Chapter Seven

 

By the time Thursday night of the following week rolled around, they’d settled into a nice routine. Gunnar would help her prepare dinner. They’d enjoy a glass of wine on the patio, maybe help their daughters with homework, and watch some TV.

They’d sit next to each other on the couch. His thigh or arm would brush hers from time to time, but he hadn’t tried to kiss her again and she was getting antsy wondering when or if it would happen.

She knew he was trying to respect her boundaries, but the sexual tension was so thick she could feel it every time he walked into the room.

“Hey, Mom,” Ramsey said, running downstairs with her cell phone clutched in her hand. “Can me and Keegan spend the night at Jordan’s house tomorrow night?”

Jordan had a sister Keegan’s age and she’d become one of Ramsey’s closest friends. “Um, are their parents going to be there?”

Ramsey rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“No boys or alcohol, right?” Gianna asked, reaching for a handful of pretzels from the bowl Gunnar held.

“No, Mom,” she said, sounding annoyed. “So, can we go?”

“Fine, but you know I will be texting Jordan’s mom to make sure everything you just told me is true, right?”

“Whatever.”

Gianna watched her run back up the stairs as she muttered, “Teenagers.”

Gunnar laughed. “I love watching the way you handle them. Just so you know, I’m taking notes.”

Gunnar had always been the fun one while she’d been the disciplinarian. “You can’t become the bad cop,” she said, smiling at him. “There can only be one of those. We have to complement each other, after all.”

“I think we do complement each other.”

Damn. He was looking at her like he wanted to devour her again and she was thirty seconds away from overturning that bowl and hopping on his lap. “You do, huh?”

“In. Every. Way.”

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixed on her heaving chest. She was braless, with an oversized sweatshirt that slipped off one shoulder.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered. “It could be dangerous.”

“I want to kiss you.”

She smiled. “I want you to kiss me. But we can’t. The girls are upstairs. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea about us.”

He sighed. “We’ll have the whole house to ourselves tomorrow night though.”

“Indeed we will.” It wasn’t exactly an invitation, but it might as well have been. Needing to change the subject, she said, “That song you were working on when I came in sounded amazing. Have you been getting a lot of work done since you’ve been here?”

“It’s crazy,” he said, reaching for the remote to lower the volume. “I can’t believe how easy the writing’s been. It’s like I flipped a switch and I’m back in the zone.”

“That must feel good.”

“It does.” He paused, looking hesitant. “Still, I’m not sure I want to tour to promote a new album anytime soon.”

“How would your label feel about that?” she asked, knowing the answer even before she posed the question.

“They wouldn’t like it, but screw ’em. I’ve paid my dues. It’s time I started calling some of my own shots. And if they won’t let me, I could always start my own label.”

“Your own label?” she echoed, feeling that familiar knot of tension in her stomach. That sounded like a lot of work, which meant he wasn’t tired of the grind as she’d originally hoped. He was just looking for a new challenge.

“It wouldn’t be the worst idea, would it?” Before she could respond, he said, “You know, these new songs I’ve been writing are different from anything I’ve ever written before. More ballads. Love songs, I guess.”

“Huh.” Love songs from a man who’d claimed not too long ago that he didn’t know the meaning of the word.

“Yeah, and they have a different sound. It’s like I’m coming from a different place writing this music, if that makes sense.”

“It does.” She could see the change in him. It was no surprise that would be reflected in his music. “But how do you think your band will feel about that?” They usually collaborated on songs. Gianna didn’t think Gunnar had ever written an entire album on his own before.

“I’m not sure. There are a lot of things I’ve been considering lately that may not sit too well with them.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you know I love all kinds of music. Classic rock, country, blues—”

“Yeah, so?”

“This new stuff I’m writing, it feels more new country to me.”

“A lot of artists are crossing over,” she said, staring at the TV screen, though she’d long ago lost interest in her favorite drama. She had enough drama in her own life without getting wrapped up in someone else’s. “I’m sure you could too, if you really wanted to.”

Gunnar’s music had always been influenced by artists like Bob Seger, Bruce Springsteen, and John Mellencamp, his musical heroes growing up. He had a unique sound that appealed to both a younger and older generation, so she was confident his fans would jump on board no matter his direction.

“I think I might want to,” he said slowly. “It just seems to reflect where I am in my life right now.” He grabbed his iPod from the table. “I’ve been listening to country almost exclusively since I got here. In the shower, on my runs, when I’m driving, and there’s something about that music that gets me right here.” He thumped his fist against his chest, over his heart.

“Then you should talk to your band and your label about it.”

“I’ve had a hell of a good run with them,” he said quietly. “My band, they’ve been like my brothers.”

“I know.” They’d been the ones to drive him home when he was too drunk to walk or bust someone’s cell phone when they tried to take a video of Gunnar behaving badly so they could post it on social media.

“And my record label’s been good to me. I can’t complain about that. But they’re not big on taking gambles, especially the way the business has changed the past ten years. And I can’t say I blame them. It’s all about the bottom line, right?”

“I guess.”

He linked his hand through hers, bringing her hand to his lips. “Except it’s not about that for me anymore.”

“It’s not?” she asked, trying to ignore the way her breath hitched when his mouth grazed her skin.

“No. Music still feeds my soul. It’s hard to imagine not doing it. Especially now that I’m finally back in the zone, loving it again.”

“I can understand that,” she said, watching him turn her wrist over. His eyes never left hers as his mouth found her pulse.

His tongue flitted out, making her gasp. “It all feels real to me now.”

“What does?” She closed her eyes as his lips trailed up her arm.

“Everything. You. Me. My music. Our family. It finally feels like I’m building something real here. I’ve always felt like my life was built on a shaky foundation that could crumble any second, but this right here, what we’ve got, it feels solid to me.” He shifted closer, burying his face between her shoulder and neck as he tasted the sensitive skin. “How does it feel to you?”

“Incredible,” she whispered breathlessly. It was happening. She was falling for him again and she didn’t know how to stop it… or how to protect herself, and that scared her.

He grabbed her head, deepening the kiss until he had to absorb her needy whimpers with his mouth.

“Uh, sorry, guys.”

They broke apart guiltily when Keegan giggled. She’d obviously crept downstairs hoping to find them in a compromising position.

They weren’t little girls anymore and Gianna was certain they could see their parents getting closer. They had to wonder what it meant for their future and whether they could return to their old life back home if their parents reconciled.

“What’s up, short stack?” Gunnar asked, smiling while Gianna turned her head to hide her rosy cheeks.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Don’t embarrass your mom,” he warned. “What do you need?”

“I could use a little help with my world history homework.”

“You got it,” Gianna said, jumping up.

She could use a little breather. Besides, she wanted to be the one to answer her daughter’s questions about what was going on between her and Gunnar.

“You sure?” Gunnar asked, grabbing her hand. “I don’t mind helping her with that. I loved history.”

“No, I got it,” Gianna assured him, withdrawing her hand from his.

She waited until they were upstairs with the door closed before Gianna asked, “Okay, do you really need help with your homework or did you just want to grill me about your dad?”

Keegan laughed as she jumped on the bed, tucking her legs under her. “What do you think, Mom? History’s my best subject.”

Gianna pulled the desk chair closer to the bed and sat on it. “You know I’ve always tried to keep the lines of communication open with you guys. I want you to feel free to talk to me about anything, but the truth is, I don’t know what’s going on with your dad. We’re… figuring some things out, I guess.”

“I thought you were done with him. Isn’t that what you told us when you left him?”

“I was done with him,” she said, looking at the photo of Gunnar their daughter kept on her nightstand. He stood between the two girls, smiling like being with them was all he’d ever need. If only that were true. “I was done with the selfish, driven, ego-maniac he was when we split.” While she tried not to speak badly about Gunnar to their kids, it was no secret to them their dad was no saint. “But I’m not sure he’s that guy anymore.”

“You mean he’s more like the guy he was when you fell in love with him?” she asked, smiling.

Gianna laughed. “Are you kidding? He was crazy ambitious back then. He was on the rise, for sure, but he was still an opening act. He knew it could all still be taken away from him.”

“But it can’t now, can it?” she asked. “Be taken away from him?”

“No.” He’d earned more money than he could ever spend. He’d sold more albums than most. Had platinum albums lining an entire room. Enough memories to satisfy ten lifetimes. No one could ever take any of that from him. “But he’s thinking about moving in a different direction now, musically. That would mean he’d be starting all over again, trying to build a new fan base in a new genre. It would be a lot of work.”

“And you were hoping he was done working hard?”

“I had no expectations when he came here.” She picked up the photo, looking closer. It had been taken a few years ago, when she’d still had hope they would get their happy ending. “I thought he’d stay for a couple of days, catch up with you and your sister, and head back home.”

“But he hasn’t mentioned anything about going back home, has he?”

“No.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’m confused.”

“Understandable, given what he’s put you through.”

“Your dad hasn’t put me through anything, honey,” Gianna corrected. “I stayed with him because I wanted to, because I loved him. I always had the choice to leave.”

“Why did you finally leave?” she asked. “Was it the whole marriage thing or was there more to it?”

Her daughters had always been like her best friends and Gianna knew she told them way more than she should about what she was thinking and feeling, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to be their confidantes and knew it had to be a two-way street if she expected them to trust her with their secrets.

“That was part of it,” Gianna said, setting the photo down with a sigh as she leaned back, propping her elbow on the desk. “But the biggest thing was our differences. I’d always felt we were very different, but I thought when he got a little older he’d finally be ready to slow down.” She shrugged. “That didn’t happen when he turned forty, and I started to wonder if it would ever happen.”

“Does he know how you feel?”

“We’ve been talking,” she said, though she wouldn’t share every little detail with her teenage daughter. “He knows why I left and I know why he let me. Now we’re just trying to figure out where we go from here.”

“Any idea yet?” Keegan asked, looking hopeful.

“No. I think right now we’re just taking it one day at a time.”

“Then there’s still a chance you guys could get back together?” she asked, her smile spreading, revealing the straight white teeth a mouthful of braces had helped to perfect.

“Anything could happen,” she said, standing to kiss her daughter on the forehead. “But don’t get your hopes up, kiddo. That also means there’s a chance things won’t work out. I still don’t know what your dad’s plans are. Maybe he’ll wake up tomorrow and decide he needs to go back to L.A. to finish up this album he’s been working on.”

“That would totally suck,” Keegan said, scowling. “It’s been nice having him around for a change.”

Gianna knew she wasn’t the only one becoming dependent on Gunnar. If he left now, it would leave a huge hole in their home and their hearts. And she knew the risk of that hole getting bigger grew with every passing day. But what choice did she have? She could ask him to leave, but that felt even scarier than taking a risk.

 

***

 

“Got the homework thing figured out?” Gunnar asked when Gianna returned. He set his cell on the table when he got a glimpse of the pinched expression on her face. Social media could wait. His girl couldn’t.

“She wasn’t really having trouble with her homework,” Gianna said, sitting next to him, though a little further away than she had been before. “She wanted to talk to me about… us.”

“Us?” he echoed, fearful of where she was going with this. If she started to question whether his staying with them was a good idea, she could be planning to hand him his walking papers. And he wasn’t ready for that. Hell, he wasn’t sure he ever would be ready to leave Gianna and their kids again. For any length of time.

“Yeah.” She reached for his hand, holding it loosely in hers. “It’s only natural they’d wonder what’s going on, especially with that kiss she walked in on.”

“So?” he asked, feeling his heart pounding. “What did you tell her?”

“The truth. That I’m not sure where things are going. We’re just taking it one day at a time and figuring things out as we go.”

“Okaaayyyy….” He could tell she wasn’t happy with that prospect. “So, what did she say to that?”

“She seemed fine with it, but I’m not sure I am.”

He could almost hear the other shoe dropping. He should have known it was too good to be true. His dream of getting his family back wasn’t going to come true after all. “If you want me to leave—”

“I didn’t say that.” Their eyes locked and in hers he could read all the things she wasn’t willing to say. She was scared. Hopeful. Excited. Angry. Disappointed. “Just say it, Gi. I know you well enough to read your mind, but I don’t want to do that. I want to hear you say the words. Let me have it, if you need to. I’m okay with that.”

“I just don’t understand why it took you so long for you to figure out that you wanted me in your life. If you missed me, why let us move here without telling me how you felt? Why now, when I finally feel like I’m getting my life together would you show up on my doorstep and tell me you’ve changed, that you finally realize what’s important?”

All good questions she had every right to ask, but that didn’t make them easy to answer. “It took me a long time after you left to find the courage to start doing some soul searching,” he admitted, remembering how tough those early days had been, all alone in that big, empty house, listening to the deafening silence and echo of his own footsteps. “I wanted to blame you. I told myself you’d known what I did for a living when we met, that it wasn’t fair of you to check out on me the way you did because you suddenly expected me to be someone else.”

He knew it wouldn’t be easy for her to hear the truth, but if they wanted to forge a better relationship than the one they’d had, they had to learn to communicate in a new way. “But after a while, when I got tired of blaming you and feeling sorry for myself, I started to look at myself and my life in a new way. I heard the things I said to you, the way I treated you—”

“It’s not that you mistreated me,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand. “I never would have stayed with you as long as I did if that had been the case. It’s just that I felt I’d always loved you more than you loved me, and I wasn’t okay with that, not anymore.” She leaned her head against the cushion. “I wanted more. I wanted a man who loved me as much as I loved him, who was certain he wanted to be with me forever.”

“And you deserve that.” He hated knowing that he’d caused her to question herself in any way. If he’d been smart, he would have spent every precious day they had together reminding her how special she was. But he hadn’t and now he had to pay the price for his negligence.

“It’s not that I didn’t think you loved me. I knew you did in your own way, even if you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words.”

“You were the only person who ever told me you loved me.” It wasn’t an easy thing to admit. Even knowing that wasn’t his fault, he still felt a modicum of shame uttering the words. “Until the girls got old enough to talk. Then I heard it all the time and I loved it.” He smiled. “I became addicted to those three little words.”

“I know. I remember the way you’d light up every time you heard them. Except when I said them.” Her eyes darkened. “Then you were always more guarded, like I’d put you on the spot.”

His gut clenched, both at the pain he’d caused her and the opportunity he’d missed. “I guess that’s the way I felt. I wanted to say them. I felt them, but I feared what they represented. I thought if I said them, it would change things between us somehow. I thought you’d suddenly expect me to be something I’d never been. A dutiful husband and father and…” He shook his head at his own stupidity. “I don’t know what the hell I thought you’d expect. I just didn’t want to let you down. And that’s exactly what I ended up doing anyways, letting you down.”

“I wasn’t a victim in any of this,” she said fiercely. “I don’t want you to feel guilty or sorry for me. I stayed because I wanted to stay. I could’ve left at any time.”

“So, why didn’t you?” He’d often wondered how she’d managed to put up with him as long as she had.

“I guess I was used to emotionally unavailable men,” she said softly. “You know my father. He’s a devoted intellectual. He’d read the newspaper from cover to cover every night and watch documentaries and the evening news instead of interacting with his family. He felt, as a teacher, it was his job to remain well-informed and pass that knowledge on to his students. It was the most important thing in the world to him, being the most knowledgeable man in any room.”

He didn’t think her father was a bad guy, but he certainly understood why his daughter would have found him to be stingy with praise and affection. He didn’t exude warmth with anyone, not even his granddaughters or wife, from what Gunnar had observed.

“So, my relationship with you was different, but I was used to vying for a man’s attention, so it wasn’t all that different, I guess.” She licked her lips. “It wasn’t until I started to dig a little deeper and ask myself the tough questions that I had to admit I wasn’t okay with the way things were between us.”

She’d tried talking to him about the issues in their relationship, but he’d turned a deaf ear out of fear. If they acknowledged their problems and brought them to the surface, they’d either have to talk about them and find a solution or admit there was no solution and that scared him more than anything.

“I didn’t see how anything could change. You were you. The same man I’d been with all along, but suddenly, I changed and what we had wasn’t enough for me anymore. It wasn’t fair to ask you to change because I wasn’t even sure you could.”

“So you left.”

“So I left.” She sighed. “Believe me, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t want to tear our family apart, but I had to think of Ramsey and Keegan. They’re not babies anymore and they were learning by example. They were seeing the way we interacted and they’d come to believe that was normal.”

But even he knew it wasn’t. Couples who were truly in love and committed to each other weren’t afraid to express it, whether it be with words or a ceremony and ring.

“I want them to eventually have boyfriends who love and appreciate them and aren’t afraid to express that. I don’t want them to go chasing after some boy, trying to get him to love them.”

He didn’t want that for his daughters either. He wanted them to find the kind of man he’d never had the strength to be.

“I know this is hard to hear—”

“It is,” he said, brushing his lips across hers. “But I need to hear it, Gi. We need to talk about this stuff. I wasn’t able to hear you before, but I am now. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere until you tell me I need to.”

“I’m afraid to believe that,” she whispered. “That you aren’t going anywhere. This feels like a vacation from real life. I keep expecting you to wake up, get a call, and tell me you have to go, that you have to get back to the life you left behind.”

“I left that life behind for a reason,” he said, praying she believed him. “Because it wasn’t working for me anymore. Not without you.”

“I’m not sure that life could ever work for me again though. I don’t think I want to go back there, Gunnar.”

He knew it wasn’t easy for her to admit and he appreciated her honesty. “I understand that.” Given the sweet and simple life she had now, he couldn’t blame her. “And if we can work through all of our issues and decide we want to be together, for the long haul, we’ll figure something out.” He didn’t want to give up his music, but he couldn’t give up his family.

Not again.