Page 29 of Seeing You

“It desperately needs some TLC. Honestly, Billie, it was like stepping back in time. Everything is exactly the way it was when my mother died.”

“Wow, that had to be a bit of a shock.”

Nodding, he glanced over at her. “That’s putting it mildly. Max swears it gives Dad comfort to have everything the way it always was, but personally, I don’t think it’s healthy. He needs to move on, and I don’t think my mother would want the house to be like some kind of shrine.”

Beside him, he heard her quiet hum. “She most certainly would not. She used to talk about all the updates she wanted to do to that house. I’m sure she’d hate seeing those same curtains on the windows.”

For the rest of the drive, they talked about his childhood home and there was a comfort and ease to the conversation that he didn’t expect. He’d spent so many years thinking of Billie with anger that he had forgotten the pleasure there was in discussing the simple things in life.

They arrived at Summit Ridge and walked inside and straight to the restaurant. The hostess led them to their table—a wonderful corner table in the back next to a wall of windows looking out over the property. The sun was going down, but the view was still pretty spectacular.

“Wow,” she whispered, looking out. “We grew up here, and we grew up coming up here, but the view still takes my breath away. When the resort reopened, it’s like…it wasn’t just the buildings that were refreshed. It seriously improved in ways I never thought possible.”

He had to agree.

Their server came over and took their drink orders and told them the specials, and for several minutes, the conversation was strictly on food.

Which was great because he knew soon enough they would discuss painful memories.

He held that off until they were done with their dinners. He wanted to hear about her baking and how she got there, and she asked about where he was working and how his career had skyrocketed. It was a time to get reacquainted and while he still couldn’t believe she gave up a lucrative career to bake, she seemed genuinely happy.

“Would you care for dessert?” their server asked when she came to clear away their dishes.

“You know,” Billie slowly said as she glanced at the menu, “my sister raved about the chocolate mousse cheesecake. Can I get a slice but with any whipped cream or fruit on the side?”

“Absolutely. And for you, sir?”

Glancing at the dessert menu, he said, “I think I’ll have the bananas foster, please. And a decaf coffee.”

“Ooh…me too,” Billie told her. “The decaf, I mean.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With nothing left to do, Marcus figured he should be the one to start the conversation, especially since this entire night was his idea.

“So…”

The sad smile she gave him told him she knew exactly where this was going.

The urge to reach across the table and take her hand in his was strong, but…inappropriate. She’d hurt him deeper than he ever thought possible, and just because they were being cordial right now, didn’t mean the pain of her betrayal just went away. Still, enough time had passed that he had moved on, but he needed an explanation.

Sheowedhim an explanation.

“This has been a wonderful night,” he began carefully. “I almost hate to ruin it.”

“But…?” she prompted.

“But…you have to know why I need answers, Billie. The way you left…”

Letting out a long, quiet breath, she nodded. “I tried talking to you, but you weren’t hearing me. I wasn’t happy. My family needed me, and I begged you to understand. You got angry every time I brought the subject up of me going home for a little while.”

“I know,” he admitted. “I know. It just seemed like you were reading more into the situation than there really was. Your sisters were struggling, but…everyone struggles a bit in college. Your mother was the one harassing you, and Marie—who I know is a perfectly lovely person—is also a drama queen who loved to guilt you into doing things. I watched it happen for years, and I hated it. Your mother made her decisions, but she didn’t want to deal with the consequences of them. She was the parent, Billie. Not you. And yet she put you in that role because she couldn’t handle her life.”

“Okay, but…you were throwing guilt at me too. No one was going to win, Marcus. Certainly not me. If I stayed with you, you won. If I went home, she won. No one seemed to care about what I wanted.”

For several moments, he didn’t know what to say.

“I guess—hindsight and all—I should have seen that you were struggling. I should have listened more.”

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