you something,” she finally said, never allowing her eyes to reach mine.
“Anything.”
“If you’ve been here this whole time, why haven’t you reached out to me?”
“Sweetheart,” I muttered, wiping a hand over my mouth. “I don’t—”
“No,” she cut me off, lifting her gaze to mine, to reveal the pain and rejection she held inside. “If I’m going to consider making this work with you, I need to know what kept you away. I mean, I got it, you needed to learn to be alone, but you’ve been here. How could you just ignore the fact that I’ve been living five minutes away? How could you hope for me to wait for you, and then never reach out once you were here?”
Scratching the back of my neck, I pulled in a deep breath, then said, “I haven’t ignored it, but—”
“But, you have, because if it really bothered you, if you really wanted me back, you would’ve—”
“I couldn’t,” I interjected sharply, before raking a hand through my hair and shaking my head. “Andy, I treated you like shit. I fuckin’ hit you. How the hell was I going to show up at your parents’ house and beg you to take me back, when I don’t believe I deserve your forgiveness in the first place? You just said you don’t know how your dad’s gonna react to you talkin’ to me now. What if I just showed up at his door?”
Her blue eyes softened, as she asked, “Well, would you hit me now?”
“What?” I replied, exasperated. “God, no! Andy, the reason I—”
“I know why you did it. You thought I was talking like a crazy, strung-out junkie, and in your crazy, strung-out junkie mind, that’s what you felt you needed to do to snap me out of it.” She reached across the table, and to my surprise, took my hand in hers. “Vinnie, we both did things we never should’ve done, and in the right frame of mind, we never would’ve done them in the first place. But that’s the thing; we weren’t in the right frame of mind. We were sick.”
“Yeah, well,” I grumbled, with my eyes fixed on her hand in mine, “that’s no excuse for bein’ an asshole.”
“No, maybe not,” she agreed. “But you’re not an asshole, I know that. And, believe it or not, my parents know it, too, even if they are skeptical of our relationship. So, if you had come to my door, I’m telling you right now, they wouldn’t have turned you away. I wouldn’t have let them.”
The corner of my mouth lifted in a lop-sided smile. “Oh, no?”
Andy laughed, shaking her head. “Baby, the only reason I was staying away from you is because you asked me to, not because I wanted to.”
Grief and guilt are heavy feelings to carry all the time, and my shoulders had been permanently slouched with the weight, or so I thought. But at that moment, when I knew our relationship and marriage hadn’t been left to die with our addiction, relief helped to lighten the load, and I sat up a little straighter.
She smiled and squeezed my hand. “So, Jenna’s basement … what's it like?”
“Hey, Kev!” I called, and my cashier and dishwasher popped his head out from the kitchen. “Clean this up, will ya? I'm gonna get outta here.”
“You want us to lock up?”
“Yeah, man,” I nodded, standing up and leading Andy to the door. “I'll be back in the morning, but just so you know, I might be late.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
ANDREA
Jenna lived on a quiet street a few towns over from where I grew up. Her house was a modest ranch, with a cozy front porch and stained glass door to welcome your entry. The yard was beautiful and clearly professionally landscaped, showcasing a series of white rose bushes and lavender that lined the flagstone walkway. It looked like a picture and something a family had never lived in, except for the toys on the lawn giving it away.
“It’s so beautiful here,” I complimented, as Vinnie pulled up to the curb.
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “I mean, it's not as nice as your parents' place, but ...”
It dawned on me that maybe he had done all of this—rehab, therapy, moving, and buying a new business—to simply impress my family, and I gawked at him with a blend of hurt and pity blanketing my heart.
“Don't do anything for them,” I said firmly, and he shook his head, incredulous.
“Sweetheart, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't give a fuck about