“Come on,” he says, his smile more natural. “Let’s head down.”
He opens the door to the hallway, waiting for me to walk through, then closes it behind us.
But as I follow him down the stairs, watching the stiff way he holds his shoulders, I know I’ve hurt him.
I didn’t want to. I didn’t say anything untrue. We both know I’m going back, that this thing—whatever it is—will have to come to an end.
But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt him.
Or that I don’t feel that same hurt too.
22
Dinner is surprisingly…lovely.
My father and Maggie look like they did the night of their rehearsal dinner. There’s no lingering tension between them—though there’s still some in the air, mostly radiating from me. Perhaps I’m the only one who can sense it: this feeling of something unresolved between me and every other person sitting at this table.
“How do you like your salad?” Maggie asks.
I stop poking through the arugula, forcing myself to eat one of the beets. I don’t know why I ordered this. It sounded nice in theory, with the goat cheese and all, but I forgot that beets taste like dirt.
“It’s okay,” I say.
Jacob watches me, a small tilt to his lips.
She likes insects but she doesn’t like beets,I imagine him thinking. I can almost hear it in his voice. He’d probably say it out loud under different circumstances.
Not now, though. He lifts his glass of water and turns his attention to Maggie. “So,” he says, “should we talk about it? Clear the air?”
Direct, honest, to the point. It’s so like him to handle things this way.
I feel a sharp pinch beneath my breastbone, and I lift my hand, rubbing the spot.
“It looks like you both were able to talk things out,” he continues. “So, is that—were you? Everything’s now…okay?”
Maggie smiles, reaching over and patting Jacob’s hand. “It will be.” She shares a glance with my father. “We’re going to stay here for a week,” she says. “We booked the room for our honeymoon, so we’ve decided we’ll keep the reservation. Extend the length of it. Take a bit of a break. I—I’ve already told Ajit all of this, but I should tell you too.” She looks over at me. “Both of you, really. I didn’t mean to make any of you worry. I should have checked in sooner. I wasn’t really thinking, I was just reacting. I had a lot of—well, I’ve lived my life one way for a long time, and there were some things that were said that really made me think.”
My stomach bottoms out.
“I didn’t know how to process it, and I was just…scared. I think it’s hard, when you’ve been left before…” She trails off, but Jacob steps in.
“I know,” he says, and I remember what he told me. How James’s father—Maggie’s ex-husband—left both of them. How she raised her son alone.
A wave of nausea goes through me.
“Maggie, I’d like to—if we could talk—”
“Yes, of course,” she says. She lifts her napkin off her lap, folding it and placing it behind her.
“Oh, I didn’t mean—we can wait until after dinner, if you prefer.”
“No, it’s all right. We’re all done,” she says. She glances at my plate and gives me a small smile. “I think you’re done with that too.”
Her dry tone pulls a surprised laugh out of me, and I follow her lead, leaving my napkin on the chair.
“We’ll be back in time for dessert,” she tells the men, and then she puts her hand through my arm as we leave the dining room.
We’re barely back in the lobby before the words tumble out of me. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I had too much to drink that night, and I had no business talking to you that way. Or saying any of that.” I swallow. “I’ve seen these last few days how different my father is with Jacob, how worried he was about you, and I…” The words leave me as quickly as they came, and I stop, uncertain.
