There’s no urgency in his tone, no dread. But there isn’t peace either. I can see uncertainty in his eyes. Maybe fear.
“Okay.”
We work together to plate the food, our shoulders brushing. When he touches my back, I lean in, craving more. I want to ask what caused the change in his mood, but I also don’t want to burst the bubble. I’m not sure I’m ready for that conversation. What if it doesn’t go how I want it to?
Vince carries the bowl to the table while I pour us some drinks. “Georgie! Come eat.”
We sit at the table, knees bumping beneath it. Georgie rattles on about the play Avalon auditioned for and their plans to go to the San Diego Zoo with her family next weekend.
“How about you?” Vince asks me. “How was your day?”
I shift in my seat. Does he really expect me to have a normal conversation when my heart is all twisted up about our future?
I suck in a breath. “It was a little stressful, since we ran into a problem with a subcontractor, but I think Darren sorted it out. Tomorrow should be better.”
Vince narrows his eyes, like he hears something I didn’t say. Guilt flashes across his face, but he quickly shakes it off.
“Well, I had a good day too. I met Ace at the beach and took Bones for a walk. It was good to get out.”
Something painful twists in my chest. “You saw Ace?”
“Yeah, he knew about my appointment and wanted to check on me.” He stabs a piece of lasagna. “He would’ve broken down your front door if I hadn’t gone to him, so I figured Bones could protect me if he got too pushy.”
Georgie laughs, but I hear what Vince is really saying—Ace asked to see him, not the other way around.
I let that truth sink in. I need to get over the insecurity I have about Ace. It’s not like me. But is this why Vince’s mood has done a one-eighty? If so, why couldn’t Vince have talked to me instead of him? What did Ace offer that I couldn’t?
It makes my heart squeeze again. Hard.
I pick at my food for the rest of dinner, then get up to wash the dishes. Georgie disappears into her bedroom within minutes. Vince stands beside me, drying the glasses. His expression is quiet, guarded. The swirl of confusion and chaos in my head is too loud for me to be near him right now. I need a second. Just one.
“Fletcher, I—”
“Don’t,” I cut in. The coil in my chest tightens, wrapping around my heart like a vice. “I just… I need a minute, okay? Before… please, just give me a minute.”
Pain flashes in his eyes, but he slowly nods.
Walking to my bedroom, I close the door. The lights are dimmed, the noise of the house muffled. I try to let myself breathe, but the pain under my ribs is making it hard.
I change into my pajamas and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth, looking up when Vince enters the bathroom behind me. He stares at me in the mirror, then steps in closer, sliding his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. His eyes are pleading.
“I know you were worried today,” he says quietly.
Understatement of the year. All I can do is nod.
“But I’m okay, Fletcher,” he adds. “I mean… I’m not. I’m still afraid of what’s going to happen. But I’m here.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and turn around to face him. This close, I can see the exhaustion in his eyes. The weight beneath the surface. All the things he hid from Georgie.
But there’s clarity too. Resolve. Hope.
He reaches up to brush my cheek, and I realize I’m crying.
I hastily wipe my face. “Sorry, I’m just… confused, I guess. I didn’t know what I’d come home to.”
“I know.” He rubs my arms. “I’m sorry.” Vince takes a breath, steadying himself. “Can we talk now?”
We move to the bed, facing each other with our knees bent.
