Page 146 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, far more than most are aware of. However, convincing Daphne she was just a side piece is my biggest one. I only pray it won’t haunt me forever.

“Listen up, douche,” Mav calls me to attention. “Why you trying to put yourself further in the doghouse?”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” he cuts me off. “Your sister is her best friend. She is giving you inside information. Why aren’t you listening?”

A frustrated sigh escapes me as I drag my fingers through my hair. “What if we have it at your place and she doesn’t come? At least if I host, she’ll be here.”

“You can’t force Daph to do anything she doesn’t want to do, Nick. You’re still trying to control the situation. Stop.”

“But—”

“Stop.”

I grow quiet. Deep down, I know they’re right. I need to back off, to stop trying to force her into believing this is real and start showing her that I’m serious.

“Nick,” Mav continues, “walk over to your guest house and invite your wife to Christmas dinner here.”

“Okay,” I relent.

“Good boy. Text me and let me know how it goes, but don’t expect an answer for a least a few hours because your sister’s prancing around this house right now looking like a fucking felony and I’m about to do some damage.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re a motherfucker.”

“It ain’t your mom I’m about to rail, Nick.”

“I liked you better when you were miserable,” I deadpan.

He breaks out into a hearty chuckle. “Wife. Now. Gro-vel.”

The line disconnects, leaving me shaking my head at his antics. I blow out a shaky breath as I stare down at the small cursive ‘D’ tattooed on my left ring finger, internally pep-talking myself as I work up the nerve to walk over to my guest house.

She’s home; her car’s in the driveway. Not the Benz or the Escalade I bought her. No, she wouldn’t even consider taking such a ‘handout’ from me, so they sit in the garage untouched. My jaw tics in annoyance. Instead, she went out and bought a used Honda Pilot, one that she needed to finance because she won’t use any of the credit cards I gave her either. All just to fucking spite me.

That woman.

Pushing the frustration from my mind, I start to make my way to the back door when the doorbell chime echoes through the house.

Who the fuck?

I change course, heading down the hallway that leads to my foyer before pulling open the heavy ornate wooden door. The figure on the other side turns toward me, and I come face to face with Ace, Daph’s assistant.

Daph brought Ace on in the beginning of September. They went to Vassar together and studied the same major. He all but jumped at the opportunity to work with her, which instantly irked me. Ace looks less like someone who’d be interested in design and more like an MMA fighter. Man’s comparable in height to me with enough tattoos to rival Mav. His light brown hair is long, always wrapped up in a bun atop his head. And though he rocks large black-framed glasses, they do nothing to downplay his aesthetic. If anything, they add to it.

I remember the first day Mav and I met him. The ‘oh fuck’ look Mav shot me when we realized this is who Daph will be pulling all her late nights with when working on the bar. Honestly, if it wasn’t for my sister sharing the crucial fact that he bats for the other team, I probably would have shot him that first week.

Thank God I didn’t though because he’s chill as fuck. He fits in pretty effortlessly with our crew, even with Rico, T, Finn, and JP.

“Ace,” I greet him as we lock hands, pulling one another in and bumping shoulders. “What’s good? Daph’s out back.”

“Yeah, dude. I know. I actually am here to see you.”

“Come in.” I step to the side, gesturing for him to enter.

“Nah, Nick. I appreciate it but unfortunately, I’m not here for a social call. In fact, the only reason I volunteered for this visit is because I was nervous anyone else you’d catch an assault charge.”

My head tilts in confusion as I eye him suspiciously. “What do—” My eyes take note of the manila envelope he’s clutching in his right hand, my vision zeroing in as the bile rises in my throat with the anticipation of the dreaded words I know he’s gonna say next.

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