Page 19 of Cakewalk

“And just what kind of people are the Shaws?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. His ice-blue eyes were curious, yet welcoming, and made Gigi want to continue to spill all her secrets.

“The Shaws and the Hawthornes are see and be seen kind of people,” she laughed, trying to brush it off. For as much as she wanted to open up to Holden, she knew she couldn’t tell him everything.

Holden’s face was still for a moment as he took in her words. A nervous feeling took over Gigi as she waited for some kind of reaction from him. Would he understand it? Or would he just look at her like so many others and think “poor little rich girl.” Gigi didn’t think she could stand it if he did think that. He was the first person in a long time that she felt could maybe see her for, well, her. But the longer that blank expression sat on his face, the more she thought maybe she was wrong. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d been wrong about a man. It had taken her years to see her mistake with Bradley though.

“I get it,” he finally said. Gigi let out a sigh of relief, hoping she wasn’t too obvious about how much she’d been awaiting his answer. “Families don’t always understand the choices you make, even if you know it’s for your own good.”

“You say that like you have experience in the subject,” Gigi said, trying to turn the conversation off of her. She still knew very little about Holden, and all this sharing about her situation made her want to start asking questions of her own.

“I have some. My family doesn’t fully understand why I left the game.”

“The game?”

“Soccer, football, whatever you want to call it. I played for Chelsea over in the UK for a while.”

“You played professional soccer?” she said, trying to hide the shock in her voice. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at him closer, trying to figure out if she recognized him. Bradley had watched a lot of soccer a number of years ago when he was trying to win over some big deal British client. Liverpool had been the team of choice. In fact, it was their loss in the championship that had led to….

“I did,” he answered. His simple words pulled her back into the moment, and away from memories she had no business revisiting.

“And you just up and quit?”

“Something like that.”

“But why?” She knew she was prying, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to know everything about this man sitting across from her.

“It just didn’t seem right to keep playing after….” he trailed off.

“After…”

“After losing my wife.”

* * *

Holden

Well, that was something Holden hadn’t expected to reveal this afternoon. Hell, it wasn’t something he’d ever expected to tell Gigi. But there was something about her and the vulnerability she was showing him that made him want to show her she wasn’t alone. That there was someone else who understood her.

“You lost your wife? You’re a widower?” she asked, her face paling slightly.

“Yeah,” he managed to get out. Now that it was out there it just hung like a heavy cloud, and he didn’t know what else to say. Maybe this was not the way he should have gone about this. It’s not like he needed this to be something they had in common, something for them to bond over. He hadn’t talked about Hannah to anyone in years. Not since that last therapist he’d seen. The one who had suggested he find a hobby—to cultivate a new passion. Except there was no passion without Hannah.

“Can I ask what happened?” Gigi reached across the table, taking his hand as if they were old friends. The warmth of her touch was welcoming and spread throughout his entire body, catching him off guard. It’d been so long since another person’s touch had made him feel anything, and he had no idea what to do with it.

“Home invasion gone wrong. Police believe it was a bunch of druggies looking for cash, or something easy enough to convert into cash, and didn’t realize anyone was home,” he told her. Closing his eyes, he let the usual feeling of guilt wash over him as he thought about how she shouldn’t have been home alone that night. That if he’d been there with her, how everything would be different now. He felt a light squeeze on his hand and realized that Gigi was still holding it. Looking down at the connection, he noticed just how dainty her hand was. It fit so perfectly into his, and he liked the idea of it staying right there.

“I’m so sorry, Holden,” Gigi said, tears filling her eyes. Gone was the skittish look she’d had earlier when talking about her own family. But what replaced it surprised him more than a little. It wasn’t the same look of pity that most people gave him. It was one of simple sadness that only someone else who mourned a partner could understand.

“What was her name?” Gigi asked, just above a whisper after a long moment of silence.

“Hannah,” he whispered in return. Usually just the mention of her name brought along with it an unescapable pain. However, in this moment, with Gigi’s hand in his, the pain was somehow less. Like she had some magical powers absorbing it. Before he knew what he was doing, the words started tumbling out of his mouth. “First time I saw her was across the quad our sophomore year. I was kicking around a ball with some teammates, and she was leaning up against a tree drawing. I went up to her, made a bad joke about ‘drawing me like one of your French girls’ and when she actually laughed, I asked if I could buy her coffee. We got married a couple of weeks after graduation and moved over to London a couple of years later. Life was pretty good.”

“Until it wasn’t?”

“Until it wasn’t,” he responded. He could feel the weight of it all starting to close in on him. Pressing his fingertips over his heart, he tried to rub away some of the ache he felt. He could still see the nursery they had set up in the London flat. Hannah had promised not to go too overboard with the pink when they had found out they were having a girl. What he hadn’t accounted for was Hannah’s love of children’s literature and for her nesting to take the form of a massive mural on the wall opposite the window. She’d spent weeks debating which theme to go with, before finally settling on Winnie the Pooh.

Pushing up from the table, it only took him a few strides before reaching the butcher block. He wanted to slam his fist down on the hard wood, making him feel something other than the pain ripping through his chest at the loss of his girls. But he didn’t want to scare Gigi. Poor, sweet Gigi who had no idea who she was really dealing with. The thought flitted through his head, wondering if she would trust him so much to help her if she knew just how much he had failed Hannah.

“Holden, you don’t have to talk about it if it hurts too much,” Gigi told him, her sweet southern accent washing over him, comforting him in a way.