Page 17 of Caught in Us
“No, I mean a good distraction. An enjoyable one. You deserve to be happy.”
I swallow hard, his words hitting deeply.
“At least for a few hours.” He winks.
“Uh.” My cheeks burn as his innuendo hits. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“Not a relationship.” He rolls his eyes and shakes off the idea. “One night. Two adults. Consensual fun.”
I stare at him in a new light, considering his offer no matter how bad it might be. He’s handsome. He’s charming. He’s British. “It wouldn’t mean anything?”
“You worried I’m gonna catch feelings, love? Nah, I have my own heartache. Besides, I think we could both use the fun.”
It’s a bad idea. But it’s better than getting shitface drunk. It’s better than crying in an empty room. It’s better than pretty much all my alternatives. Besides, I could use fun. A distraction. There’s nothing wrong with a casual one-night fling. In fact, I’m almost certain it’s a requirement when relocating to a new country. Tomorrow, I’ll throw myself into my studies and there won’t be time for thinking or pleasure or missing Chase.
I’m doing it. Or rather, I’m doing Simon. “Your place or mine?” I hop off my barstool and pull on my coat.
“Oh, well, then.” He straightens, his brows shooting up as if he’s a little shocked by my agreement. “Whichever’s closest.”
“Okay.” I nod, fierce determination sending tingles throughout my body. A sliver of guilt creeps into my mind, as if I shouldn’t be doing this. As if I’m being unfaithful to Chase. Which is absolutely ridiculous because I am the one who ended things. There’s no one to betray other than my own heart. I shake off the thoughts and focus on the task at hand. “You better be a good lay.”
A guffaw bursts from his lips. “I promise not to let you down.” He walks with me to the door and holds it open. “Lead the way.”
11
Alicia
Present Day
It’s early when I pad down the stairs the next morning. Matthew’s still sleeping and I take advantage of a few minutes of peace. My mind has been a wreck since yesterday. Seeing Chase again has unsettled all the certainty I’ve held for past decisions made.
At least my mom seemed a little better when we got back yesterday. She wasn’t curled up next to a bottle of wine. She still had a glass in hand, but was busy directing the house staff with everything she wanted done before Saturday. Apparently, the idea of hosting an event has revitalized her. She always cared about our family’s image, and it’s sort of comforting to see her in her old element. I grew up witnessing my mother organizing endless charity and social events. Maybe Jill and Cam’s wedding will renew her sense of purpose and passion. Maybe now she’ll stop moping around this mansion, locked away under the pretense of hiding my father’s condition.
Though I couldn’t really blame her. I understand all too well how addiction masks deep pain. From my observation, she’s stuck in a mourning of her old life, but unwilling to move forward to find a new normal. I can’t push her toward recovery, as frustrating as it is. The worry I hold for both my parents grows by the day, along with the guilt for staying away so long. Maybe if I’d been here, things would be different. Maybe I would have been able to keep her from drowning. But more likely, she would have pulled me down with her.
It’s early and I stop in the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee before checking in on my dad.
“Morning,” I say, slipping into his bedroom downstairs.
Jessica, his night nurse, stands from her chair and moves to meet me at the foot of his bed. “Morning, Alicia. It’s nice to see you in person instead of on the computer screen.” I know all of my father’s nurses well, and they feel a little like family at this point. I checked in with them more than my own relatives, and they never made me feel I was being a nuisance with all my questions.
“Good to see you, Jessica.” I smile, then look down at my father. “Did he sleep well?”
“It was a rough night. I think he’ll sleep most of the day. He’s a little congested. Probably just a cold, but we’ll have his doctor come out if he’s still having issues today.” She glances at her watch. “I’ll let Theresa know when she gets here, but that’s not for a few hours. You’re up early. Jet lag?”
“Yeah.” I shrug, but that’s a lie. It’s my racing mind and feelings of uncertainty that had me tossing and turning all night. That and the fact I’ll be spending today with Chase Matthews. I swallow hard, and push away the nerves. “It’ll be a busy day. I wanted to check on dad before that.”
“Have you brought Matty in to see him yet?”
I bite at the inside of my cheek, shaking my head. “We’ve been running around like crazy since we landed.” I have no real excuse for why I haven’t. My son understands his grandpa doesn’t move or speak, at least as well as a two-and-a-half-year-old can. I need to bring him in here—it’s the right thing; at least, I think. There’s no handbook for how to navigate these things. But the first night Matty was so tired. Yesterday, we were heading out to the luncheon, and afterward I couldn’t think of anything but today. “I will though. Soon.”
The idea of my father lying incapacitated as he meets my son for the first time sends a sharp pain through my heart. This isn’t the future I wanted—for him, or me. Selfishly, I long for the impossible—a meeting filled with conversation, laughter, and warm embraces.
“I should go see if he’s up.” I back away from where my father sleeps. Emotion fills my throat, stinging my nose, and I blink away the urge to cry. It almost hurts more seeing him like this, because then I imagine him waking, sitting up, and telling us the stroke was some big misunderstanding.
She nods, her smile softening with compassion. “We’ll be here when you’re ready.”
I press my lips together so I don’t cry. Sadness. Anger. The unfairness of it all hits the second I close his door behind me. How did we end up here?
