Chapter Thirty-One
Dani
Alec was here.
In person. At the symposium.
Alec was here , with Stephanie, his extraordinarily pregnant wife who, wearing flats and a simple black gown, managed to look more elegant than any person of royalty I think I’d ever seen.
The two of them stood at the entrance to the bathroom hallway with identical looks of open-mouthed surprise on their faces, which, if my inability to move my jaw was any indication, perfectly matched the expression both Jase and I wore.
Jase, whose arms I was still in after he’d told me he wanted to dance with me, only I’d heard something entirely different in those words, felt it in his kiss, just before Alec—his brother and my ex—interrupted.
Alec was here .
How was Alec here?
And why?
I was about to come to the conclusion I’d been hit in the head by one of the protestor’s signs and was having a concussion dream, but then Alec managed to speak again, and it was enough to convince me he was, in fact, real.
Real and standing in front of me.
For the first time since I’d broken up with him nine years ago.
“Dani?” He sounded as shocked as I was. Made sense. It was about the only thing that did right now.
“What are you doing here?” Jase asked. His voice had gone as stiff as the rest of him, all his warmth from a moment ago gone.
Alec’s mouth moved a few times before words came out. “My insurance company is a donor for the clinic. My boss couldn’t make it tonight, so he asked if I wanted to go. When I found out your restaurant was catering, I said yes. I tried calling to tell you, but you never answered.”
Stephanie squeezed his hand and pointed toward the ladies’ room. “I have to…”
Alec’s face softened as he looked at her. “Yeah, of course.” He squeezed her hand back, then released it. “I’ll wait right here.”
She flashed Jase and me a sympathetic smile, and if she wasn’t so far along in her pregnancy, I’d wonder if she was trying to escape the avalanche of awkwardness currently burying us alive. But I had no doubt the tiny human inside her was probably jumping on her bladder like a trampoline. If it wouldn’t make things a thousand times weirder, I’d escape with her.
“Why didn’t you leave a message?” Jase asked.
Alec’s shoulders rose to his ears. “I thought it’d be a fun surprise. I didn’t think…” He gestured to me. “I mean, how…?”
“I work at HBC,” I explained. “I planned the symposium.”
“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I didn’t know that.”
“My boss was the one in contact with your boss.” I’d handled the panelists directly, but Talia had been the one to manage the donors. “There was no way you would have.”
The silence stretched between us, as heavy as the humidity outside, thick enough to choke on. A moment later, the bathroom door creaked, and Stephanie reemerged, sidling back beside Alec, her fingers lacing with his.
I glanced at Jace, trying to get a read on where his head was at, but his eyes were fixed on his brother.
I ached to take his face in my hands and force him to look at me. To pull him somewhere private and have the talk we’d both known was coming. The one where we laid all our cards on the table and decided together how we would move forward.
It was supposed to happen after the symposium. Not now. Certainly not here or like this.
But there wasn’t time for that conversation now, either. Not with guests arriving, and paint on my dress, and speeches about to start.
I steeled myself with a breath and turned back to Alec and Stephanie. “Let’s make sure you two find your table. I’ll have name tags made up for you. Any food allergies for us to be aware of?”
Stephanie gave a grateful smile. “No, none. Thank you.”
I extended my hand down the hallway. “Right this way.”
They headed toward the ballroom, and I followed, glancing behind me to where Jase still stood, hands clenched in fists, red paint smeared across his crisp white shirt, a different kind of storm in his eyes. One he was already lost in.
I didn’t let myself focus on it. Not while I got Alec and Stephanie seated or when I officially introduced myself to her. Based on the lack of confusion on her face, I assumed she already knew who I was, but I didn’t focus on that either.
I didn’t focus on it while I changed out of my paint-stained dress into the simple black sheath I’d brought as a backup in case a drink spilled or I fell victim to a tray of wayward food. Paint hadn’t been on my list of possibilities, but at least I’d been prepared.
I didn’t focus on it the rest of the night. Not when I went into the kitchen to check on how they were doing and found Jase with his chef jacket half buttoned over his dress shirt, suit pants still on as he cooked on the line next to Zach, his eyes never once leaving his task.
Not when Director Gardner gave her speech, thanking everyone from our board to our panelists to our donors for making not only this event but also our mission possible, mentioning Talia and myself by name, and giving a special shout-out to Jillian and her incredible restaurant team.
And not when Robin came to me with an update from Geffery that the protestors had dispersed and it was safe for guests to leave out the front doors.
Somehow, the night passed, and I made it through, conversing with donors, overseeing volunteers, and sharing a hug with Talia, who whispered in my ear, “Nicely done,” in a way that brought tears to my eyes. The final donation amount hadn’t been totaled yet, but I knew we’d reached our goal. The donated paintings alone had gotten us nearly halfway.
In most ways, the night had been perfect. Exactly what I’d imagined it being three months ago. As the last of the guests departed, telling me how much they were looking forward to the event again next year, it didn’t feel surreal like most of my successes had up to now.
Mostly, I just felt tired.
Across the lobby, I spotted Alec and Stephanie waiting for the elevator. His arm was around her shoulder, her head on his chest as she leaned against him in a picture of contentment. They really did look good together. And after seeing them tonight, it was obvious it was more than just how they looked.
They worked. Fit in that way most couples hoped to fit but so few seemed to truly manage. The way that appeared easy, but you could tell from how they talked and interacted with each other was built on years of trust, communication, and effort.
I watched them and waited, bracing for the gut punch of jealousy to slam into me. For the self-doubt to sneak up, always a hair short of regret, that had me questioning every decision I’d made since college, wondering about the trajectory of my life.
It never came.
There instead was recognition of a life that never belonged to me. Not because I wasn’t worthy of it but because it never would have made me happy.
Not the way they were together.
Not the way I knew I could be.
That was the thought that dragged the sliver of unease up from where I’d buried it all night. Because for once, I knew what I wanted, straight down to my gut.
I wanted to go home with Jase and fall asleep in his arms. I wanted him to take me to his parents’ house so his family could meet me— this me, the me I felt at home in. I wanted us to go on more dates and order entire menus and compete for which of us Baxter cuddled with more.
I wanted us to work. To fit. To bicker and argue and talk it out and make up. To always be the place we could be real, no masks.
But that future wasn’t up to just me. And no matter how willing I was to navigate the storm, there was always a chance of being thrown overboard.