Page 78 of One Kiss Isn't Enough
Aria eyes me before grabbing a large bowl from the lower cabinet and I take that as my cue to unwrap Chloe’s cream cheese.
Looks like the dessert will be done before the actual meal at this rate.
“Bastian also mentioned she’s a nurse. Should be good to have one of those in the family.”
“Family,” Aria says and rolls her eyes.
“I didn’t mean in a mob way.”
“Her last name is Fawn,” I comment to no one in particular and unwrap the next bar of cream cheese. “I wonder if she knows if we’re related.”
“Like biologically? Or from… Is your last name your mother’s or did you get that from a…?” Aria stops mid-thought and it’s then that I realize from the look on her face that she was going to say foster family but stopped herself because she thought it would hurt me to hear it. She stopped herself because she knows about the fresh wounds.
She knows because Carter told her.
Or maybe she’s known since I came back. I wonder if Carter told her everything all the way back then.
“You know I still love you, right?” I question Aria and quickly add, “And that I’m happy for you, both of you?” I look between them both, hoping they know it’s true. I may be held together by glue and tape and questioning my decisions, but I know I’m happy for them.
“I know,” Aria answers with kind eyes. She repeats, “I know.”
DANIEL
Tyler always hid it from her. He was good at it though.
Tyler’s all I can think about as we sit down at the table. Three brothers and a friend. One brother late, as per usual. Another never coming to a family dinner again.
He didn’t have this problem with Addison. He was good at hiding it. He hid so much from her; I just don’t know how he could do it.
“The candles are a nice touch,” Addison says and smiles warmly at Aria, who does a small curtsy and the three girls let out a peal of feminine laughter.
Addison’s is short, genuine. But it disappears quickly. It’s like the warm water of the ocean, splashing on the tips of your toes before retreating all too soon. I miss it already. I find myself staying still, wanting it to come back.
The day must’ve gone well for her. With a glass of wine in her hand and a beautiful flush in her cheeks, she’s unwinding with the help of the alcohol.
“Just let me smell one more time,” Aria says and inhales close to the large goblet at the same time Carter wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her into his lap. Another wave of giggling leaves the women and then is replaced by soft hums as the other two women are kissed and kiss back, falling into their seats for dinner.
Mine’s already seated, and when I look to her, her lips are on the wineglass. So instead of kissing her, I place my hand over hers on her lap. My fingers slip into the spaces between hers, feeling her soft skin, her warmth. Before she places the glass back on the table, her fingers close around mine, bringing them closer together, and she doesn’t let go. Not until the large bowl of antipasto salad is passed.
“Looks delicious, ladies.” Sebastian’s compliment is rewarded with a story from Aria about how she learned a new recipe for the main dish.
Lasagna, candlelight, and delicate dishes, the hum of chatter and constant smiles. Everything in the room is full of life, but that’s not how I feel. It’s not the reality I’m living in.
If Tyler were here though, he’d fit right in, and that would help Addison. He was good at hiding. He would have been good for her.
I wash the thought away with a single swig of the bourbon in front of me. I try to tell myself he’s on my mind because of what happened recently. And not because I truly think Addison would be better off if he were still here.
It’s not like before. Nothing is. I have to remind myself of that sometimes. The memories of what used to be, the reminder of Tyler and what life was like back then…it’s an ebb and flow of past and present. We’re better now. So long as we’re together. I won’t let anything change that.
Reaching up onto the table, Addison’s grasp is small and comforting when she lays her hand on my wrist. It’s a shock to my system to feel her touch in this moment.
“You okay?” Her question is soft and murmured so no one else can hear.
“Fine,” I answer her because it’s automatic. I don’t tell her more because she doesn’t ask. She doesn’t let go like I expect her to though. She eats with her left hand, leaving her right on mine. And I leave my hand just where it is, needing to feel that warmth, needing to feel her to make all this regret go away.
So long as I have her, it’s all okay. I just need to know I still have her.
* * *