Page 138 of Reckless Vow

“No problem, we just got here as well. The traffic was brutal from the Bronx.” Lo gestures for a server.

“You were in Riverdale?” I glance at Brook, whose eyes are downcast, playing with the butter knife.

“Yeah, we all went to see Bianca and Dad. The few weeks in Florida really did him well,” London says.

Brook looks at me and averts her eyes, darting her gaze around the table like there’s something to find there.

So, it wasn’t just her visiting her dad.

It was me not visiting with her.Don’t be an asshole. Give her time.

“I’m glad to hear that.” I adjust my cufflinks.

The server pours me a glass of water and retreats. I look around for the menu. He didn’t even recite the specials?

Lo picks up on my hesitation. “Oh, Massi will serve us whatever he wants.”

“But no worries, you will love it.” Dominic leans back in his seat.

The room bustles with cutlery clinking, conversations humming, servers running. I want my wife to fucking look at me.

London leads the conversation, asking about my business, recounting what her charity achieved, sharing the new endeavors she and Dom are starting for orphaned kids. It’s impressive, and the two of them seem like true partners.

My eyes meet Brook’s, but she looks down again. Guilty? Or has she already retreated to a world where there is no space for me?

In the middle of the main course, London picks up on the tension.

“What’s up with the two of you?”

Brook wipes the corners of her mouth. “What do you mean?”

“What happened while you were in Europe? Please don’t tell me you fucked.” She makes a face, like that would be the most unsavory thing.

“And what if we did?” Brook counters, dropping her fork.

“Whatever, you’re both adults.” London surprises me with her dismissive stance, but then she adds, “Still weird. It would kill Dad.”

“Did you know Paris and Finn named the baby after him?” Dom says.

I think he’s trying to divert the conversation, but a baby named after Brook’s dad only emphasizes how all the sisters are respecting their father and creating memories with him, while Brook is poised to give him a heart attack because of me.

I drop the napkin and excuse myself before I strangle someone. I rush to the bathroom and wash my face, hoping to cool down the hot blood coursing through me.

When I open the door, my gaze clashes with Brook’s. She is leaning against the wall opposite the men’s room.

“You’re mad at me.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement, but there is hurt behind her tone, and I hate it. I hate that she’s struggling, and I hate even more that I don’t know how to fix it for her.

These are her decisions. She doesn’t want me to help with the Dylan bullshit. This is way bigger. While I don’t give a fuck about anyone accepting us, she does. I need to respect that, give her time.

But I can still hate the situation.

“We should head back.” I turn to leave.

She grabs my arm. “Baldo, I’m sorry. I didn’t know Lo and Syd were bringing Dom and Hunter. I would have invited you to join us.”

“Would you?” I accuse. So much for giving her time to decide.

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