Page 43 of Pretend for Me

“I don’t deserve forgiveness,” she spat. “What kind of mother am I? Most parents make their first mistakes after the child is born. I couldn’t even wait and I’m paying for it every day.” Audrey looked away.

“For what it’s worth, you are worthy. Look at your animals and even Cassie—you help people,” I reassured her, smiling softly.

Audrey wiped her eyes, pulling herself back together. “Thank you, Matthew. And thank you for listening to my story. I really do hope you both can work through your differences. You really are meant to be together.”

She walked to the desk to check how much longer Oreo would be. The receptionist gestured that she could go pick him up from the back room. Audrey scurried to pick up her baby, carrier in hand.

A few moments later, Oreo was going berserk in the carrier as Audrey paid and gave me a half hug goodbye. “Think about what I said.” She winked. “Give Rocky my best!”

“Rocky, come, boy.”I tugged his leash for the second time. The dog who was afraid of the vet now didn’t want to leave. I was convinced Rocky had a crush on one of the technicians.

Leaving the vet’s office, I started to reflect on my eye-opening conversation with Audrey. I surely didn’t anticipate Audrey to have such a sad past.

I was even more surprised to hear Audrey reveal that she believed Cassie still loved me. But I wasn’t clinging to that. I needed to listen to Cassie and respect her boundaries, the ones she so clearly set. If we were meant to be together, it would happen naturally. The more I forced the matter, the more Ireminded myself of Wyatt, and that wasn’t an attribute I was proud of as of late.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the time. Twelve-thirty. Wow, the vet took forever today. I was supposed to be meeting Charlie in a half hour. School was out for some sort of teacher development day going on, and she wanted to spend time together. We had arranged for her to meet me at the office, but I’d been so absentminded lately that I forgot to tell her about my sabbatical.

While I dialed her number, I decided to stop for bagels. The teenage girl was a bottomless pit after all. Charlie ate more than Holden, and that was saying something.

Charlotte’s phone went straight to voicemail. My eyebrows furrowed. Charlie was glued to that phone so it was unlikely she didn’t see me call.

Maybe she was waiting in front of the office. I was in the neighborhood, so I might as well walk by and double check.

Rounding the corner, I saw the marble building across the street that once soaked up all of my energy. My phone started ringing and I answered it without a second thought. “Hello,” I said, reaching down to pet Rocky, who was getting antsy in the lunch hustle and bustle.

“Matthew. Hi. Um. I can’t meet you today.” Charlie choked the words out, the sound of her voice muffled. Wherever she was, it was extremely loud in the background.

“Charlotte, is everything okay?” I grew concerned. I’d been so wrapped up in my own turmoil lately that I’d let Charlie slip through the cracks.Fuck.

“Yeah, sure. I’m fine. Fine,” she said, whispering something softly to someone on the other end of the phone.

“Charlotte! What’s all that noise, and who are you talking to? Do you want me to come to you?” I demanded, pacing in front of a jewelry store.

“No!” Charlie shouted into the phone. “I mean no, Nia came back because she forgot her lunch. She was bitching because I didn’t vacuum the living room. As for the noise, I’m watching theReal Housewives. You know those old hags yell about anything.” She huffed, sounding winded. “Love you, Matty, but I gotta go!”

I stood in the middle of the sidewalk, stunned. Charlie had always been quirky and wild, but this took the cake.

It wasn’t lost on me that Charlie didn’t correct me when I called her Charlotte or the fact that Nia’s house only had hardwood floors.

23

CASSIE

“Cassie, somebody wants to talk to you,” Bridget said, as she huffed past me. “Table four in the garden.”

“Oh okay,” I called. “Thanks.” I was too focused on not dropping the tray of drinks in my hands to worry about anything else.

Bridget just waved her hand and went on her merry way.

I gave my table their drinks and went to the garden area. The smell of the flowers made my allergies act up. I sneezed and went to cover my mouth with the crook of my elbow, in turn knocking into somebody in the process. “I’m so sorry,” I croaked out, mortified.

“No harm, no foul, darling,” a man with a foreign accent explained.

I finally looked the man in the eye and saw none other than world-renowned gallery owner, Marcus Lenore.

“You don't happen to know a ‘C. Wright,’ do you?” he asked innocently, holding one of my sketches. True to her word, Bridget had a small display set up in the front for whatever pieces I brought in. I spent all my free time working and perfecting my selections.

“Bridget said she’d send her back here,” the man said, breaking me out of my daze.

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