Page 94 of Back for Seconds

I’d taken him for granted. His time, his attention, his affection. It had never occurred to me that there could be a time when Joey not only didn’t want to be around me, but would aggressively try to put more and more space between us. I’d stupidly thought that nothing could break through that promise we’d made each other, right here, on the pink velvet couch to stay friends.

He’d been so steady. So calm. So loving.

So unlike everyone else in my life.

I tightened my fist around the ring until it pressed painfully into my sweaty palm.

I stumbled over to the couch and lowered myself to it, feeling like the room was spinning. Like I might collapse head over feet. I curled up into a ball, pressing my forehead into my knees, locking my arms around my shins.

Suddenly, a moment came back to me.

The last time I’d curled up like this on the couch. Trying to still my breathing.

A different ring crushing into the soft flesh of my hand.

Panic lurched in my stomach, beginning its quick, spiderlike scramble up my throat. I gulped down big inhales of air, just to prove to myself I could. What had happened? What had I done?

I was trembling—shaking.

I felt like I’d circled the entire fucking globe only to end up back exactly where I’d started.

“Fuck,” I hissed, hurling the ring as hard as I could, blindly, across the room.

Chapter 31 June

I picked up the ring and slid it back onto my finger for safe keeping. After all, it wasn’t mine to throw around. I needed to give it back to Joey. Whenever he was ready to see me again.

If it hadn’t been for the notification on my phone from my calendar, I would have completely forgotten that my dad and I had settled on this afternoon for our glass of wine meeting, though there was no single human on earth I wanted to see less.

I wouldn’t cancel. I couldn’t.

I managed to put together an outfit that would receive the Robert Alfiero stamp of approval, which meant my tattoos were covered and the exact size and shape of my body was mostly a mystery. Regardless of the Herculean effort it took to lace up my Doc Martens and drive across town, I found myself once again at Brasserie Luna only seven minutes late. For a moment, I stood outside in the cold taking deep breaths, wondering if I should just make it a nice, round fifteen minutes. Heck, why not twenty minutes late?

Inside was warm and cozy, the smell of mulled wine and candle wax on the air. I moved through the space until I spotted my dad sitting at a bistro table, alone.

One last breath, then—

“Hi, Dad.” I tried my best to sound out of breath. “Sorry about that.”

“June.” His resonate voice jumped with surprise as he got to his feet.

We kissed each other hello with a peck on each cheek as my heart thumped so violently in my chest, I swear I felt my sweater moving. We settled across from each other.

He looked good—handsome and tan. His dark, coiffed hair had gone from gray-at-the-temples to gray-all-over. The round belly he’d had most of my life seemed to have decreased in size, and the fine lines around his round eyes seemed to be disappearing too. In front of him was seltzer water with a lime floating in it.

“You’re late.” A neutral sentence delivered with very strong eye contact. “I ordered you a Pinot Grigio and an ice water.”

I swallowed against the pulse of anxiety in my throat. “Uh, thanks. And sorry about that, I-I got caught up with something.”

“Your generation.” He smiled—that hard, humorless smile. Dad shifted to lean back in his chair. “You all don’t think twice about your obligations. Late for everything, no text or phone call. You think the world’s just waiting for you.”

I didn’t say anything. Just picked up the little paper menu off the table and turned it over in my hands. What was there to say? Other than fuck you.

“So, what’s new?” he asked after a moment. “Are you seeing anyone?”

I shook my head, unsure of where to rest my eyes. I settled on a piece of fuzz clinging to his shoulder. “Uh. Nope.”

“That’s good. You have a lot of time to work on yourself, then.”