Page 47 of Wedding Season
“Do you think that’s a little excessive? You could go for a walk around the neighborhood to get some fresh air.” He reached out and patted the top of her head. “Potentially shower?”
“Yeah, yeah, point taken. I’ve been... Well...it’s been a rough couple of days to be honest.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, truly wanting to know. To understand what made this fascinating woman—with her dichotomy of edges and vulnerability—tick.
“You know she spent the night here.”
“I do.”
“I barely slept a minute. I laid in bed all night listening in case she called out to me. As if she were still a toddler.” She started to run a hand through her hair then cringed when her finger immediately got tangled in it. “It was ridiculous but not as absurd as the fact that last night I slept in the guest bedroom.”
“Why did you sleep there?”
“When I gave her up, I did my best to set aside any attachment I had to the person she would become. Sometimes my mind would try to imagine her as a child. Birthdays—April thirteenth by the way—were particularly difficult. I would pay attention to other girls who seemed to be around her age. I wanted to imagine my daughter growing up.”
She rolled her shoulders like that would displace some of the tension she clearly carried there. “Drinking helped me not to think about her. The drugs and the booze enabled me to tamp down my curiosity. Then the business got bigger and my life got busier. I managed to tamp down thoughts of her, which made me feel even worse. What kind of a mother could let her child slip from her heart?”
“I don’t believe you did that.” Unable to resist any longer, Alex reached out and drew her to him. He expected her to fight him, but she came willingly. A testament to how much she was struggling right now that she wouldn’t rebuff the comfort he offered.
She didn’t exactly sink into him but rested her head on his chest. He drew circles on her back with the palm of his hand, hoping to help her feel better.
“You’re right,” she said against his shirt. “It took more work and more drinking and more...of everything to keep myself shut off from thoughts of her. When I came to Magnolia and I didn’t have any of those crutches, regret and what-ifs ran me over like a freight train. But you know what happened?”
“What’s that?”
“I made peace with them. Not with what I had done or my guilt over giving her up. Instead, I allowed myself to imagine who she would have become.”
She pulled away and looked up at him. “Then she was here and more amazing than I could have imagined. I have no right to want a relationship with her, but I want it with every fiber of my being. So I’m going to hide out here with the curtains drawn unless the store catches fire or zombie apocalypse rains down on us.”
“At this point, nothing would surprise me.”
Mariella laughed before turning serious again. “As much as Heather wants to keep me a secret from her mom, I don’t think I can handle seeing the woman who raised my daughter. I owe her and part of me hates her because she succeeded where I failed. She’s a living reminder that I’m a failure. I hate myself for it.”
“No.” He cupped her face between his hands. “Don’t say that. You chose what you believed to be the best option for your baby. You can’t hate yourself for a decision you made from a place of pure love.”
She seemed to consider that for a moment. “You make more sense than I’d like to admit.”
“I’m brilliant,” he told her. “One hundred percent genius.”
“Also humble,” she agreed with another laugh. “Have I mentioned yet today that Amber was an idiot? Because I knew what she was trading for when she gave you up. Jacques is not only a subpar boyfriend, but he has a tiny you-know-what.”
Alex choked out a laugh. “That’s more information than I want. My corneas are burning.”
“You’re welcome,” she told him then lifted her arm and sniffed under it. “Lord, I need a shower. Do you care if I take one before the ravioli? I don’t think I’ll be able to truly enjoy our scrumptious meal if I’m distracted by my own smell.”
She really was something. “Have you ever had a filter?” he asked.
“Sure, I have one.” She started toward the hallway that he assumed led to the bedrooms. “I choose not to utilize it.”
“Good to know,” he said as he watched her walk away.
MARIELLARETURNEDFROMthe shower fifteen minutes later and let out an appreciative gasp at her newly cleaned kitchen. “You do housework, too? The next time I decide to get married I’m choosing you as my groom.”
She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. She and Alex weren’t exactly at the place where they could joke about marriage.
He laughed awkwardly. “I’m not getting married so no need to worry.”
“What makes you say that?” she asked as she moved toward the rough-hewn oak table, which had been set for two.
