Page 37 of When We Meet Again

My dad sips his Crown Royal and waits for me to say something. I’ve got nothing. “But, son, she looks at you like you have lit up her entire world, despite losing a fiancé—aperson someone considers the love of their life.” I swallow hard. “Perhaps it was meant to be you this whole time.”

My body sings with anticipation. Me? The love of Waverly’s life. The idea makes my head spin.

“What I’m trying to say is yes, Patrick’s my son, too, but I don’t think he wasitfor her. I think you have something with her that never existed with her and your brother…and turning your back on such a gift will only lead to prolonged heartache for the both of you,” he adds.

No words are forming. The love of my life? Idolike her a lot. We haven’t even kissed. Who knows, maybe it would be pretty terrible. Maybe we would bump teeth more than tongues if we kissed. What if she was constantly comparing me to Patrick? He and I are built differently. He was bulky with muscles and looked like TJ Watt’s twin. Who wouldn’t want to date someone who looks like a linebacker from the Steelers? It’s what Waverly’s used to. I’m lean and athletic. I can’t wrap her into a bear hug like he could.

“Any-hoo, don’t let my words get to you too much. Just an observation.” Dad stands abruptly, conversation over, and chugs the rest of his glass before slamming it down. “What do you say we go grab that lunch your mom made?”

Lunch? He basically dumped an ice-cold bucket of water over me. Shocking me with his words, and snappily ends it like we just talked football? Like we didn’t just have a potential life-changing conversation. My father astounds me.

“Yeah. I’ll be up in a minute.” Like my father’s habit I inherited, I run my hands through my hair, pulling at the roots. I’m trying not to let his words seep into my brain and burrow like a ticking time bomb. But I see the future. The bomb will burrow. It will detonate…and it will take its victims with it.

I makeit up to the sun deck after taking a few work calls and refilling my drink. Lord knows I need it, and I find Lena talking circles around Mom and Waverly.

“And then Roman kissed me. It was so romantic.”What the…?

Dad sits at the end of the table while Mom sits at the other, leaving both my past and present with empty chairs next to both of them. Waverly never looks up at me as she moves a piece of fruit around on her plate with her fork. This has to be awkward for her, and for Lena to be talking about kissing…I hope she wasn’t talking about me.

“Ahi tuna, huh, Mom? My favorite.” I clap my hands together announcing my presence. I know she feels me when I enter the room. It was always like that between us. She could be mid-conversation with a group of people, and when I walked in the room, she was the first person I’d notice—and when my eyes landed on her, she’d turn.

“Looks delicious, Mom, thank you.” I walk behind Waverly to get to my chair, dragging my fingers from one shoulder to the other, causing goosebumps in their wake. Even if sitting next to Lena was my only option, I’d make everyone move so I could sit next to the woman who’s stolen a piece of my heart.

Waverly must be sobering up by now, or maybe she’s just deep in her own thoughts. Can’t have the latter happen.

“I’m glad you and your father decided to join us,” my mom smirks. I give my mother a pointed look. Sarcasm isn’t a good look on her. I glance at Waverly. Her light hair is wind-blown and starting to curl from being on the water. It does the same thing to mine.

“She just brought it out. It looks wonderful. We love ahi, don’t we, Roman?” Lena asks, trying to steal my attention.

I know Waverly knows I’m staring at her. Mom knows, Dad knows; hell, I can hear it in Lena’s voice. Lena’s probably wondering why the hell my mom invited her if this was strictly for Waverly. The better question would be why would she join us knowing that we’d broken up and she’d moved out? I’ll open that can of worms later.

“Do you like ahi tuna, Kensi?” I lean my arm across the back of her chair, circling my thumb on her bare shoulder, and she leans into the touch.

She nods and her lips turn up at the sides. “I love ahi, especially how your mom prepares it.” My mom reaches over and places her hand on Waverly’s, thankful for the compliment.

Ever the subtle man, my dad chimes in, “I already had enough cheese today, let’s put a pause on all of this cheesiness. Now, let’s eat before the tuna swims away.”

I tear my gaze from Waverly and tap my hand on the table. “This man has jokes!”

My mother serves all of us and herself before we say a short prayer before digging in. Although we’re Irish Catholic, we never used to say a prayer before we ate. After Patrick died, my mom started attending mass regularly. She said it made her feel closer to him and she was able to stop the anti-depressants. I’m happy something so easy can bring her peace. Now if I could crack the nut beside me, I could figure out what’s going on inside that gorgeous head of hers.

She must feel my eyes on her again because the corner of her mouth tilts up and her eyes flutter.

“So, Lena,” my dad, ever the wordsmith, makes small talk with the girl who has yet to read the room. “Why are you here?”

My mom drops her fork at the same time Waverly chokes on her water.Jesus, Dad.

Lena’s a sweet girl, but that’s exactly what she is. She’s an Instagram influencer, and she’s always happy, and kind, but other than that, we didn’t really have much to talk about outside of the bedroom.

“Oh, Harold! When Janine asked me to come help celebrate Roman’s late brother’s fiancée’s birthday, I knew I had to come,” Lena says innocently.

Waverly tenses at her words. Is that all she thinks she is? My “late brother’s fiancée?” That’s not the title she should have to carry. She should have her own identity.

I move my hand from her shoulders and slip it under the table to find her leg, all in the pretense of adjusting my napkin. I’m not sure what the hell I was thinking by touching her there. It just feels natural. We’ve exchanged a few intimate moments, but I’ve never gotten close tothearea that could detonate the tension between us with a flip of a switch.

“Why’s that, Lena? Why did youhaveto come seeing as we’ve only met once?” Waverly asks, raising her eyebrow and an “I-can’t-wait-to-hear-this” smile. She may give off a sweet vibe from her exterior, but her interior is screaming with insecurities.

Harold's gray eyes blaze with outrage and chimes in, “You girls have met? Both interested in our boy here?” He chuckles. I see Harold’s drinks are starting to kick in.

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