Page 64 of For The Days We Can't Forget

“He gave it to me,” I admitted, with a smile on my face.

“That’s not the behavior of a man who doesn’t have feelings.”

“Then what should I do?”

She sighed heavily and slapped my hand affectionately. “Men are hardheaded. Even the good ones. So, give him a couple of days. If he doesn’t get out of that funk on his own—and I bet he won’t—talk to him. That is, if you want to pursue this relationship with him. If you’re just looking for a fun time, then let him go. Otherwise, you’ll both end up hurt. And so will that adorable little girl.”

There was no way in hell I was walking away. Danny and Sofia were mine, and I would prove that to him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I was an idiot. Or a jerk. Maybe both. Most likely both.

After almost losing my daughter and finding my mom and woman hurt in my own home, I was having a hard time reconciling my feelings. I felt like a failure for letting it happen, and for not having put an end to it already. I felt I was being selfish for imposing on Lissie that kind of life when she had so much more to accomplish and figure out. I felt insecure about our relationship, afraid I’d ruin it, just like I couldn’t save my marriage.

That’s why when the Bryants invited me and Fee to have lunch with them on Thanksgiving—my mom was traveling again to see my aunt—I jumped on the opportunity, telling Lisa I wasn’t sure I could go to Thanksgiving dinner with their parents.

Once again: I was an idiot.

We were the last ones to arrive at Rosie and Jackson’s. But not the last ones to walk inside. Letting Fee inside first, I closed the front door behind her, letting my daughter under the great care of Haley, then I strode to Mia’s car, joining her and Hugo inside without her prompting.

“You’re getting lunch to go? I didn’t know this was how Thanksgiving would play out today.”

She graced me with a small smile while stroking a worried Hugo perched on her lap. Seeing the sorrow in her eyes, every small smile counted as a win.

“I haven’t walked inside since his memorial,” she admitted quietly. “The second to last time I was there was last Thanksgiving. He and I were kind of stranded. It’s been a year since we were together in my parents’ home. And we’re coming closer to a year without him.” Her voice broke at the end, and I was unsure about how to help. So, I let her talk. “I can’t walk inside and see his face everywhere again. I can’t look at his pictures. I can’t face myparents and Haley and Gabe knowinghewas the one who should be here.” Her shoulders sagged, and she took off her glasses to wipe away the tears she couldn’t keep at bay. “I failed them all, I cost us his life. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“How was it supposed to be like? Us getting together for Thanksgiving without you? How would that be better?”

“Haley and Gabe would still have him,” she argued softly, and I wasn’t sure if she was still ranting or answering me. Mia peered up at me with red, shiny eyes and a red nose. “It wasn’t supposed to be him.”

I wiped another tear on her cheek. “It wasn’t supposed to be you either.”

“I’d make the exchange if I could.”

I had no doubts about it. “And that wouldn’t solve shit. We were in a dire situation, with no way of winning. No one but you blames you for what happened.” I could tell she wasn’t convinced. I doubted she’d ever be. “Let’s go inside. If it gets to be too much, you hightail out of here, and I’ll find whatever excuse for you.”

After a while, she nodded and got out of the car. I followed her to the entrance with Hugo, who kept checking back to see if she was behind him. Before I could walk up the front steps, she diverted to the side of the house that led to the back. I tilted my head in question.

“I can’t walk through there. I’m not ready to see him again.”

I nodded in understanding. The Bryants believed in photos. Their living room was filled to the brim with family pictures. You could tell a whole story just by looking at them. Even Sofia and I had made it to their wall. Unsurprisingly, Andrea wasn’t in any of them.

Walking through the front door would mean being bombarded with the many photos of Zach and what our family was missing. That Mia decided to come was already a huge feat.

I draped my arm over her shoulder, pulled her into my chest, and kissed her temple. “Lead the way.”

If she wasn’t ready to face it all, I’d respect it. Baby steps.

Things were a little different at the Bryants’ home. The signature turkey was nowhere to be found, and given it was a lunch occasion, there was no game going on yet. But with Rosie being Brazilian, Mia and Zach never cared that much about football. Their thing was soccer. If you talked to them about Joe Montana, they’d ask you if he was a client or someone we should investigate—that had actually happened. But if you dared to say Maradona was better than Pelé, then all hell would break loose—that also had happened.

Another peculiar thing was that we got to eatfeijoada—a Brazilian stew of beans with beef, pork, and bacon I gorged on every time they made it. We still got to say what we were thankful for, and it warmed my heart that anyone still had something to say after the year from hell we’d just lived.

Although, it wasn’t easy when Mia said she was thankful for our patience in dealing with her that last year. Or when Haley thanked us for still embracing her and Gabe as members of the Bryant clan, even after everything that had happened. It was even worse when Gabe claimed he was thankful because we were one day closer to havingZachyback.

It said a lot about the man Zach was that even when the house had more than Bryants at the table, his absence was still painfully screaming.

Despite the grief surrounding us, though, there was something bittersweet about that day. The Bryants’ house was surely full of love and acceptance. Ben, Haley, and I knew that firsthand.

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