15. nix #3
I pinch the toasted bread between my fingers and lift the bruschetta to my mouth.
At the first bite, my tastebuds zing with the tartness of the cherries and the honey-sweetened ricotta.
A low groan makes its way from my gut and rumbles over my lips.
Abbi watches me intently while a small smile plays on her lips, as if she’s thrilled at my response …
as if she prepared the appetizer herself.
The tastes are simple, yet decadent. They remind me that I came from a simple background, where food was basic …
enough to fill our stomachs and keep them full for as long as possible, while Abbi came from a household where she often dined in fancy restaurants and enjoyed decadent food much like this.
And while this restaurant is far from being Michelin-star rated, it’s certainly more than I ever could have afforded in the early days of our relationship.
I glance around us, young and old, couples and friendship groups enjoying a meal together.
Laughter and chatter fill the air around us, and yet tension fills my body.
I don’t feel—have never felt—like I belong in an establishment like this one.
I’m shunted back to being the poor kid who lost his father when he was eleven and then pretty much lost his mother because she had to work two shitty jobs to keep a roof over our heads and basic food on the table.
“When we were younger, I would see people eating fancy food in amazing restaurants like this one and wish I could afford to take you to one.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can temper them, and by Abbi’s wide, startled eyes, I can tell she’s as surprised as I am by my words.
“I swore I’d work hard to be able to afford the nice things you deserved.
” I swallow my pride. There’s no going back now.
I don’t think I’ve ever shared my financial insecurity with Abbi.
I shake my head as a derisive huff leaves my lips, and I wave my hand around the restaurant.
“I may be able to afford to take you to nice restaurants and buy fancy food now, but I’ve lost you in the process. ”
Her startled eyes soften, and I watch her throat bob before she drops her gaze from mine.
The smile that touched her lips a few moments ago has slipped, and her shoulders slowly climb toward her ears.
I’ve made her uncomfortable. Something I excel at lately.
I didn’t intend to talk about this until further into our meal, hopefully when we were more relaxed with a couple of drinks under our belts.
But I’ve started now. It’s what Harry says I need to do, so I plow on.
“You wanted for nothing growing up. A fancy car, fashionable clothes, a beautiful home with a hotel-worthy swimming pool. I knew I wasn’t good enough for you, and your parents reminded me any chance they got.
” Her brows scrunch together at the mention of her parents.
“I knew I couldn’t give you all of those things, but I was determined to work hard so I could give you everything you deserved and more.
” Abbi’s hand slides across the table and methodically uncurls each of my fisted fingers to slip hers in between.
I welcome the small show of support and continue.
“We never used to be as poor as we were when I met you. Dad held a decent job, and Mom worked part-time while we were in school. We couldn’t afford extravagant things, but we got by, and I never felt like I was missing out.
” I swallow the sawdust in my throat and follow it with a swig from my beer.
The reminder of losing Dad is always a deep ache that won’t go away.
Even all these years later, his absence hurts when I think of all we lost as a family, what his death led to.
“Hudson and I did our best to pick up some of the slack, taking on odd jobs, but we were kids. Our options were limited.”
“I remember how impressed I was that you held down the paper route and mowed the lawns of all your neighbors, as well as kept up with your schoolwork and football practice,” Abbi says, a touch of awe in her voice.
“I’ve always known you had a strong work ethic.
” She smiles softly, squeezing my fingers.
We watch each other quietly for a few moments while I try to sort through my thoughts.
The server interrupts, his brows drawn tight and lips pursed. “Is there a problem with your appetizer?”
Abbi and I both look down at the platter, and embarrassed laughs leave both our lips.
She’s the first to look back up at the waiter.
“No. Uh … we’re sorry; we got caught up talking.
Can we please have a few more minutes?” She shoots him her winning smile, the one I fell head over heels for, and I know she’s going to get what she wants when the tension falls from his features.
“Of course. Take your time. I’ll tell the chef to hold your mains for a little longer.”
“Thank you so much.” She looks across at me, something unreadable on her face. “We appreciate your patience.”
He tilts his head a little. “Certainly, ma’am.”
Once he’s gone, Abbi returns her attention my way while nudging the appetizer toward me. I take a piece of cherry bruschetta, gesturing for her to do the same. “You still have an incredible work ethic, Nix. It’s something I admire about you.”
I laugh derisively. “Yeah, look where it’s gotten me. Almost divorced.” I shake my head, suddenly not hungry as my stomach folds in on itself at the painful reminder.