Sunset in Central Park (From Manhattan with Love #2) - Sarah Morgan Page 0,85

dreading this weekend, but now she wished it could last forever.

She settled herself into the nearest chair and moments later Matt joined her. He had a bottle of champagne and two glasses in one hand and a sweater in the other.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.” She took the sweater gratefully and wrapped it around her shoulders, watching while he poured champagne.

“To you.”

“Why are we drinking to me?”

“Because you saved the day and you survived sitting in the front row of a wedding. That deserves a toast.”

She took a sip of champagne. “I never thought I’d say this but it was a nice wedding.”

“But...?”

“No.” She shook her head. “There are no buts. Not this time.”

“You’re saying you believe they might be happy?”

She smiled. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“No.” He tilted his chair back and rested his feet on the railings. “I think that stuff with your parents affected you badly. Your dad’s affair—when something like that happens it’s bound to shake your belief system.”

It wasn’t something she talked about, but for some reason it was easy to talk to Matt. He wasn’t one of those people who thought listening was waiting for a gap in the conversation just so that they could talk about themselves. He didn’t just listen, he heard.

“I knew about it, Matt.” The words spilled out, as they so often seemed to do around him. “I knew he was having an affair. For six months before he finally walked out, I knew and knowing was horrible. I didn’t know what to do. I was fourteen years old and I was in charge of a secret that could blow my family apart.”

Matt didn’t move. For a moment she wondered if he’d heard her and then he stirred.

“You never told anyone?”

“No. My dad made me promise not to say anything.”

“He knew that you’d found out?” The legs of the chair landed on the deck with a thud. He turned to face her, shock etched on his features. “Frankie?”

“I found them together. I walked in on them having sex.”

“Shit.” Matt dragged his hand over his face. “In your house?”

“In my parents’ bedroom. My mom was away and I was supposed to be staying out late for drama club but it was canceled so I came home early. Mom had given me a key. Dad didn’t know that. I don’t think they talked much by that point. So I let myself in and then I heard my dad moaning and I thought he was hurt or something so I ran upstairs. The bedroom door was open and I—” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just say that they saw me so there was no pretending for anyone. I locked myself in my bedroom and my dad was hammering on the door. I don’t know what he did with her. She must have left, I guess.”

“Did you recognize her?”

“Vaguely. She worked with him. He made me promise not to say anything right then. He kept saying ‘You don’t want to break up our little family, do you?’ and ‘It’s grown-up stuff, Frankie, and you would never understand.’ And he was right about that—I didn’t understand. When my mom came home I stayed in my room and said I was sick. Which was true.”

He took her hand, warming it between both of his. “You never told her?”

She shook her head. “I had this secret and it was so huge it was as if another person had moved in with us. It sat at the dining table, and lay in my bed. I could never get away from it.” She stared out across the ocean, at the gunmetal sea and the dark shadows of the rocks. “I couldn’t concentrate. My grades dropped. A couple of my teachers asked if things were all right at home and I always said they were fine, but in reality my whole world was crumbling and I had no idea how to glue it back together.”

“You didn’t tell Eva and Paige?”

“No. They knew things weren’t great at home, but I didn’t give them the details. I didn’t want them to have the burden of knowing, and also I think part of me still hoped that if I didn’t talk about it, it might all go away. I think deep down I was still kidding myself that it might have worked out.”

“It didn’t.”

“No. I often wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t come home early that day. If drama club hadn’t been canceled, I would have stayed at