Insipid (28 page)

“No, Jade. You were never there. I never had you. Even when Cia was younger, I knew it in my heart. Your eyes give away so much more than you know. So it wasn’t just you that felt that way. I felt it too. I tried to deny it for as long as I could. In a way, it was bound to happen. You were going to leave me.”

I don’t say a word. I’m at a loss for offering him any comfort. Anything I attempt will be a lie.

He gulps down a portion of his wine and proceeds. “I know now that I never had you. I think that subconsciously, I always knew that. I tried to fill that void in me with my career, and yours with material things. I loved buying you things because those were the only moments that made you smile. And the rest of our emptiness was filled by Felicia.”

“You make me sound so shallow, so materialistic,” I answer sadly.

He gradually scoots himself forward so that our knees are almost touching. “No, that’s not what I mean at all. You took what you could, little snippets of happy moments, because that’s all you could do. The only way I realized this was when I fell in love with Cara. Her eyes, they tell me every single second how much she feels for me. There was none of that with you. Ever. And so that night, I wanted to hurt you so badly to repay you for what you had done to me. But you had no heart. Your heart was empty. The only way I knew to get to you was to hurt you physically.” He chokes up as he says that last word. To speak about the pain that you inflict on someone else is a valiant thing because it verbalizes the monstrosity of your actions.

“I didn’t press charges because I knew that I had caused you so much pain.”

His eyes dart around the room as if checking to see whether Cara is around. “No, Jade. What I did is no one’s fault but mine. You didn’t deserve that. I am truly sorry for everything.”

“I forgive you, Josh. I do. I wanted to come over to tell you that personally. I’m so glad that you and I have been blessed enough with our respective second chances.”

“Chris. Is he your second chance?” We’re close enough to touch although we choose not to. I know it’s because of the white elephant in the room. The restraining order.

“Yes,” I answer softly. “I’d like to think so, at least. He was robbed of the opportunity to meet his daughter. I’m dealing with that guilt right now, but he doesn’t seem to be lashing out about it yet.”

“He will. You have to know that he will. Feelings can never be bottled up for too long. You and I have learned that. Just be there for him when that time comes. You’ll make it through this, Jade. We both will.”

“I hope so,” I say as I place the empty wine glass on the side table and ready myself to leave. “I brought you a few things.” I hand him a shopping bag laden with items from our old home.

“Thanks. What are they?” He reaches his hand in and starts to unload the contents of the bag. There are cards and little crafts made by Cia for the only father she ever knew. He centers his attention on a white cup that says “Stanley” on it. “My Stanley cup!” His eyes start to brim with tears. “Oh, and here’s my Number One Dad trophy, too.” Tears stream down our faces as we gaze down at his name, etched carefully on the trophy in a child’s handwriting. “She ruined my Swiss Army knife to engrave this. I’m still surprised she didn’t hurt herself.”

“Well, that’s because she hurt our dining room table instead,” I comment, and our tears turn to laughter. I want to leave him with that sweet, ringing sound.

I straighten up my legs and stand up to leave. He hesitantly walks towards me and I hold my arms out to grant him permission to come closer. We hold each other tightly, my head on his chest and his big, strong arms wrapped around my waist. My protector, my savior.

“Thank you for saving me, Josh, for taking me in twenty years ago,” I murmur into his chest. “Thank you for giving us a home and a happy life. You will always hold a special place in my heart.”

“And you in mine, Jade. Always. Take care of yourself.”

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t see me to the door. When I look back to catch a glimpse of him for one final time, I see him in the arms of the woman he deserves.

“CHRIS! WHAT ARE
we doing?” I squeak as he helps me up a few raised stoops after leading me by my shoulders down what I surmise is a cement path. I’m blindfolded and very dizzy at the moment—the car ride in darkness was brutal. “Honestly, I think I’m going to be sick!” I try my best not to retch.

“Few more steps, Jae. We’re almost there.” He gently pushes me along and I hear the creaking of a door. “Okay! Here we are!” he says excitedly, removing my blindfold with a flourish.

I’m standing in the middle of a huge foyer surrounded by floor to ceiling windows and offset by a large, winding staircase to the right. I look directly at him and scrunch my face as my mind rapidly tries to process what is happening. He fishes into his pocket and proceeds to get down on one knee.

“Marry me, Jade Albin. I am so in love with you. Whenever I look into those eyes, all I can think about is the inspiration, the healing, and the peace that they bring into my life. My home is wherever those eyes are. Let’s build the life together that should have begun twenty years ago. Here, in our new home.”

I bring my hand to my mouth and start to cry. I’m overwhelmed, but not with the kind of emotion that he would expect me to feel. Instead, I’m filled sadness at my inability to elicit the reaction that he wants. Maybe I’m just too shocked. I can never give him up. He’s my only link to her,
I remind myself, as a visual of the Secret Agent notebook hits me smack in the middle of the brain.

“Oh, baby! It’s incredible!” I squeal, holding my hand up and allowing him to slip the ring through my finger. Its brand new glimmer reflects tiny dots of light across the whitewashed walls. “Let’s go see the rest of the house!” I turn on my heels and run up the stairs, with him following right behind me. We go from room to room, checking out all four of them on the second level, each the same size as the other.

“The master suite is on the third floor,” he announces proudly.

“There’s a third floor?” I let him take my hand and pull me to the end of the hallway where another set of stairs awaits. The master bedroom is an entire floor with two brick fireplaces, a sitting room, and two walk-in closets.

“Look up,” he suggests.

“A skylight.” I smile at him as he pulls me into his arms. “So much larger than the one we had, though. And you can stand underneath it.”

“How about we relive our old memories right now?”

“What a great idea, Mr. Wilmot,” I whisper as I stand on my toes and wrap my arms around his neck. “Oh, Chris. I’ve been waiting all my life for this.”
So why do I feel like I’m on the outside looking in?

“But?” He doesn’t hide the concern on his face.

“But nothing. I love you,” I declare out loud as I pull him down to the floor with me.

“ARE YOU COLD?”
he asks as I lie in his arms, looking up at the glass ceiling, our clothes strewn across the floor.

The vast and endless sky invites me to soar up high, to leave the ground and break free. A skylight to showcase the boundless prospect of chances and possibilities.

“No, I’m good.” I turn on my side to face him. “When did you close on this house?”

“Yesterday. I paid cash for it.”

I lovingly trace the tip of his nose with my finger. “Don’t you think this house is too big? What are we going to do with all those rooms?”

“Well, I was thinking that you could set up an office next to the baby room.”

Did I just hear that correctly? “Baby room?”

“You want to have kids, don’t you? Maybe we adopt one or two?”

“Chris. We’re in our forties. I don’t know that that’s a good idea for either one of us.”

The look on his face is one of bewilderment. “I want what you had, Jae. I want us to experience raising a child together.” He sits up and moves away from me. “Please tell me that’s what you want too.”

I place my hand on his arm to calm him down. “Oh, babe. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just want to make sure—”

“I want what you took away from me—is that too much to ask?” The change in his tone is drastic. The temperature of the room turns cold. Icy. I could swear that there’s a change in the color of his eyes. They’re dark, vapid, and condescending. “Is it, Jade?”

“No, Chris, it isn’t.” My first reaction would have been to stand up and walk away. This time I won’t do it. I’m going to see this through.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean that,” he says remorsefully.

“Yes, you did. But I understand. It’s okay.” I lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I think we’d better get going.”

“Okay,” he acquiesces and we get dressed in silence, neither one of us knowing what to say after this. This is the protrusive shadow of the past that will never leave us. It will always be a part of our life together and he will never ever recover from his loss.

We walk into the house thirty minutes later without having said a single word to each other. I do what I do best, stay busy to avoid thinking about the problems at hand. There are plates in the sink that need to be loaded into the dishwasher. I turn the faucet on and start to rinse them off. Chris comes up from behind and presses himself against me.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers as he kisses the back of my head. “I love you so much, Jade. You’re all I need. Forget what I said earlier at the house. My home is where you are. We can live a happy life, just you and me. I’m okay with that.”

I lean into his chest and turn my head, allowing his lips full access to mine. “I’m here no matter what, Chris. We’ll get through this together.”

“WELCOME!” MY MOTHER
greets the guests as they pile into my parents’ home. It feels more like one of those awards ceremonies on TV rather than an outdoor barbecue, with cars pulling up the driveway to unload various groups of well-dressed attendees intent on showing off their latest fashionable wear. Despite the words
Casual Attire
in the invitations sent out by my mother, people are still dressed to the nines.

“Mama, please don’t make me look like an idiot. I’m too old, for heaven’s sake, and this is my second marriage!” I argued frantically when she started with the planning.

“Relax, Jade. It’s just a simple get together. I’ll even hold it outdoors. It’s just nice to have something to celebrate after the past year that we’ve had.”

The kind look in my father’s eyes convinced me to give in. If my parents are so keen on advertising my eventual happiness to the world, so be it. My engagement to my childhood sweetheart—to them and to the rest of the city, it was an event worth celebrating, and now the house is filled with people, close friends as well as strangers.

My mother uses all of the experience she has with her own charities to plan this celebration. The garden is tastefully transformed to host this party. Tiki torches line the brick-paved walkway leading to the pool, where she’s added brightly lit palm trees, a hardwood dance floor, a live band and a large open bar. The last I heard from my mother’s assistant, there are 150 guests in attendance. Leya and the principals of Warner Consulting fly in to San Francisco to show their support for my newfound life. Everyone is genuinely happy that Chris and I have finally ended up together.