“Oh, geez,” he said, noticing the ring. “Sorry. I didn’t realize. I always assume everyone at these things is single.”
“It’s all right. My husband isn’t here tonight,” I said with a friendly smile. “Anyway, where’d you say you work?”
He stepped backward. “Actually, I think I’ll go back down and get a refill.”
“There might be drinks up here,” I said, showing him my beer.
“Er, I . . .” His sentence trailed off as he mumbled something and then fled.
“Oh, okay. Goodnight,” I called after him. I laughed at the unfailing powers of a wedding ring.
Well, almost, I thought, and my laugh vanished.
I peered down at my ring, wondering pointlessly how things might be different if it weren’t there. I slipped it off and studied my hand without it, expecting to feel different somehow.
“Where’d Steve go?” Gretchen demanded, and I furtively slipped the ring back into place.
“He left.” I frowned. “Who cares, though? The question is, where’s Greg?”
“Thatisa good question, smarty-pants. I should go find him,” she said, pulling out her cell phone. “Yeah, he texted me like five times.” She held the phone up inches from my face. “See?” I nodded, and she poked the girl next to her. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go get another drink.”
“And look for Greg,” I reminded her.
“Yep. Let’s go.”
The girl announced that they were leaving. Gretchen gestured for me to follow, and I glanced back at David. The group retreated as a unit with Gretchen leading the way.
“Comeon, Liv,” she called over her shoulder. “It’s time togo.”
“Time to go,” I repeated quietly to myself.
Go, Olivia . . . Go.
14
Part of me wished David would tell me he was done and put an end to this. Then I wouldn’t have to ride this emotional rollercoaster every day. I felt guilty for hurting both Bill and David. For the fact that maybe I was standing in the way of both their versions of home.
Why did I keep returning to this ridiculous concept of home? Was it not enough to have love and be happy? At thirteen years old, my home had broken in half in an instant. I’d never found that sense of belonging, that sense of security again. What was it about David that had me longing for that?
Bill was the only future I had ever known. He was supposed to be my rock, my love, my life. I wondered if knowing he was supposed to be all those things was still enough. Would I have eventually realized my doubts even if David hadn’t come along?
Do I have doubts?
I blinked from my daze to find I was glued to the same spot on the rooftop patio of The Revelin hotel’s top-floor suite. The voices in the penthouse had faded away as everyone had returned to the lobby bar. I looked across the way at David’s almost invisible silhouette. The ache to be next to him ran deep. To feel his hardness through the softness of his cashmere sweater, to rescue him from disappearing into the black horizon.
I clenched my hand around the beer bottle, fighting against what threatened to devour me. Did I even have a choice? It felt bigger than me, this thing. I wanted to bask in his warmth, feel his mouth on my neck. I wanted to see him gaze at me again like I was the only girl he couldn’t resist. Because he was that person for me. Of all the men, and, ashamedly, that included Bill, David was the one who I felt in my core, as though I only existed as an extension of him. I wanted to fall just so he could catch me.
I set my beer down and walked to the edge purposefully. With each click of my heels, my mind chantedmistake, mistake, mistake. But my heart . . . for once, it wouldn’t listen to reason.
David stood unresponsive with his back to me and his hands in his pockets. I stopped and took a deep breath before slipping my arms around his stomach. My cheek pressed against his back.
He inhaled sharply, but said, “Don’t.”
“I can’t not,” I said back.
He put his hands over mine and squeezed them hard before removing them. I didn’t fight him, though I wanted to. After a long moment, I backed away. My hand curled into a fist over my thumping heart. I longed for him with my whole being; I’d never wanted anything more than to feel him now. But it couldn’t be. There was a wall between us. I told myself over and over that it couldn’t be, that it was a mistake, that the day would come when not being able to touch him wouldn’t hurtso bad. . .
I turned and walked away, focusing on anything but the sting in my chest. My whole body flinched when David hurled an angry, thunderous curse into the night. But I kept going until I hit the penthouse foyer. My fingers closed over the door handle. I rested my forehead against the door.
