Dark Redemption - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,21

shake my head yes, immediately regretting it.

"What about Marguerite? Is she there?" I ask, grasping onto one arm with my other hand.

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't really want to intrude on your family life,” I say, trying to be as indirectly direct as possible.

He furrows his brow.

"Oh, no, no. Marguerite and I aren't together. Is that what you thought?"

I take a step back. He takes one forward and grabs my elbow.

"Wait, did you think that Marguerite is having my baby?" I shrug, not knowing how else to react.

"No, no, not at all. She's actually…she’s my sister-in-law. She's married to my brother, Lincoln. They've been together for almost a decade. I was taking her to her doctor's appointment because he was busy at work. We went for a stroll in the park since she was feeling up to it.”

I hesitate.

I stand before him, uncertain as to whether I heard everything that's coming out of his mouth, or maybe I just made it all up.

I ask him to repeat himself and he does.

“Is that why you ran away? You thought that she was my wife and that we were having a child?" Dante asks.

I nod.

"No, it couldn't be further from the truth."

I swallow hard.

"Okay, let's go in. I think I need that drink,” I say, smiling ear to ear.

Following Dante into his home, I’m taken aback by the sheer height of the ceilings and the ornate design. The downstairs is a series of rooms flowing one into another. We walk past the library, and I hesitate and look out of the huge bay window, overlooking the ocean.

"It's beautiful here," I say.

He nods.

"Is this your house?"

"No, it's a family place, but Lincoln and Marguerite officially own it. They're coming tomorrow."

“So…you’re staying for the weekend?" I ask.

He nods, giving me a smile out of the corner of his lips. I can't help but feel consumed by the butterflies in the pit of my stomach. They first showed up when our eyes met, and have only escalated in intensity.

Dante offers me something to drink and pulls out a pitcher of lemonade. Following him out to the back patio, we sit down in Adirondack chairs and look at the expansive pool.

"I don't know what to say," I admit after a long pause and a rather uncomfortable one at that.

"I don't either.” He smiles.

I want to accuse him of not reaching out to me and to yell at him for not coming back from Chicago, but for some reason I don’t.

I'm just so relieved that he's not married and that baby isn't his that I can't even think.

"Tell me about your life," I finally say.

Our eyes meet, and he doesn't look away.

14

Jacqueline

I ask him about his life and what he's been up to, but he shakes his head no.

"Tell me about your mom," Dante says.

"She's doing well, almost totally recovered.” I smile. “They don't consider the cancer to be completely gone until it's been five years, but she's gotten another test, and she's going to have to get them every three months in the near future to make sure that it's not coming back, but so far so good.”

"I'm glad to hear that.” He sits back in his chair, looking out onto the pool.

"What you did for me…I was so upset and stuck in my grief, but I should have thanked you for saving her life."

"Well, let's be honest. When she ended up under sedation and unconscious, you weren't very happy with me and that surgery. I get it."

I swallow hard and take another sip of my lemonade.

"What about you? What's new with you?" Dante asks.

"I went back to school, finishing up my degree, looking for work. I should be done and graduating by August."

"That's great. I'm happy for you."

I nod. “I'll be a real journalist."

"You're going to do great."

There are all these pauses and stops in our conversation. It's like we're both hesitant, uncertain.

I ask him about himself, and he tells me about working long hours, taking on new clients. No specific details, just the amount of work.

And after we catch up, there's still this hesitation. It doesn't feel exactly like it did back in the hotel room where we gushed and we talked for hours into the night.

Something is different, and it's because we've both hurt each other. I want to apologize. Again. For real.

He deserves so much more than a simple thank you. He needs to know that he had changed my life. But I also want to tell him that I was