39. Jeanie
39 /
jeanie
Fabulous Fever Dream
The pool deck of the hotel has been transformed again, this time in a rendition of a luau.
Tiki torches outline every walkway. Onstage, a man wearing banana leaves performs a fire dance. Happy partygoers wear flower patterns and leis. Music booms over the sound system.
I spot Sophia in an elaborate high-back wicker chair, drumming her fingers on the armrest. Bridesmaids flutter around her, trying to comfort her. She appears distressed, but she’s not crying, which is a positive development.
“You’re here!” Sophia jumps from her seat.
“Sorry I’m late.”
I’m still unsure why she’s upset when she hooks her arm with mine and tugs me away from the group. She stops behind a catering tent where we’re alone. Perhaps this is the part where she gouges out my eyes for trying to steal her groom .
“That’s not the problem. That is.” She drags aside the fabric panel of the tent. From here, we can view the entire party. She singles out a petite brunette with bobbed hair who’s wearing a stunning red dress.
“Who’s that?”
“Natasha.”
“Your maid of honor? That’s great. She made it.” I meet Sophia’s gaze, but she still looks like she’s about to cry. “Fifi, I was only filling in. She can still be your maid of honor.”
“You’re missing it. Look closer.”
I glance around the draping fabric and that’s when I see him. Nathan stands beside Natasha. I tilt my head and study their actions. Her hands gesture sharply. Nathan shakes his head and inhales. They appear to be having an intense conversation, and neither of them looks happy.
My mind churns for a moment but then lands on the answer.
Natasha, Sophia’s missing maid of honor, is also Nathan’s agent. That’s why Nathan danced at Sophia’s bachelorette party.
How did I not make the connection before? I thought it was a coincidence—two people with the same name. Nathan and I never talked too deeply about the situation.
This is why Nathan came to the party without me. To see her.
Natasha’s demeanor softens. She places a hand on his arm and strokes, then moves close, whispering. What’s happening between them appears intimate. Nathan laughs like he can’t help himself, as if they’ve shared a private joke.
It’s a small action that could mean nothing—or everything.
Regardless of the answer, the heat drains from my cheeks. A knot the size of a coconut forms in my chest. My heartbeat pounds in my ears so loudly, I can hardly hear Sophia’s rambling. It takes a moment to decipher what she’s saying.
“I didn’t know they dated at some point, though technically, I don’t think you’d call it dating. Whatever their arrangement, they kept it a secret because of an image thing.” She goes on to say something about making Nathan appear single for fans.
All thinking halts at Sophia’s insider gossip.
“I’m so sorry to put you in this position.” She places a hand on my shoulder, snapping me out of my brain fog.
All of a sudden, I feel manic. Sophia is worried about putting me in a bad position with Nathan and his former bang-buddy? How about Sophia marrying my ex-husband and then making me her maid of honor?
The problem is I’m more upset about one incident than the other.
“It’s okay.” I suck in a long breath and stand tall.
“Really? I mean, this is awkward.”
“This is my life.” I laugh manically because there’s no other reaction that will do.
This entire trip has been a circus. My life is a circus, complete with an oversexed mom, a fake boyfriend, Freddie the freak show, a crazy ex-husband, random coffins, unicorn masks, and my monster-sized beef sandwich on wheels.
“He loves you,” Sophia says.
If she only knew how off her assessment is. Though Nathan and I had some very fun detours, this was always a charade. Except Sophia wasn’t the only one to fall for it—I did too.
I fell for him.
“It doesn’t faze me.” I lie to myself and harken back to Nathan’s sage life-coaching advice. I must act like seeing him with another woman doesn’t matter, like my heart didn’t implode with jealousy.
Not because he’s doing something wrong ... he’s not. It’s because seeing them together reminded me of something important. I could never be like Natasha, the younger, pulled-together type. I’ll always be a divorced, anxious, hot-mess mom, and the same crazed woman he found half-naked in an elevator only days ago.
“Let’s get back to the party.” I smile brightly, though the tears in my eyes betray me.
Sophia hugs me and then nods, even though she doesn’t look convinced. She guides me toward the bar, but along the way, someone tugs her into a conversation. When she stops to talk, I keep moving.
Alone, I make my way toward Nathan and Natasha. Oh God. Their names even sound the same.
From a server’s tray, I grab a Mai Tai and take a sip for liquid courage. The alcohol burns, causing me to cough. I set it aside and keep moving, focused on Nathan’s face.
He’s in slow motion like a movie. He’s smiling at Natasha with that special gleam in his eyes, one I thought was just for me. Instead, I realize he probably gives this look to all his ladies, probably his entire wolf pack of ladies. I was one of many. Nothing special.
“Jeanie!” Roman calls from somewhere in the crowd.
I falter when I hear my name.
Nathan’s attention turns in the direction of the voice too. Then he spots me.
It’s probably written on my face. I know who Natasha is to him, not only his agent but some ex-lover. The problem is, Nathan looks guilty.
I hate that the most because I remember that look. Roman’s given it to me a thousand times, and on the few times I saw him, so did my father. The look says I’m about to let you down, and everything we did means nothing .
Before now, I always fought for those I cared about, even when the sentiment wasn’t returned. Heck, that’s the entire reason I’m here crashing Roman’s wedding.
I learned the behavior from chasing my father. It was its own form of abuse and conditioning. He kept me on a string until there was nothing left to give. Before our divorce, Roman was the same way.
Could Nathan be capable of doing that too?
I stop in my tracks when a solution to all my problems presents itself. All rationality flees and my trauma emotions take over, leaving me with one possible course to follow—self-sabotage.
If I push Nathan away before he leaves me, it will hurt less, and less hurt is better. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t want to chase after someone who will never be mine. It’s a legitimate plan, something I can do to combat whatever it is Nathan and I have, or pretended to have.
Along the way, we turned into a romance-book trope. It was only a fake relationship with benefits. Even as I think it, I can’t be sure Nathan wasn’t a fabulous fever dream this entire time. Too bad we’ll never get our happy ending.
“Jeanie.” Roman touches my arm, and I turn away from the ridiculous thought of Nathan and me having a future together. “Didn’t you hear me? I need to talk to you.”
Wanting to get this out of the way, I allow Roman to guide me out of the party and onto the beach. I remove my shoes and leave them.
It’s windy. Storm clouds roil on the horizon. The lights and sounds from the hotel fade as we make our way past the dune line. Angry waves become louder, crashing hard with thunderous booms.
When Roman stops, I continue tramping toward the ocean, spreading my arms wide. I scream into the oncoming storm because I was stupid enough to believe there was more to life than what I’ve experienced in the last twenty years. It’s been a harsh lesson, but an important one. Maybe love isn’t for me.
In my mind, I find my old box, open it, wrap myself in the blanket of my insecurities, fold myself tiny, step inside, and close the lid. I decide I’m only safe when my heart is locked shut.
“Jeanie, what are you doing? Stop!” Roman’s voice finally breaks through when he clamps a hand on my shoulder.
“What, Roman?” I bark.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He takes my hands in his. “I said I was wrong. I thought I could run the beef shop alone, but then I thought about all you’ve done. You developed the recipes, the business plan, and the marketing. You even designed the crazy Beefmobiles. I was delusional to think I could function without you. I need you.”
“So, what? You want a business partner?” I chuckle darkly.
“Seeing you with Nathan made me realize how much I missed you. You’re brilliant, and I want you back.”
Before I can tell Roman what I think about his sudden change of heart, he forcefully wraps me in his arms and crushes his lips to mine.
My hands beat his shoulders, fighting him off. When he doesn’t release me, I try kneeing him in the nuts but miss.
Instead, we fall over onto the sand. Roman rolls on top of me like a boulder, his lips desperately searching for mine like a crazed lunatic. I flail and kick, but he refuses to budge.
When I wanted to win back Roman, I imagined this moment. In my fantasyland, I melted into this kiss as we were overcome with years of love and loyalty. It was beautiful and passionate. Instead, I feel nothing.
I don’t want this anymore .
“Mom?” Dex calls out on the breeze.
With Roman distracted by the interruption, I push him off to stumble and rise to my feet. Disgusted, I wipe my lips with the back of my hand. I want to yell at Roman for being an idiot, but I’m too overwhelmed by Dex’s horrified expression.
Finding us this way is the worst thing that could happen for him. Dex hated us together. He hated how Roman treated us.
My son was right from the beginning; I only ever needed him and Mom. They are my everything. They are my family. I had what I wanted all along, but I was too blinded by heartache to see.
“Dex, it’s not what it looks like.” I rush the overused cliché because I don’t have enough time to find the correct words. How can I explain in a millisecond? Your father is a toad and not the Prince Charming type.
I hold out my palm and inch around Dex like I’m corralling a frenzied animal. It doesn’t work. His face mashes into an angry wreck.
“Mom, how could you?” It’s all he has to say. Hurt blazes across his face.
Dex still thinks I’m not over Roman. Can I blame him? Having Nathan as a “boyfriend” doesn’t even factor into the equation because everything I’ve done up to this point supports that theory. It’s my own fault.
I want Dex to lash out. I want us to get everything out in the open. I want to tell him he’s smarter than me, that I should have listened to him from the beginning. He was right about everything, and I’m a terrible mom .
That’s not what happens, though. Dex doesn’t give me the tongue-lashing I deserve. He doesn’t even fight me. Instead, he does what he always does when met with some terrible thing he can’t handle.
He turns and runs away. His fight-or-flight response is the only part of him that’s still young.