other’s sentences, for Christ’s sake. As I sat there, stills of them played in my head like a slideshow on fast forward.
Them dancing on the deck.
Mom reading to Dad on the beach.
Him grabbing her ass, and her giggling when they thought no one was paying attention.
All the I love yous.
The Mason jars.
The two of them wrote things down they loved about each other and exchanged them as gifts.
Who the fuck does that if you aren’t in love?
And that was the part I couldn’t reconcile.
Even though I’d found out he’d had a long-term relationship with another woman, I still had no doubt he loved my mother. So if he loved my mother, why would he do it?
Why?
Why?
Why?
The only answer that made sense was the one his mistress had given me. They’d gotten married so young, neither of them knew a life without the other, and my father hit a certain age and started to have an identity crisis.
A midlife crisis.
It wasn’t fucking right.
That was for sure.
But it’s also what had happened in Valentina’s marriage.
Fuck.
I was pissed as hell at my father, but that wasn’t what had my chest feeling hollow at the moment.
Valentina had been right all along.
I didn’t see it because I didn’t want to see it.
She’d been with her husband since she was sixteen—the same age my parents got together.
I wanted her to choose to be with me, but how could she decide what she wanted when she didn’t even know what was out there.
***
Shit.
This morning I’d read Val’s texts from yesterday, so I knew her son Ryan was in town. But I had no idea what she’d told him. I assumed nothing. Yet I couldn’t be sure, so I played it close to the vest. The two of them were out on the back deck, leaning over the railing looking at the beach when I walked up on the sand—hours after I’d left for my run.
“Hey.” I lifted my chin up at them.
“What’s up, man? Long time no see.” Ryan smiled.
“Hey.” Valentina’s voice was laced with hesitance.
I figured it was a good sign that he didn’t run down the stairs and punch me in the face for banging his mother. But while Ryan seemed chipper and relaxed, Val looked anything but. Seeing the veins pop from her neck as she stressed made me smile for the first time in two days. Why did seeing her freak out about someone finding out about us bring me such joy? Perhaps I was just a dick.
I walked up the stairs to their deck instead of mine and shook Ryan’s hand. The last time I saw him, he was only fourteen. Now he was almost as tall as I was. “All grown up. I take it you’re not going to want me to make sandcastles with you this year?”
Ryan smiled. “I’ve moved on to searching for mermaids. Maybe we can go find some tail together later.”
My eyes flickered to Val and then back, and I coughed. “You’re at University of North Carolina, right? How do you like it?”
“It’s great. My first year was a blast.”
He looked over at his mom and his face fell serious. Shit. Maybe I’d misjudged the situation and she had told him.
“Listen…I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about your parents.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
The simple reminder of my father swept away any momentary levity that had crept in. My shoulders went back to holding boulders.
“I’m gonna head home to shower.” I glanced at Val and then nodded to Ryan. “Good to see you.”
When I got out of the shower, I wasn’t surprised to find a text from Val.
Valentina: Everything okay? I came by last night but you were out cold.
I hadn’t even known she’d been here. But my phone was charged and there had been water and Tylenol on the end table. That made sense now.
Ford: Sorry about that. Just a long trip. I hadn’t eaten and had a few.
Valentina: No problem. I figured the trip might have been difficult. :-(
You could say that again.
She typed more before I could respond.
Valentina: Ryan surprised me. I know it sort of puts a damper on us spending time together this last weekend…
Yesterday, I would have said her son showing up on the last weekend I had to convince her what we had was more than a fling was the universe conspiring to rip my heart out. But today, without my brain swimming in alcohol, I was starting to think maybe fate had intervened.
Chicago had taught me a lesson. I