Chapter Fourteen
The summer heat licked at my exposed back as I pushed myself up the far side of Central Park. My feet struck the pavement quietly, and I dreamed of the iced coffee waiting for me at the end of this run.
I wasn’t always a runner…
When I lost the baby and my body had healed but my mind was still stranded in disbelief, my therapist suggested I try it. At first it was a futile effort, the solo exercise leaving me alone with my destructive thoughts. But after a while, I thrived in the moment. Kickboxing came next. And between the two, I began to gain composure, quieting my mind and controlling my despair.
I’d crafted a life around my fitness and work. I’d never be a mom or a wife again, but I was good at my job and building a small circle of friends and spending time with family. Paps and I had dinner every Sunday after Jeremy walked out, and we continued to do so even after I lost the baby. My parents didn’t understand how I could be so upset with the generous settlement I received, and went about their lives as if I wasn’t suffering. They’d told me to suck it up and enjoy my windfall—I couldn’t even believe they raised me, let alone created me.
My sister had been with me during the stillbirth, forcing Rachel out. Ashley only put up with me as long as she could take; she was young and wanted to live life. I bogged her down—her words.
Thankfully there was Rachel, who stood by my side, came over to watch movies, and rubbed my back when I needed it. When I first started to run, she’d join me occasionally, dragging me for coffee afterward, which turned into brunch or lunch or dinner. It was in this tiny cocoon that I healed.
I was mostly happy, except for the nagging need to understand the secrets Paps had shared with me. To me, the discovery was the special sauce for my own long-term happiness.
Recently, I’d leaned on Rachel again. We had dinner a few times in the weeks since Mack ran out on me…again. I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad luck, but my parents had recently reached out, wanting me to visit. I’d declined. They had no idea what I was up to, and I didn’t plan to tell them.
Today, dependable Rachel was back to Frankie duty, meeting me after my run like in my hellish days when my life fell apart.
I’d regretted pushing Mack into my never-ending chase. He’d only been hurt in the process, and I never wanted him to be collateral damage. The guilt gnawed at me as much as the knowledge of the mystery armoire, and all of the above started to play mind tricks on me.
“Let it go, Frankie,” Rachel told me over my iced vanilla latte. “He’s a grown man. He’s fine.”
We strolled outside the coffee shop, cups in hand. “I can’t. I mean, there was so much happening. We had a real connection, and I felt like he was also vibing with my mission. But then, I don’t know…he wasn’t.”
She peered over her giant hot coffee at me. “Don’t you think he may have been humoring you a little with a mission? I’m sorry, I hate to be a Debbie Downer, but it seems like a waste of time for a rich bachelor like him…to be into all that.”
I sniffed back some sweat, thinking carefully. “He said as much. At first he thought it was trivial, but then he got into it. He even remembered the furniture store. I don’t know, something spooked him and it’s my fault. I hate disappointing people or adding to their pain. You know this.”
She took my hand and squeezed, “Frankie, babe, maybe it’s a sign. Like it’s time for you to date. Put your grandfather’s love life behind you and worry about your own. You liked Mack, you will like someone else. A blessing, as my bubbe would say. Your heart will love again.”
I felt my head shaking side to side while an ache settled further in my heart.
“It’s okay to want love for yourself.” Rachel side-eyed me, not willing to look me straight in the face.
“I’m not you. You put yourself out there,” I admitted. Rachel was divorced too, but had no kids and was enjoying the dating life at thirty-six. “Maybe those two years make a difference. At thirty-eight, I’m plain old.”
“They don’t. Look, Mackenzie Miller is a catch, but he doesn’t want to be caught. He’s elusive. He read your letters, introduced you to this Connie character, and let you know his grandma continued to carry a torch for your Paps. Why else would she go to the store? It’s enough, I think. They were in love but it was forbidden. There you have it.”
The sun was high overhead, making me feel warm, yet a chill ran down my spine when she said forbidden. Like Mack, I didn’t understand how something like that could be tolerated.
My errant thoughts were saved by the bell—my phone dinged. Every time a text came through, the same icy-hot feeling invaded my body. Of course I always thought it might be him. It had been two-plus weeks since we’d been in the Hamptons.
He’d texted once to apologize and another to say he was off to London again.
Now, I yanked my phone out of my running armband to see who was bothering me on a Saturday.
I’m going to Westchester tomorrow. I have to grab something at the house. Do you want to see the armoire?
That was all he wrote—as if we’d been chatting regularly over the last several weeks and he didn’t ditch me in the Hamptons—yet my heart rate was through the roof. The thing was, I didn’t know if it was because of Mack or the prospect of finding out more about Rosie and Paps. The two had become so intertwined, and I couldn’t figure out if I was falling for Mack or felt certain ways because he held the keys to more information. The former spoke to me; I was into Mack for more reasons than one. Except he was a train wreck, running away when he got scared, afraid to face reality. And also hurting because of me. The entire scenario was a crash-and-burn if there had ever been one. Maybe because Mack wasn’t meant to be caught, like Rachel said… Everyone knew I was stubborn though, and when I wanted to believe in something, nothing deterred me.
“Well, who is it?”
I looked up to see Rachel staring at me. Shoving my phone away, I couldn’t lie, so I said, “Him. He wants to see the armoire tomorrow with me.”
“Well, there you go. Another information-foraging date with the man. Hope you get what you want because if he deserts you again, I’m going to ban him.”
I didn’t doubt that. When Rachel put her foot down, she was not movable.
Part of me wished she would ban him now because whatever was blooming between us wasn’t an annual. It was a perennial, in season, and would be dead by the first frost.
“Morning,” he said, holding the car door open for me.
I nodded.
“I’m sorry,” he said when he got in the car.
“Save it. You have said that to me so many times, it doesn’t mean a thing. I’m sorry this, and I’m sorry that…” I turned to face him. “You know what?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” His mouth quirked…damn him.
“I want to slap that smirk off your face. The last thing you are is a wet noodle. You’re Mackenzie Miller, a powerful man who doesn’t do commitments. So just stop with the ‘I’m sorry’ every minute. If it gets the slightest bit deep or heavy, you cut and run. Let’s keep this simple—I want to know about my Paps and you’re helping. No feelings needed or required.”
He kept his gaze on me, taking my lashing, allowing me to finish.
My chest felt heavy with memories I didn’t want to be having, and pain I’d suppressed long ago. “In case you forgot, I had a man leave at the worst time possible. Sever ties, and leave his baby for freaking good. He didn’t know she wasn’t going to make it. The thought of a family was just too damn deep for him. I’m not looking for any of that BS anymore—”
He snatched my hand in his and caressed my fingers. “Shh.” He silenced me with his commanding tone. “You’re right, I’m not a cut and run type, as you put it. Yet that’s exactly what I’ve done. You know why? Because the only woman I ever truly cared about was Milly…until you. You pull me in without knowing it, and I push you away, unable to control how I’m feeling. I’m trying, but you have to understand I don’t like the lack of control.”
I sighed and he squeezed my hand. It might be New York’s best-kept secret—this man was broken beyond repair.
“Mack,” I managed to breathe out.
“I did have to go back to London,” he cut in. “Their department stores can be very demanding, and we are trying to play nice since we are opening a perfumery there. We don’t want them to see it as competition, so there have been many talks. And the Westchester store is our model for London, the layout and all that. And while it being broken into wasn’t because of the design, it reflects poorly on the brand. Luckily, it was a multi-store incident at a mall, and the person of interest was apprehended.”
I nodded, thinking how quickly he’d changed subjects. This man really did like controlling the dynamic.
“A girl? You were having a little girl. I’m so sorry that happened to you.” His hand was back on mine, soft eyes focused on me, and his tone gentle and compassionate.
The way he’d whipped back to what I said made my head hurt from the change in emotional altitude. I’d missed a few therapy sessions, and I was thinking it was time to schedule an emergency appointment.
I looked toward the front, and Alex was fully concentrating on the road, taking us to Mack’s childhood home.
“A girl,” I confirmed. “I planned to name her James for Paps and Dad. It wasn’t in style to use James for a girl when I was born. She was a beautiful baby, even though Ashley said she looked like an alien…”
“Oh, come on. An alien? Who would say that?”
“My sister. She’s younger, and a bit of an oddball. Flighty, but she was with me during the birth, and she did her best to be supportive in a way she didn’t really know how to be.”
“Does she live in New York?”
I shook my head, saying a nonverbal prayer that we’d moved on from my baby who never lived a day…
“She’s in Scotland, my sister,” I explained. “Fell in love with a bartender when she went over to visit about six years ago, and rarely comes back. My parents have been to see her once, and she came back when Paps passed, but I need to visit her. At first she was helpful. But eventually she felt I was too needy after the whole divorce and baby. She said it was time for her to put herself first. I get it. I’d made what I thought was my dream life and it consumed me. And then it fell apart, and it took over even more.”
“I hope she’s happy,” was all Mack said, keeping it simple.
“My parents are going back for Christmas and they want me to come. I haven’t decided. They also want me to date, so I don’t really do much of what they want.”
I wasn’t sure why I admitted the last tidbit, but I did. Maybe as a safeguard, letting Mack know he was in the clear with me?