I feel my lips twitching into a smirk. “Another Da Nonna’s meeting?” I can’t help but chuckle. It seems to be a go-to for Bobby. And I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to turn down their food for my homemade turkey sandwich.
“No. Bobby was pulled into something at three this morning, and it’s still going wrong. He has to stay on-site but doesn’t enjoy moving meetings. He’d prefer if you came to him so he can keep the focus on the other task without breaking stride.”
“Oh, of course.” 3:00 a.m.? No wonder I haven’t seen him. If he keeps those hours, I bet only the bats catch sight of him most days.
We exit the elevator and head to the waiting car. But unlike all the other times, Marco doesn’t drive, sitting in the back with me instead. Not next to me like Bobby, but across from me in what the girls call the “spaceship” part of the vehicle.
He doesn’t pay me any mind as he takes out his phone, and I don’t let it bother me. He probably has a million other things to do than come get me, but I’m not complaining about the company. Even if it’s in silence.
I look out the window and let the city life lure me away from everything else going on to just thinking about Bobby.
I swear I can smell him in the vehicle. A spicy scent in the air, almost like cinnamon, touches my nose.
Similar to what I smell when he’s nearby.
It’s not off-putting, but it sends tingles down my spine with each inhale.
I might not have seen Bobby this week, but I’ve felt him every day. Not just at the office, where I see his determination in every aspect of the building, or in the car rides where he keeps me and the girls on time, but in my home—in the smiles of my girls.
We lost so much. Bobby called it out right away. My ex took some, the fire took the rest. So much has been taken from us, but we’ve still prevailed. We’ve still smiled and found ways to laugh. And now? Because of him, we can do that again.
Soon, we’re pulling up in front of an exquisite hotel, and Marco escorts me up to a ballroom that’s in mid-flurry.
People rushing one way to the next. Carrying things and hammering others.
I almost get hit with a cake tray before Marco maneuvers me around the activity.
I’m being pulled forward as I look around at everything.
“What’s going on here? What are you guys hosting?” Based on the silk tablecloths on half the round tables that seat about ten each, this is definitely something more than what I thought.
“It’s my parents’ wedding anniversary. Well, next week it will be.”
My head whips around at Bobby’s smooth voice.
There he is. The man who’s taken up more space in my head lately than anything else—besides my girls, of course.
Do you know how hard it is to concentrate at work when you aren’t able to focus on actual work?
Very hard. I’ve had to redo things so many times I should be fired.
Thankfully, no one has noticed my errors but me, and I’m not about to out my own mistakes.
“Oh, how many years have your parents been married?”
“This would have been their fortieth if Dad hadn’t died.” He pulls out a chair next to him. It’s the only table with nothing on it except the tablecloth and two chairs. As well as a cup of coffee and a Diet Coke.
“What did you bring?”
I’m confused by all his words, but his last ones more than the others, until he points to the brown bag still in my hands.
“Oh. Lunch.” I hold it up like it’s some kind of prize, but it’s nothing more than a sandwich and chips.
“Great.” He takes it from me and gives it to Marco before dismissing him.
“Marco hasn’t eaten all day. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.
” He takes his seat next to me, then snaps at someone across the way and waves them over.
A moment later, a dome-covered dish is set in front of each of us before the domes are removed.
I snort when I see what’s in front of me.
“What? You don’t like cheeseburgers?” Bobby asks before dipping a fry in the dollop of ketchup on his plate and munching on it.
“I’m American—of course I like cheeseburgers. I just never thought I would be served one in such a place….” I gesture around as if that explains everything.
Bobby just shrugs and keeps eating.
“Why is your mother celebrating her wedding anniversary if your father died? And I’m sorry for your loss.
Losing a parent is hard.” I leave out the part that I know from experience, but from the small crinkles by his eyes, it’s clear that he’s already aware.
His glasses hide little when he chooses to show something.
“Thanks.” He wipes his mouth with his napkin as if to signal the end of any talk of emotions he might have for being down one parent.
“And she does it to celebrate that she got to know him at all. Each year it gets bigger than the last. This time we’re doing an auction and using the money for a charity Mama wants to donate to in his name.
That, and it’s Halloween. She likes to throw a party, and why not combine the two?
It gives people an excuse to dress up, and the guests usually feel guilty enough for having a good time at these things, which should be more solemn, and tend to give larger donations. ”
“Is that why you’ve been here all morning? Marco said you were up pretty early to deal with all this.”