Page 91 of Fractured Frets

Chapter 26

MADDY

Sitting outside on a sun lounger beside the pool, I read through work emails and the publicity schedule that lay ahead of me when I returned home. Morning shows. Photoshoots. Interviews. Late-night talk shows. Chicago. New York. Atlanta. That wasn’t too much travel. But as the sun’s warmth hit my skin, I put my cell phone down. Work could wait. I had five more days in this beautiful country. I was in the middle of Tuscany. In a gorgeous villa with my friends...and my husband...and, unfortunately, Harper.

Last night, Slip’s mom’s party had been an overload of highs and lows. The inundation of relatives wishing us well, loud laughter, and booming voices had been a flurry of overwhelming fun. But the blows from Slip’s immediate family, especially his mom, had hurt my heart. Now I understood why he didn’t visit them often. Their disappointment hadn’t let up. They’d said nothing encouraging. I’d tried to not let the night get to me, but I hadn’t been able to sleep.

The more I got to know Slip, the more I realized we were alike. He hid so much behind his beautiful smile. He just wanted to be loved, respected, and accepted. I’d never fail him on those things, but how could I give him more on a regular basis? Was what we had what he truly needed? Was only seeing him occasionally sustainable long-term? I couldn’t help but think he deserved so much more than me.

I’d come downstairs at two-thirty a.m. to read so I didn’t disturb Slip with the lamplight. But I’d fallen asleep on the comfy sofa and had been woken by the chef making noise in the kitchen just after six this morning.

Bene had made me an incredible fluffy egg-white omelet, which I ate half of, then I grabbed a coffee and came outside to the pool to savor the peace and quiet. But thoughts of Slip filled my head. Fors and againsts staying together pummeled my head. No sound solution came to mind. I hated being in this situation. I just wanted a stress-free day. To spend time with him. To have fun away from interruptions. A day belonging to us.

Just after eleven, Sutton joined me, cradling her huge Stanley water bottle. In her pale blue pajama shorts and tank top, she sat on the sun lounger beside me and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

I lowered my sunglasses and giggled, then put them back into place. “How’s the head?” I’d heard everyone come back to the villa just after two.

“Not good,” she mumbled as she placed her sunglasses over her bloodshot eyes. “Uncle Rocco brought out the good wine. It went down way too well. You guys should’ve stayed.”

“Slip wasn’t up for it.”

“He okay? Are you?”

“Yeah. He’d hoped his parents would’ve accepted that we’re married by now. But clearly, that wasn’t the case.” I wriggled the striped pillow behind my head to get more comfortable. Slip and I did so much for our families, but they just wanted more, for us to change, or for us to be something we weren’t. “Slip says his mom will come around. I hope so. We have enough issues to sort out without her causing problems.”

“She will. You’re too adorable not to like.”

If you could call a screwed up, commitment-phobic, doubtful, stressed-out mess adorable, okay...I could be adorable. Sometimes.

Sutton took a big sip of water and licked her lips. “His mom would be happy if you lived in LA, wanted kids, and aimed to do nothing but take care of her baby boy.”

I was not like his brother’s wives, not at all.

Sutton’s lips quirked to one side. “Glad she’s not my mother-in-law.”

“No, but you have to deal with Flint’s parents.” I lifted my chin toward the sun, savoring the sunshine on my face. “They’ve got their own truckload of baggage. Don’t worry about that.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “They’re coming around slowly after losing Phil.”

They’d blamed Flint for Phil’s death and hadn’t talked to him for months after the car accident. Phil had been driving—not Flint. Their accusation that he’d been responsible for his brother’s death had added an extra-thick layer of crap to Flint’s depression. He’d lost his brother and his folks. He’d had a tough time climbing his way out of his gloom. So had Cole. Slip still struggled with the loss of his best friend. Some days the grief consumed him. Tore at his insides. And he had to stop hiding his sorrow behind his fun-loving smile, wild partying, and pill popping. I loved a drink and good time as much as he did. But since he’d hit the hard pain-killers, I wasn’t convinced he had everything under control. It was one of the tough, sensitive topics we’d yet to discuss. But it was a conversation we had to have.

I swiveled my head to face her. “Flint’s folks seem nice. I’m not sure I’ll ever be welcome at the Lipfields’ dinner table unless I’m barefoot and pregnant and have been in the kitchen all day.”

“That’s so not you.” Sutton sucked on her water, then licked her lips. “I want kids one day, but I want to get married first.”

“You talked to Flint about that?”

“I drop hints all the time.” She rounded her shoulders, slumped back in the sun lounger, and stared toward the vineyard. “I don’t know if he’s ignoring me, not ready, doesn’t want to get married, or he’s oblivious.”

“Maybe he’s waiting until after the tour?”

“Or my birthday? Or Christmas? Or Valentine’s Day? I’m waiting for him to ask me. I want it to happen. But if he hasn’t asked me by next summer, our three-year anniversary, I might have to propose to him. I want to be Mrs. Glover. Be his forever.”

“You don’t need to get married to stay together.”

“No. But I want to get married. I want to be a bride. You wanted to marry Noah years ago. Remember?”

I try not to.

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