Chapter 15
Matt
When I wake up with Cadence in my arms, it feels like nothing could be better than this. Then I watch her while she gets ready in the morning and that tops it. Her graceful movements as she puts her clothes and her makeup on seduce me into a trance. But then we walk hand in hand into The Steam Room together for coffee before work and I realize that everything with her is downright amazing.
“Whatcha gonna get?” I ask her as we approach the counter.
She turns around to face me and walks backwards, still holding my hand. Her smile is free, her hair is down and wild, and white sweater makes her look professional but also just sexy enough. I love this look on her.
“Coffee, a toasted bagel with grape jelly, and probably another coffee.” She giggles at herself and blows a breath upward that displaces her bangs, and it’s fucking adorable. “I kind of have a long day booked today.”
“Nothing you can’t handle,” I tell her, squeezing her fingers and tugging her closer to me.
She easily comes into my arms, and I swing an arm around her shoulders as we keep moving toward the counter.
“Grape jelly gets me through everything. The coffee’s just because I like it.” She laughs against my chest.
This woman and her damn grape jelly.
This is what I’ve been missing. This is what I haven’t allowed myself to have. This is what I deserve.
Happiness.
With a woman I can trust.
But the happy trust bubble bursts into shards when we get in line to order coffee and breakfast and I spot Joyce at “our” table in the back. Tears sparkle in her eyes, and her hair is pulled up into a ponytail—which makes her look much more like the Joyce I dated years ago. Which stops me dead in my tracks.
“Hey.” Cadence waves a hand near my face. “You okay?” she asks. “It’s our turn. She needs to know what you want.”
I look at Cadence and then, behind her, notice that pretty blonde I saw behind the counter when I was here last time. But I suddenly remember that I was supposed to meet Joyce here fifteen minutes ago, and with both her and Cadence in the room, I have no idea what to do.
Cadence follows my gaze. Then she looks back at me. “Is that…”
I nod in jerky movements. And then Joyce glances up and notices me. A smile breaks out over her features, but when she sees Cadence, it dies down a bit. Not all the way. She must actually be happy for me, but something is still wrong.
“I’ll get you something,” Cadence says before giving my hand a comforting squeeze and heading back to the counter.
I mutter, “Thanks,” around my shock and start my approach to Joyce. When I reach her, she stands up, but I wave her back down. “I am so, so sorry,” I say, standing at the edge of the booth.
“I can see why you’d be so distracted,” she says, glancing at Cadence, who’s handing her credit card over to the barista. Then Joyce wipes her eyes with a napkin. “She’s really pretty, Matty. I’m happy for you.” She goes to tuck some hair behind her ear, but it’s pulled back, so it doesn’t accomplish anything. Just the nervous tick she’s always had, which causes pain in my chest.
The woman she is now is so much more than the girl she was when we were together. When she ripped my heart out and took it with her to wherever she went when she left with our baby. When she suffered through a miscarriage without me and left me a brokenhearted mess reading an email I shouldn’t have had to receive in the first place. But that was then. We’re here now, and she has no power to hurt me anymore.
So I say, “Thanks. I am too,” and leave it at that. I don’t have to apologize for enjoying my life right now. I apologized for not being here, and I can make that up to her, but that’s that. “Look, we can reschedule if you’d like. You still have a few days in town, right?”
“I leave on Saturday, but that’s okay,” she says, picking at the cardboard on her coffee cup. “We should probably just leave it like this anyway. Things seem good, you know?”
I put my hands out to my sides. “I can at least get you more coffee. I owe you that, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” she quietly utters, which cuts deeper than she probably meant it to.
But I don’t get to question it. Cadence appears next to me, two coffees and a bag in her hands. She hands me one of the coffees and sets the bag on the table.
“I didn’t know what you wanted to eat, so I got a few things,” she says to me before reaching her hand out to Joyce. “Hi. I’m Cadence.” Her tone is pleasant. It’s probably the professional one she uses for work. Not the one she really wants to use, but we’re adults.
Joyce rises from the booth and grabs her purse off the seat. Hooking it over her shoulder, she shakes Cadence’s hand. “Joyce. Nice to meet you.”
“I thought you might like a bagel, Joyce,” Cadence says, digging into the bag. “I haven’t been here yet, so I don’t know if they’re good, but you can’t really go wrong with bread and grape jelly.” Her side-eyed look at me isn’t missed even though I’m kinda freaking out.
Inside, I’m melting over Cadence’s thoughtfulness and also attempting to work through a fried brain over these two women being in the same room. Not in a million years did I think I’d actually get with Cadence, but not in a billion years did I think they’d meet. Ever. So…yeah.
“Oh, thank you,” Joyce responds, “but I already ate. I appreciate the thought though.”
“Don’t tell me you love strawberry jam like this guy.” Cadence hooks her thumb in my direction.
“Ugh, no,” Joyce laughs. “That stuff is nasty.” Then she pats her stomach. “Just full. But thanks.”
Cadence grins at her. “Two for me, then.” Then she shrugs. “Or maybe you’ll learn to like grape jelly,” she says to me.
“Maybe,” is all I can manage to say. Then I dare to take a sip of my coffee.
“Well, I’m off,” Joyce says, securing her purse on her shoulder with her thumb. “I hope you two have a great day. It was great to meet you, Cadence.” She turns to me. “It was good to see you again, and thanks for the chat.”
Before I can speak again, she breezes past us. But, before she’s too far away, she turns back.
“Oh hey. Will you say hi to your grandpa for me? I always did like him and felt bad about…” She gazes at the ground. “You know.”
I nod at her. “Sure. I’ll see him tomorrow night and tell him.”
“Thanks.” She gives us a small wave and then heads out the door.
“That was intense,” Cadence breathes out once Joyce has disappeared. “You okay? I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” She takes my free hand and squeezes in a show of support.
“Yeah.” I stretch the word out because I don’t know what else to say. Then I drink some more of my coffee.
“Seems like there was more to that than she let on, but hey. I don’t know her that well.” Cadence shrugs and sips her drink before pulling her bagel out and munching on it. “Want to sit?”
No. No, I don’t want to sit with my new kind-of girlfriend in the place where my old girlfriend and I used to sit. No, I don’t want to think about there being more to Joyce’s visit than she let on. No. Just no.
But Cadence isn’t Joyce. And I can make new and happier memories. So I take the seat Joyce was just occupying and have breakfast with Cade. And ignore the pull in my gut that tells me that she’s right.
Joyce never makes things that easy. So what the hell else could there be?
∞∞∞
Cadence
Work, working out, and wedding. The three Ws have made me so busy for the rest of the week that, by Friday night, we haven’t spent any more time together. But I did make it clear that I need my own life. I need time to work toward running that marathon, and I have a lot of clients to juggle. Luckily, I closed on a house this morning, so this month’s bills are more than taken care of. One less thing to worry about while I’m spending the night before my sister’s wedding with her.
“Cade,” Gina says, raising her wine glass as if to toast. “I really couldn’t have done this without you. You’re so organized and helpful.” Her gushy smile makes me think she should quit on the wine for tonight if she doesn’t want a headache tomorrow. And who wants a headache at their wedding?
“Anything for my baby sister,” I respond, lifting my wine glass and touching hers with it in a cheers gesture. “I can’t believe it’s happening tomorrow. Where’d the time go?”
She giggles, stretching herself out on her bed. “That’s what happens when you meet a guy and fall in loooove.” She sings the last word, making it way longer than it needs to be.
I gasp and toss one of her throw pillows at her. “I’m not in love, Gina.” Not even the buzz of the wine will get me to admit that.
“Say what you want,” she says, squeezing the pillow, “but I saw the way he looks at you, and I know what that look does to women like us. It’s why I love Paul so much.”
I sip my wine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then I take a gulp because I’m going to need it to get through this conversation.
“Okay, look.” Gina pauses the movie we were watching, sits up, and puts pillows behind her back to get comfortable. “Paul’s kinda boring. I know this.”
My eyes go wide, but she rolls her eyes at me.
“I know you and Mom think so too, so don’t even give me that.” She bumps me with her shoulder. “But he’s also very kind and sweet to me. He never forgets an anniversary or plan we make. He notices when I wear something new. And he always makes me feel like the best version of myself.” Tears start to form in her eyes as she speaks, and she grabs a tissue from a box next to our melting ice cream on her bedside table. “That’s what love should feel like, Cade. Love you deserve again. And I can see Brian being that man for you.”
I blink a few times, wondering where all of this is coming from. But, instead of asking, I put my arm around my sister and squeeze her to me.
“I don’t mean to be all sappy,” she says, “but I hurt when you hurt. And you were really, really hurt from your divorce. Then you threw yourself into all of these things like they were going to make you happy.” She sniffles and turns her head to look at me. “Do they make you happy? Does working long hours and running ten miles a day make you happy?”
“I enjoy those things,” I admit, nodding slowly.
“That wasn’t my question, Cade.” She pulls away from me and pins me with her gaze. “Do they make you happier than when you’re with Brian? At the end of the day, are you glad you worked the day away and ran circles around the neighborhood? Or would you have rather spent that time with him?”
I take a deep breath, trying to rationalize my wine-garbled thoughts my brain before I say them and can’t take them back. “Those aren’t my only choices, and that’s why I need to do them. I can’t get lost inside a relationship again. That definitely does not make me happy.”
“And you still haven’t answered me.” She wipes her eyes and sets her tissue on the comforter. “I get that you can do all of those things, but which one sets your soul on fire? You can still do them all, but be honest with yourself. What excites you the most? Selling another house, running sprints until you puke, or staying the night at Brian’s house?”
“How do you know I’ve stayed the night at his house?” I ask, wanting to tear my hair out every time she calls him that. But I don’t do that. I put my wine on the bedside table next to me so I don’t spill it instead.
She gives me a look that says you can’t be serious—of course I know.
“Okay!” I huff out, slapping the bed for emphasis. “Of course I’d rather spend time with him!”
A grin spreads over her lips. “Then make sure you do that too. He’s not boring, but he seems sweet. And he watches This Is Us like a normal person, so he fits right into the family. So see where it goes.” She bumps me again with her shoulder and drinks from her wine glass. Then she sets it on the table next to her.
“You’ll be happy to know,” I start, picking lint I can’t actually see off the blanket on her bed, “that that’s what we’re doing.”
My sister squeals. “Seeeee? I knew it! Love.” Her sigh is happy and loud.
I put my hands out in front of me. “Eh. Let’s not push it too far.” Then I drop my arms to the bed and slouch. “Let’s get through the wedding first, okay?”
“My wedding or yours?” She rapidly raises and lowers her eyebrows like she’s being clever.
“Oh please.” I lean over her and grab for the ice cream container. “I’d have to know his name to get married to him.”
Gina jerks her head back. “What does that even mean? You know his name. Duh.”
I freeze, my hand around the cold container. Oops. Did I just say that? Blame it on the wine. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about. When I’m able to move again, I get back into my spot, shove a large spoonful of mint chocolate chip into my mouth, and shrug.
“Cade.” She pokes me in the shoulder with a finger. “I have a feeling you meant that. What the hell is going on?”
“It’s no big deal,” I tell her around the mouthful of ice cream. “I just…lied to Mom. That’s all.” Then I shrug again.
“About what?” she squawks, facing her whole body toward me. “His name isn’t Brian? Is he an actor posing as your boyfriend? Why would you do that, Cadence?”
Uh oh. Full name. And jumping to—mostly incorrect—conclusions. At this point, I have to set the record straight. Damn the wine.
“I didn’t do that!” I say, raising my voice. Then I close my eyes and let the truth fall from my lips. “I told Mom that there was a guy named Brian coming to the wedding with me. But there was no guy. Then, when the man you know as Brian said yes to being Brian to you, we just kept going with it. I needed the favor to keep you and Mom off my back about working too much and not dating.”
When I open my eyes and peek at my sister, her jaw is practically on the floor. For nearly a full minute, she stares at me like that. Not speaking, not moving. Just in utter shock. Then her brow furrows and she closes her mouth.
“What did he get in return for doing you a favor?” she asks, seeming genuinely curious.
My face starts to burn as I turn a nice shade of tomato.
“No!” she gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “You slept with him so you’d have a date to my wedding?”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” I try to say, but she’s already answering me before I can keep explaining.
“Then what was it like?” Her eyebrows shoot to the top of her forehead. “Because it seems like you owed him for other favors, like when he came to dinner at Mom’s too.”
I put a hand over her mouth so I can tell her what it was like. “I’m trying to tell you.” I take my hand away when she seems like she’ll be quiet now. “We both wanted to sleep together, Gina. And it turns out that he really owed me the favor anyway, but that’s a long story. It’s just something to do with his sick grandfather.”
She licks her lips and tilts her head. “So there really is a sick grandpa? He mentioned him at dinner.”
I nod. “Yeah. There is. Everything he told you is the truth. Just not his name.” I exhale a deep breath. “And we really are trying to date now.”
Pursing her lips, she nods like she’s pacified. “This seems ridiculous, but I’m glad it somehow worked out.”
“Yeah.” I smile—a genuine smile. “Me t—”
My phone buzzes at the end of the bed, cutting me off. I crawl down to pick it up, happy for a break in this intense conversation. And I’m even happier when I see “Brian” flash on my screen.
My sister peeks over at my phone. “You even have him in your phone as Brian? Why haven’t you corrected us with his real name?”
I set my phone down on the bed and try to figure out how to answer her without convoluting this even more. “I didn’t even want to tell you until after the wedding. And that was only decided the other day. We were both so adamant on having no strings to this. That this was just trading favors.”
“Well, I know now,” she reasons, “so you can tell me. I won’t tell Mom. You can tell her your messed-up story yourself.” Then she laughs—likely at the absurdity of this whole thing.
But I’m not laughing. Because my answer as to why I can’t tell her makes it even more absurd.
“What is it now?” she whines. “This gets worse?”
“I…don’t know his name yet,” I admit, staring at my phone.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Gina throws her arms into the air and lets them flop against the bed. “This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, well, try living it,” I tell her as I pull his text message up.
Brian: Hey. I hope you’re enjoying time with your sister. Joyce wants to meet with me tomorrow morning. I don’t know what for, but I said yes. Thought you should know. I’ll see you at 3:30. Miss you.
I must look confused, because my sister says, “What? What is it?”
I have no idea how to answer that, so I hand her the phone.
“Who’s Joyce and why is he meeting with her?” She hands my phone back to me.
“Well, Joyce is his ex, and good question.” I raise an eyebrow at her.
She looks like she’s just eaten something sour. “Ew. Why would he want to meet with his ex?”
I shrug. The buzz of the wine drains rapidly from my veins, and I’m left feeling heavy and questioning. Should I ask him if he wants me there? Or would he have told me that he wants me there in his text? We agreed to have our own lives and heal together. But he still feels the need to go to her when she calls? Is that living his own life? Or something I should be worried about?
Fuck. I don’t know how to do this. I won’t get cheated on again, but I can’t tell him what to do. And my sister—my happily committed sister with no experience with heartbreak—isn’t the right person to ask for advice.
She asks me though. “What are you going to do?”
And, even though I need an answer, I just don’t have one.