Page 120 of Wild Love
“It’s difficult not to be able to give your kid everything they want. Some things are just out of your control. Thank you for what you did.” He stares at the ground as he delivers the words. It hits me—Jerry’s uncomfortable thanking me. Somehow that makes me feel worse. I don’t deserve his thanks, and he wouldn’t be giving it if he knew how I ruined it for her.
“She did an incredible job.” That much is true.
He watches me with those parentalI know thingseyes. “I’m hungry. Somewhere around here to get breakfast?”
“Yeah, there are quite a few places within walking distance.”
He hits the lock on the key fob and starts down the sidewalk, stopping a few feet away. “Are you coming or what?”
I take Jerry to the café where Dakota and I came on several Sundays with Charli. He orders the same thing she always does, too, but I keep that to myself.
“So, you screwed up pretty good, huh?” he asks, catching me off guard again.
“You know?” Oh shit. Maybe he brought me here to kick my ass with an audience.
“No. She didn’t tell me anything, but she’s not here, and you look like shit. I’m old, but I’m not stupid.”
Man, he doesn’t hold back. So I decide not to either. I tell him everything. Okay, almost everything. I give him the short version of how I got her the job and then how I ruined it for her. I leave out how we decided to be slam buddies all summer. And truth, it was never just that. We both knew it. Keeping the focus on sex made it easy for us to give in. The traditional route was never going to work for us. We are different. She’s right about that, and those differences would have kept us from seeing how alike we really are underneath.
“I love her, and I miss her something fierce. How is she?”
“She’s back in Valley. Sounds okay. Sorry if you were hoping she was crying her eyes out over you every night.”
“I don’t hope that at all. I don’t ever want her to feel like this.” I wave a hand in front of me.
He chews his food, watching me carefully.
“I’m going to win her back. Or at least try. I would have already left, but I had a few commitments here I couldn’t bail on.”
With a thoughtful nod, he says, “Sometimes people need to come around on their own.”
“Are you saying that I shouldn’t go see her? Because I don’t think I can stay here hoping she’ll change her mind. I need her.”
“No. I’m not saying that. But what she might need is time.”
“I respect that, but I have to tell her how I feel.” I drop my gaze to the table. “Tradition and family, I know they’re important to Kota. She talks about you so fondly. And her mom. That awful pink couch.”
He actually laughs, just a tiny bit.
“My parents… we’re not close. But Kota, she’s like family. That’s how much I love and need her. I screwed up. I did. That’s kind of my thing. Just ask my dad. I ruined her job, but I have to make it right somehow.” The pit that’s been in my stomach all week grows. “It was so dumb. I wanted everyone to know she was mine. She asked me not to, but I did it anyway, and she paid the price.”
I don’t know why I’m telling Jerry this. He’s never going to approve of me, so he might as well hear just how big of a fuckup I am.
“Have you ever been so excited about something you just couldn’t keep it to yourself? You had to tell someone, or you’d burst?” I don’t wait for his answer. “That’s how I felt. I didn’t think. I just wanted everyone to know how much she means to me.” I shift in my chair, remembering that morning and wishing it had gone differently.
“If she’d have just told them we were married, they couldn’t have fired her.” My head snaps up. Oh shit.
Jerry’s brows raise, and his fork clatters on his plate. “I’m gonna need you to repeat that. Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out this time,Maverick.”
40
Dakota
On Sunday morning,otherwise known as the end of my sanity, I wake to Heath and Ginny in the kitchen making breakfast together. Well, Ginny is. She was so excited about moving out of the dorms and into an apartment where she could cook something besides noodles that taste like cardboard.
Her boyfriend sits on the counter next to her while she fries bacon in a pan.
“What are you making?” I ask, standing on the other side of the counter and flipping through yesterday’s mail.
