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12
Brit tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Maybe she should have called. But damn it, he’d made a surprise visit to her. Why couldn’t she? She looked at the door. Even though she had the house key for emergencies, being that Damian was home and his mom was probably still there, ringing the bell would be less invasive.
“Mom, just do it. Don’t look so nervous,” Libby said, next to her.
“I’m not nervous,” Brit whispered.
Libby rolled her eyes. “Sure.”
They’d hung out a lot as families, but after he’d declared his willingness to tell his kids about her, the idea of spending time with them made her hyperventilate like she was about to go inside a hot air balloon.
Libby knocked on the door, vigorously, against social convention. Then Amanda opened the door and jumped at her best friend for a hug.
“Libbey. You’re not going to believe what happened,” she said, snatching Libby inside.
Did the gift from the souvenir shop that Damian had bought her please her so much? Brit walked in, too familiar with the place, and dashed to the living area. “We ended up changing our—” she started, then her gaze collided with an image that knotted her tummy so bad, she felt immediate cramps.
Violet, her friend, talking close to Damian. Violet’s husband and her semi-official boyfriend.
Guilt sank inside her like a rock, anchoring her feet to the floor. Her gaze darted between Damian and Violet, more than once. The thumping of her heart muzzled the background noise, the kids chattering loudly and Amelia’s greeting her. She’d met his mother before, in passing and birthday parties. The woman still looked charming, even with a part of her face with the skin a bit thicker than the other. She imagined even with all the treatments Amelia could have done, when she got burned, she had the scars for too many years before her son turned into a doctor and could help her out.
Brit stilled, hoping this meeting was some alternative universe and not part of her life. Not today—not when she was supposed to seal the relationship they shared, not end it.
“Brit,” Violet’s sweet voice interrupted her thoughts. Before Brit released her tongue clinging to the roof of her mouth, Violet strode to her and gave her a hug. “I’m so glad to see you,” she said, sighing.
Brit slowly returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around her friend’s. Heat spread through her cheeks, so she avoided looking over at Damian’s side. “Violet, when did you come back?” she managed to ask when her friend released her hold.
Violet’s eyes were a tad puffy, even if a gleam flickered in them. “A couple of hours ago. I didn’t want to add more drama, so I came home first then I was going to call you and the girls. There’s so much to catch up on. How are you, my dear? You look amazing.”
She’d come home. Home. The word stroked a chord with her, and hurt her more than just a little. At last, she strayed a glance to Damian, to find him restless, running his fingers down his face. He probably had been just as surprised as she. If he had known Violet was in his house, he wouldn’t have invited Brit to come over after their flight landed.
“I’m stunned to see you,” Brit said. “Are you okay? We’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m okay now,” Violet said, her throat visibly working. “I know I let you guys down by disappearing and not keeping touch, but I was afraid if I shared my idea, you guys would talk me out of it.”
“It’s good to hear you’re doing well,” Brit said. Her friend had lost some weight, which wasn’t a whole lot to begin with, and a couple of dark circles under her pretty blue eyes. Poor thing. Violet hadn’t gone out to Europe on a vacation, Brit remembered. Whatever dark ghosts had haunted her, she’d needed to fight them on her own. “I’m sure the kids are so happy to see you,” she said truthfully.
“I’m happy to see them too,” Violet said, her voice shaky. This emotional quality had never been a part of old Violet; she had always been in control, contained and graceful. The woman in front of her made Brit feel even worse for fucking her husband. “I hear a lot about you. Amanda couldn’t keep quiet about how much you’ve helped them when I was away.”
“They are precious,” Brit said.
The doorbell rang, startling Brit. She blinked, wishing she could just take Libby and leave, but her daughter was upstairs in Amanda’s room. If she dashed, Violet would no doubt find her behavior odd.
Hell, she found it odd.
The whole situation sucked.
“Must be the pizza,” Violet said, and dashed to the door. “I’ll go get it.”
Violet left, and Brit didn’t find the strength to move. Her breath caught in her throat, her pulse accelerating like she’d done a strenuous workout. If only.
“Brit, I didn’t know,” Damian said, and she lifted her gaze to him, wondering if he’d find in her eyes the same emotions menacing her insides: frustration, guilt and emptiness. When her eyes found his, she noticed a redness below his lids, and wondered if he’d cried too. “We’ll talk later.”
She shook her head, willing the intrusive thoughts away. What could they possibly tell each other? Was their love an inflated fling, or the real deal? Didn’t matter. She’d waited so long to hear loving words from a worthy man, and after all this, his feelings for her or vice-versa no longer mattered.
The scent of cheese and pepperoni swirled around her, and she found Violet carrying three large pizza boxes. She shuffled her weight from one foot to the other, forcing herself to move otherwise she’d create roots on the spot.
“Weird. My car is parked on the driveway, but wasn’t here when I came,” Violet said.
