Page 93 of Love Deep
I turn, and the expression on her face crumbles my broken heart into pieces.
“Mom?” she says. “Dad’s not coming?” Her tone is hopeless and dripping with disappointment.
I clamber out of the car and slide into the back seat next to Riley. I undo her seat belt and pull her onto my lap. “I don’t know. Let me read it properly.”
With Riley sitting on my lap, I open the phone and read the text in full. She’s seen the worst of it. There’s no point hiding it now.
It’s even worse than I first thought. He’s not coming, and he’s not going to be able to reschedule because of prior commitments. Wasn’tRileyhis ultimate prior commitment? Everything else in his life seems to come before her since he moved to Florida.
“Mom, that means I won’t see him all summer. I’ll be nine before I see him again!”
I pull her against me, trying to provide a little comfort. There’s nothing I can say that’s going to make this better. Nothing I can do. Her father doesn’t put her first. I have no idea what that must feel like, what that must do to her brain. To her heart. But it breaks mine.
“I’m so sorry, sweet girl.” I press a kiss to the top of her head and I don’t let go, even though it means we’re both going to be late to class. It’s on days like this that I wish I had a different job. One where I wasn’t in the same school as Riley. I could take the day off and keep Riley home with me. I’m inches away from getting back in the driver’s seat, driving us both home and putting on a movie.
This isn’t fair to her.
Life isn’t fair.
“Mommy, I don’t want to go to school. And I don’t want to see Daddy ever again! You can’t make me.”
I close my eyes. I wish I could take away the pain she feels. If she hadn’t seen the text, maybe I could have called him and given him hell. Told him he needed to step it up or he’d lose his daughter’s love and respect. He’s going to get that call from me anyway. But it won’t take away the disappointment Riley feels now. That’s what I want to do. Scoop up her pain and bury it deep in the mountainside, where it will never surface again. Riley deserves better.
This is exactly why I didn’t want to date after Riley’s dad and I broke up. I didn’t want another man in her life tolet her down. One is plenty. My heart breaks for her, and I hope against hope that she doesn’t learn to love men who let her down and leave her. I don’t want her to have to go through this any more than once. With her dad.
In that moment, I’m grateful Fisher left when he did. I’m pleased there’s no hope that he’s ever coming back. That way, he can’t hurt Riley. He can’t hurt me.
THIRTY-THREE
Fisher
I used to spend a lot of time in the Met, but as I take the steps from the exit, I realize it’s been years since I’ve visited. And after my tour today, I wonder why.
The three days since I’ve landed back in New York have been miserable. I’ve become an expert at putting on a happy face, but all I think about is Juniper. I hoped the Met might help somehow. I thought that maybe I’d feel closer to her. But all I thought about as I made my way around is how I wished she and Riley were here. How we could have had brunch and then spent the entire afternoon wandering around. Juniper would be able to tell me about the works. I’d see her light up in the way that she does when she’s around art or talking about art.
But she’s not here. Neither is Riley.
I hail a cab and the knot in my stomach intensifies. A New York cab has always brought me a weird sense of freedom. When I first arrived in the city, I took a cab up Broadway and I felt like I was finally home after feelingout of place during my college years—probably because my mom and dad’s divorce threw me for such a loop, I didn’t know which way was up. But today, it’s just me and this huge city that has been home for so many years… and for the first time ever, I feel like I don’t belong here.
Thankfully, I’m meeting Bennett, Worth, and Jack tonight. They’ll help me take my mind off things. I always belong with them.
My phone buzzes. It’s a message from Jack.
Change of plans. We’re going to my club. See you there.
I tell the driver of the change in destination. We’re only a few blocks away. The sooner I get there, the better. I’m clinging to the hope that when I see my friends, I’ll start to feel better. I’ll start to heal.
Jack’s club is like something out of the start of the twentieth century. It’s all tall columns and gold leaf. I’ve been to a lot of private members clubs all over Manhattan. The artists I work for have belonged to every single one in the city. Except for Jack’s. You don’t get into this place without lineage and old money. Both things Jack has in spades.
I climb the steps, give my name at the reception desk, and I’m shown to one of the lounges. Jack and Bennett are already there.
They stand and we hug. It feels like forever since I’ve seen them. I know it’s only been a few weeks since I’ve seen Jack, but so much has happened since it feels like a lifetime.
“You look like shit,” Bennett says.
I force a grin. “Thanks, mate.”
“I mean it. Are you sleeping?”
