“Pot meet kettle.” She allowed a fleeting smile before catching her lower lip between her teeth in a frown. “You need to let it go, Nate. People make mistakes. Hopefully, we learn from them and try and do better.”
“But to sleep with a man when you knew he was married?” The conversation had come full circle to Press. “How can I forgive that?”
“You said he was young and alone. Plus, it was years ago, well before you met. How is Presley with you? Do you feel he’s completely invested in your relationship?”
His presence was so real and vibrant, I could feel the press of his lips against my throat and smell the scent of his aftershave. “Yeah. I’ve never doubted his feelings for me.”
Her smile was tender. “And what of your feelings for him?”
We’d always had the type of relationship where I could tell her almost anything without embarrassment or repercussion. But I found myself unable to when it came to Presley. Not until I worked it out in my head. And of course my mother knew. She always did.
“It’s what I thought, then. You care deeply for him, maybe even love him, but you’re so tangled up in yourself, you can’t figure it out.”
Because she told the truth, I couldn’t contradict her. “I said some terrible things to him.”
Her eyes softened. “Then I guess you’ll have some making up to do.” She put her hand on my arm. “It’s not easy to dig deep, past the hurt and the blackness. I sat in that dark, angry place for a very long time, but once I let it go and let a sliver of blue sky into my endless night, my joy for life returned, and I was able to breathe. Does Presley bring you joy?”
I thought of his hot, sweet kisses and how he held on to me so tightly when we made love. The way he’d give me a little smile every time I took his hand when we walked down the street.
“Ethan asked you to come, didn’t he?”
She finished her tea. “Him and Allie both. They’re so worried about you, and they really liked Presley.”
I marveled at how she must’ve known some details about my relationship and yet managed to keep it from me so I would talk freely.
“How long are you here for?”
“The week. I’m going out to Long Island to stay with them and see the children, but I wanted to stop by here first.”
“I’m glad you did.”
She gathered her handbag and gloves from the top of the island. “I had my luggage sent over to their house. I hope I helped somewhat today, and that you’ll think about what I said and make the right decision.”
I kissed her cheek. “I’ll call you a car.”
“Thanks. And don’t think I don’t notice you aren’t answering me. I hope that means you’re thinking about it.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Her delicate silver brows rose, but she pressed her lips together. By the time we walked upstairs, the car was waiting out front.
“Let me know when you get to Ethan and Allie’s house.” I opened the front door for her.
“Let me know when you speak to Presley,” she said, challenging me with her direct gaze.
I shook my head, and she walked down the stairs to the idling car. I watched the taillights fade before closing the door. I leaned against it, remembering the first time Presley had come home with me and I was so desperate to kiss him, I almost ravished him on this spot. That response to him hadn’t disappeared. I couldn’t be around Press without wanting to touch him. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the pictures until I came to one of my favorites of him. I’d taken it moments after he’d woken up one morning. His hair lay in tangled, messy strands around his face, those dark eyes dreamy and heavy-lidded with sleep. A soft smile curved his full, sexy lips.
If I knew Frisco, he’d be pushing Presley to see new people immediately, and my stomach cramped. I couldn’t imagine another man holding Presley, touching him. Kissing his mouth. Cursing myself, I stomped into the living room and threw myself on the couch. I could go to his store, but having a personal conversation in public made my skin crawl.
My mother was right about one thing—Presley had brought me joy. He’d brought me out of the darkness and into the light, helped me breathe again. Had I fucked it up beyond repair? Could I move past all the anger, betrayal, and fear I’d held on to for the past three years?
Chapter Twenty-Three
As promised, Frisco came by before dinnertime with a shopping bag full of our favorite takeout Chinese food from childhood and a bottle of Malbec. “It’s the perfect night for this—cold and misty. Remember when we were kids and your parents would order in a feast for us?”
“Yeah.” My throat closed up, and I busied myself opening the bag. I pulled out container after container of ribs and dumplings, spicy chicken with mixed vegetables, rice and chow fun noodles.
“I’m sorry, babe. I know you’re missing them.” He covered my hand with his, and I laid my head on his shoulder.
