Her expression turns to one of sadness. “Not at all.”
“What happened?” I have no idea if she wants to talk about it. I just know that I want to make her feel better.
Natalie chuckles, but the sound is scraped raw and full of pain. It makes me ache for her. “She showed up halfway through dessert.”
My brows pull together in confusion. I feel like I missed something in the conversation. “Who?”
“His girlfriend,” she bites out. “Actually, I was informed over dessert that the happy couple is now engaged to be married. Which is interesting because the divorce hasn’t been finalized yet.”
I let out a long, low whistle. “Shit, Davies. That sucks.”
“Yeah, it really does.” Looking deflated, she says, “We’ve texted a few times since he left, but I’ve been so angry about everything. This was the first time I’d agreed to sit down and talk about the divorce with him. I was hoping we could move forward.”
I don’t say a word. I just let Natalie talk.
“We make it through dinner and everything starts to feel normal again.” She glances at me. “It was nice. And then he ambushes me. Suddenly there she is, standing at the table, smiling at me like some kind of lunatic.”
I grimace at the picture she paints. “What’d you do?”
Her eyes dart to mine, and she whispers, “I lost it.”
“Lost it like you leaped across the table and tackled her to the ground?”
The edges of her lips lift. “No. But I would have loved to do that.”
I nod my head. “Yeah, I could see it happening. Chaos breaks out and the waitstaff has to pry you off her.”
“Oh, come on.” She chuckles and swats at my arm. “You could seriously see me doing that?”
“Hell, yeah.” I glance at her again as we continue toward her apartment. “Don’t forget that I saw you deck Nick Jacobs last year at a party.”
She covers her face with her hands. “Oh God, I forgot about that.”
“I think about it every time I see you.” I refrain from adding what a turn-on it is to see a girl who can take care of business when it’s called for. “So, if you didn’t tackle her to the ground, what’d you do?”
She huffs out a breath and shakes her head. “I don’t even remember. Honestly, it’s all a blur. I think I might have called her a homewrecker. Or something to that effect, anyway.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah…” She sighs. “My dad wasn’t too happy.”
“I can’t imagine that he was.”
“Did I mention that Bridgette—that’s her name by the way—is only twenty-seven?”
Wanting to offer comfort, I reach out with my free hand and lay it on top of hers before giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. I’m not sure what else to do. Her eyes lock on mine as if she’s surprised by the gesture. When she doesn’t slip them free, it feels like we might just be making progress.
“I’m sorry, Davies. The situation sucks all the way around.”
“Yeah, it does.” She’s silent for a beat. “These last nine months have been difficult. Even though I’ve been angry with him, I’ve still missed having him around…if that makes sense.”
I get it. “He’s your dad. Of course, it makes sense.”
“I guess I was hoping we could,” she shrugs, “I don’t know…get back to where we were before he walked out.”
“You could still do that,” I say quietly.
Her expression hardens and her body tenses. “No, I can’t.” Looking resolute, she shakes her head. “I’m more pissed now than I was before, if you can believe that. Coming face-to-face with that woman, knowing she’s the one who broke up their marriage...I honestly don’t know what he was thinking when he invited her to join us.”