I swallow. “It was a—a very difficult time for us.” I fidget with the fabric of my skirt, and Preston notices. He reaches over and folds my hand into his.
His hand is warm and there’s a comfort to the touch, but it’s not Nate’s. I don’t have the longing to entwine my fingers with his; I don’t feel that comfort traveling through my whole body. I don’t feel theheatof it.
“I can imagine,” he says. “And I don’t want to press, but—”
“It’s okay.” I knew I’d have to talk about it with him at some point. Half the producers have been intimating that “sharing my pain” with Preston would go a long way to bringing us closer.
Except it won’t, because I can’t share that. Not all of it, anyway.
“You can ask me anything you want,” I say.
He smiles gently, then pauses, like he’s gathering his thoughts. Meanwhile, I see the producer motioning, and another producer hurries over. I see him say something into his headset mic, though he covers his hand.
I can guess, though.She’s talking now. All hands on deck.
Well, all hands that aren’t dealing with the shit-show happening by the fire pit, though that does seem to have quieted down somewhat.
Game face, Becca, I tell myself.Another round of the story you’ll tell again and again for the rest of your life.
“So he died serving overseas, right?” Preston asks. “Three years ago.”
“Right.The military was a huge part of his life. He loved being in the army, serving his country. It was really important to him.”
Preston nods. “I imagine you and the girls were really important to him, as well.”
“Absolutely.” Partially true. “He was an incredible father.They adored him.” My voice breaks on the last part. No matter how many times I’ve told this story, it’s still hard to remember the day I had to tell the girls.The wailsThea made, like a wounded animal.The way Rosie, only two, didn’t really understand and was terrified by the grief and hid under her bed.
Tears burn at the corners of my eyes.
Preston squeezes my hand. “God, that must have been horrible for them. And for you as well. It sounds like he was an incredible man.”
My gut is folding in on itself, more so than it usually does when talking about this.There are so many cameras, and Preston is so earnestly wanting to learn more about me because he’s looking to find a wife, for god’s sake, and now I’m lying to the whole world—
But I don’t have a choice, do I?
“He was,” I say. “An incredible guy. Everyone just loved him.” Almost everyone. “He was one of those people who made everyone feel at ease and special. He could hold the attention of a whole room, and each person felt like he was paying attention to them.”
Preston lets out a breath, and I wonder if I pushed it too far.That’s probably not what someone interested in dating me would want to hear.
I want to look for Nate, to find out if he’s watching this, but I won’t let myself.
“How long were you married to him?” Preston asks.
“We met in high school,” I say. “Our junior year. He was my first real boyfriend. He proposed on our graduation day, and we got married a year and half later.”
Preston’s eyebrows raise. He might have done the math onThea’s age, but hearing the age we got married always manages to take people by surprise. “Wow. It sounds like you two had a really special, deep love.”
For some reason, my mind goes back to the carriage ride with Nate.To talking about whether we believed in soul mates.
Do you think your husband was your best match?
No, I suddenly want to scream.No.We didn’t, he’s not, please would someone listen to everything I’m not saying?
My heart is pounding, and sweat beads on my brow. I wish I could take my hand from Preston’s, but that seems like it would cause more things to have to explain, and honestly I just want this conversation over with as soon as possible. Which means I need to hold it together.
I didn’t answer about Preston’s comment about our “special, deep love,” but I think he—and the viewing audience—will read my silence as grief.
He wets his lips. “So do you think you’re open to falling in love again?”
