He touches my arm. “It’s not the end of our story, Ella. I still love you. We could have a life. Get married. Have kids.”
“Married? You barely mentioned the word in the eighteen months we were together. Then you showed up at the hospital and wanted me to go home with you. Now you think we should get married?” I laugh harshly. “Seems to me this is a case of wanting something you can’t have.”
“I know you want to be a wife and mother,” he says. “I saw the magazines you read. I heard what you and your friends talked about.”
“Lots of women want those things. It doesn’t mean I would settle for someone who cheats on me.”
“Cheat,” he says. “One time. It was a moment of complete stupidity and weakness. I know you can get past it if you give me a chance.”
“I have to go.” I turn and run.
“That wasn’t a no!” he shouts after me.
He’s right. I’ve always wanted to get married and have kids. My parents were the perfect example of a happy couple when I was growing up. He brought her flowers. She rubbed his feet. They kissed every time they saw each other after work. When I go home for a visit, they’re still that way, even after all these years. Of course I want what they have.
The irony is that I want it with a man who probably isn’t capable of giving it to me. Then there’s Corey. He’s the safe bet. The stable tax attorney whose idea of risky behavior is to go horseback riding in the summer. What if he’s right, and I can get past the cheating? If it was just the one time, would he really risk everything by doing it again?
The truth is I always saw myself with someone like him. Corey is a lot like my dad. Down to earth. A homebody. Pragmatic. He gets along with my parents like he’s their long-lost son.
I glance back, and he gives me a wave.
I wonder what Mom and Dad would think of me seeing a musician who won’t let me touch him because of something horrible his father did to him as a child.
I run so hard I can’t think about marriage, men, or molestation.
~ ~ ~
The next day, fresh out of the shower after another solo run, I race to answer the phone. It’s Bria. “Hi. How’s the new place?”
“It’s great. I’m sure you’ve heard all about it from Liam.”
I sigh. “Actually, I haven’t.”
After a moment of surprised silence, she says, “Are you telling me he hasn’t contacted you since we got back?”
“He texted me Sunday night. Nothing since.”
“Four days ago? That jerk. I ought to—”
“Bria, you can’t force the man to call me. Pushing him will only make things worse.”
“Why are you being so nice about it? He’s being a jackass.”
“He’s probably thinking things through.”
“Things? What sort of things?”
I don’t respond.
“He opened up to you, didn’t he? Of course he did. You guys were practically together twenty-four-seven in Florida.”
“He kind of did but only a little.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Listen, I don’t presume to know what happened in his past. It’s not something Crew has shared with me, but if it’s anything like what Crew went through, I feel your pain. It was hard on us in the beginning.”
“I’m not sure there’s an us.”
“You need to find out. We’re moving to the new rehearsal studio tomorrow. How about meeting me for lunch at IRL?”
“That might be awkward.”
“It will be a test. You know, to see how he reacts.”
“Maybe I should wait for him to call.”
“Ella, do you want to be with him?”
“Yes.”
“Come at noon. I’ll text you the address.”
“Okay, but only because I miss you. Now let’s change the subject. Have you and Crew picked a wedding date?”
“Lord, no. We’re going to be pretty busy. We’ll sit down in a few months and try to figure it out. I’m not in any hurry. I’ve got the ring on my finger, and that’s all that matters.”
“Are you going to change your name?”
“Good question. While I love the thought of being Mr. and Mrs. Rewey, my music career has been built on me being Brianna Cash.”
“So become Mrs. Rewey legally but keep your maiden name for the band.”
“Maybe. You do realize you wouldn’t have to change your name if you married Liam. I mean, how often does something like that happen?”
As if the thought hadn’t ever crossed my mind. “I’m