Chapter 16

Derek

 

I was relieved that Rhys had suggested a truce. I’d been thinking along the same lines, but I’d been second-guessing myself all morning. That seemed stupid now—there was a lot I could say about Rhys, but I should have known he’d prioritize Vanessa as much as I did today. The last few days had left me questioning whether we really could put our differences aside in the name of functioning together, but of course we could do that today of all days. We were adults. Today was about our daughter. We could do this.

As the ceremony started, Rhys and I stood at the beginning of the aisle with Sara. We all exchanged nervous glances, followed by reassuring nods and nervous but still somehow reassuring smiles. The air was taut between the three of us. A lot of things had been said that shouldn’t have, and a lot of things still needed to be said, but there wasn’t much we could do now. Sara, Rhys, and I could sort last night out later. Today…Vanessa.

When it was our turn to start down the aisle, I offered Sara my elbow. She took it, and with her other hand, took Rhys’s, and the three of us walked down the aisle to our seats in the front row. I was tempted for a second to have Sara sit between us as well, but that would be too conspicuous. So, I sat with Sara and Rhys on either side of me while Corbin’s family took their seats on the opposite front row.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen made their entrances as well. The best man was Corbin’s older brother, who wore his Navy dress blues, and the second groomsman was their youngest brother, who was Army like Corbin. The rest were in tuxes.

Corbin joined his groomsmen, also in his dress uniform. He took a deep breath and stared up the aisle with a huge smile on his face.

Then the music changed, and everyone stood and turned.

Being her father, I was probably biased as hell, but as Vanessa started walking down the aisle, she looked amazing. Two seconds in, I was getting choked up because holy shit, my daughter was coming down the aisle in a white dress with a rose bouquet, gaze fixed on her soon-to-be husband and a big, bright smile on her face. She was getting married. My little girl was getting married.

Standing to my left, Sara made a subtle gesture of wiping her eyes. To my right, Rhys did the same. Someone sniffed. Well, at least it wasn’t just me.

As she passed our row, Vanessa turned to the three of us. Her smile faltered for just a second but then brightened again. There were wheels turning that she’d discovered at the worst possible moment, but right now, we were focused on her, and I think she saw that in all our eyes. Whatever else was going on in the world, nothing could change how happy the three of us were to see her marrying Corbin today.

We all sat down, and sitting between my two exes, I just beamed up at our daughter. I was so proud of the young woman we’d raised. She was smart, kind, strong, ambitious. I’d admittedly questioned her taste in guys a few times, but I liked Corbin. Though they were young, they both had their heads screwed on straight. Their future together would be a good one, I was sure of it.

And to think, her mother and I had worried ourselves sick before Vanessa was born that we wouldn’t know what we were doing. To be fair, we hadn’t, but we’d done the best we could, and our daughter had turned out just fine.

It wasn’t only me and Sara, either. Rhys had come into the picture late in the game, but it would be disingenuous to say he hadn’t had a profound impact on Vanessa. In fact, he’d already started having one before we’d started dating. As her softball coach, he’d given her just the right amount of encouragement and criticism, balancing the need for motivation with the information to improve her technique. When she was in high school and didn’t make varsity softball, he was the one who’d stayed outside in the backyard, tirelessly helping her with her form. Every morning, rain or shine, they’d jog together. By the time tryouts rolled around the following year, she’d been a shoo-in for varsity and had led the team to back-to-back state championships.

That was to say nothing of how much he helped with her schoolwork. Academia had never been my strong point, but Rhys was a teacher, and when she’d struggled with a subject, he’d been the one hunched over textbooks at the kitchen table, walking her through the material until she understood it. Her mother or I could have helped her through it, but not like he did. He was one of those teachers who could explain things clearly without talking down. Vanessa had struggled with her schoolwork in elementary school, and she was touchy about anyone who made her feel stupid, and Rhys never did. Not once. Even now, while she was in college, they Skyped or instant messaged when she needed help studying.

My throat tightened around my breath. There was no denying that Vanessa wouldn’t be the woman she was today without the man sitting beside me. As I watched her saying her vows to my new son-in-law, I had to wonder if that alone should give Rhys some amnesty. Yeah, he’d fucked up. But look at the woman he, Sara, and I had raised. Look at the life we’d made together—a home, careers, friends.

For the past few months, thinking about that made me want to lash out at him and demand to know why he was willing to throw it all away over one night of sex with a stranger.

Today I couldn’t help but ask myself the same thing.

And for the life of me, I couldn’t come up with an answer.

 

***

 

The reception kicked off with dinner, and I sat between Sara and Rhys. While it wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, we all stuck to our truce. As long as we kept conversation light, things stayed peaceful, and nobody made any attempts to steer it away from those light topics. No snide comments. No backhanded remarks. No subtle digs. Man, if Rhys and I could keep this up, maybe I wouldn’t need a rental car or a plane ticket for the return trip after all.

As with all receptions, there were toasts. Rhys and I each read ours after the best man, the maid of honor, and Corbin’s father, and we even managed to laugh a few times during the other’s brief speech. I nearly choked on my drink at Beth’s disapproving scowl when Rhys made a comment about Vanessa probably being too mouthy to hang out with the Army wives, and he snorted audibly when I made our daughter groan with embarrassment over a story about her junior prom. If I squinted hard enough, I could almost believe that everything was fine between us. Almost.

After dinner, the deejay called Vanessa and Corbin out onto the floor for their first dance.

My heart fluttered from the joy of seeing my daughter so happy with her new husband, and also from the relief that everything from last night hadn’t been enough to kill that joy. Her wedding would probably be a bittersweet memory, something I would regret until the end of time, but there’d been a lot more tears of happiness than anything else today. I could live with that.

Their song had barely begun to fade when the deejay said, “Now it’s time for Vanessa’s father-daughter dance. Derek? Where are you, Derek?”

“Oh.” I put my drink down. “I guess I should get up there.”

“Yes you should.” Sara nudged my shoulder. “Go!”

I laughed and joined the couple in the middle of the dancefloor, shook hands with Corbin, and then he stepped aside while I took Vanessa’s hand.

And…wow. Jesus. My daughter. A bride. All grown up and married. Didn’t she just start kindergarten last week?

“You’re not going to get all choked up again, are you?” Her voice was a little thick.

“What do you—” I cleared my throat. “What do you mean, again?”

“Oh come on.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t act like you didn’t.”

“Okay. Maybe a bit.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What can I say? It’s kind of mind-blowing watching your kid get married.” I smirked. “You’ll understand once you’re watching your own kids getting—”

“Oh shut up.” She laughed, and so did I.

“Seriously, though,” I said. “I’m so happy for both of you.”

Vanessa smiled up at me. “Thanks. His family’s a little nuts, but I like him.”

I chuckled. “Well, I would hope you like him. You’re kind of stuck with him now.”

She laughed too, but then our humor faded as what I’d said really sank in.

“You know what I mean,” I said softly.

“I know. I know. And I…” She shook her head. “I just wish you guys had told me. But as long as you and Rhys are happy…”

Happy? I’m the farthest I’ve ever been from happy.

“Don’t worry about us. He’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.” When? “It’s not the end of the world.”

She sighed.

“We’ll all be all right,” I said. “He’s still your dad even if we’re not together. I just wish we could have done this without putting a damper on your wedding. We thought—”

“Dad. Don’t. Yes, it’s a tough thing to get my head around, and yes, I wish you guys had told me sooner, but we can’t change it. As long as you and Rhys are going to be okay after you split up, I’ll live with it.”

I put on my best Dad’s okay even though he’s dying inside smile. “We will be.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

We continued our dance until the song started to fade, and then the deejay came over the microphone again. “Rhys? Where’s Rhys? Your daughter would like a dance with you too.”

Vanessa and I stopped, and I gave her a tight hug before I let her go. Rhys and I met each other’s eyes as he came onto the dancefloor, and… Damn. We really were getting good at hiding this, weren’t we? Nothing in his expression—or hopefully mine—betrayed everything beneath the surface.

As I stepped back, he took my place. We exchanged smiles, somehow hiding all traces of awkwardness, and then his attention was on Vanessa.

I slipped back into the crowd and watched them.

As they danced, sharing a conversation only they could hear, all the emotions I’d had during the wedding came crashing back in. All the memories of what a fixture Rhys had been in Vanessa’s world. Of how we’d been a small, perfect, complete family.

I’d been itching for the moment when he and I could finally separate, but as I watched him sharing a dance with our newly married daughter, the thought of him exiting stage left after this suddenly took my breath away.

For months I’d told myself that I’d done the right thing by breaking things off. What kind of self-respect did I have if I took back someone who’d cheated?

After that, we’d forced ourselves to stay together (sort of) in the name of economics and, more recently, flying below Vanessa’s radar, and now I wondered if that forced proximity had been a blessing in disguise. Instead of separating and moving on, we’d had no choice but to stay close enough that I could see the effect this had on him every single day. I couldn’t delude myself into thinking he felt nothing about what he’d done. That he was cold and spiteful.

Because the fact was, Rhys had been nothing but contrite. He’d never denied what he did. He’d come clean about it almost immediately, and he’d worn his conscience on his sleeve ever since. In all the months that had gone by, he’d never once tried to downplay it as just one night, or tell me that at least he hadn’t done more than have sex with someone. From the get go, he’d been devastated and repentant, and whenever it had come up—especially when I’d angrily thrown it in his face—another crack would show. As if he were crumbling under the weight of his own guilt, and he was one verbal slap in the face away from collapsing.

Maybe that was what he’d done last night. Sara had confronted him, and he’d broken. The weight of his own guilt had toppled him, and did I have any right to be surprised? It wasn’t like I could pretend he hadn’t been hurting all this time, and it wasn’t just when people were looking, either. There’d been dozens of times where I’d come into a room and found him with tears in his eyes or that distinct blotchiness of someone who’d been crying recently. He’d usually try to hide it, too. Maybe he was embarrassed that he was so emotional. Maybe he was afraid I’d notice and accuse him of trying to make me feel guilty.

Maybe…maybe he was right.

I cringed, swallowing hard as I watched him and our daughter dancing. I’d wanted him to feel that bad about what he’d done. I’d wanted him to wallow in his own mistake and not go a day without knowing how badly he’d fucked up.

But now…

“I mean, don’t you still love each other?”

Getting a lump in my throat at the sight of Rhys wasn’t an unusual thing these days, but this felt different. It wasn’t that feeling like I wanted to break down because he’d hurt me and I couldn’t stand the sight of him.

It was because…

Oh, fuck me.

Sitting quietly a lifetime ago on the couch with him sleeping on my shoulder, I’d realized I was in love with him.

Standing here now at the edge of a dancefloor while he danced with the daughter he’d treated like his own child from day one, I realized I was still in love with him.

I had to swallow hard to get that lump to move. As I gazed at him and Vanessa, I couldn’t deny the truth—I still loved him. Not in that “I’ll always love him even if we’re not together anymore” kind of way. No, I loved him. Deeply. Fiercely. As profoundly as I had the day we’d been the ones saying “I do.”

The song ended, and he and Vanessa shared a long hug. Then her new husband politely cut in, and Rhys watched them with a fond smile for a moment before he bowed out and walked off the dancefloor.

Our eyes met. Only for a second, but long enough for a million unreadable emotions to register in his expression and God knew how many to ping pong through my guilt-addled mind. He quickly dropped his gaze as his smile evaporated.

Christ. He’d been the picture of pride and joy while he’d danced with Vanessa. One look at me, and he once again had his conscience on his sleeve.

My mouth dry and my heart sick, I watched him walk away.

He’d fucked up. Once. I had no reason to believe it had happened before that night. I’d told myself for months that I could never trust him again, but now I wondered if, with as mercilessly as he’d been beating himself up over it, the opposite was true. If Rhys had become the last man on earth who’d cheat because his conscience couldn’t take it.

Or maybe that was all wishful thinking because, for the first time, I wanted to believe we could come back from this.

Oblivious to me watching him, and definitely oblivious to everything going on in my head, Rhys went to the bar for another drink. Once he had the glass in hand, though, he didn’t return to the table. Instead, he stepped outside through a door the staff had propped open to let some air into the stuffy room.

I didn’t follow. I wanted to—more than I had in a long time, I wanted to be where Rhys was—but I held back because this wasn’t the time or place to hash out our problems. I needed to think things over, too. Right?

My mind just kept circling back to the thought I’d had during the ceremony. That I’d hated Rhys for killing our marriage with that one night in a stranger’s bed, but now I had to wonder—was I, on some level, doing the same thing? No, I hadn’t been the one to break my vows and cheat, but I’d let that one night end everything we had.

Rhys had fucked up by going to bed with that guy.

Was I also fucking up by letting that one mistake end our marriage?

Cheating was a deal-breaker. There was no going back. It was a red line. Our fate had been sealed the moment he’d decided to sleep with someone else.

So why did I want to run after him and try to unfuck our marriage?

As I stared at the door Rhys had stepped out of, it was hard to conjure up the certainty I’d had the morning after he’d cheated. On the heels of that kind of betrayal, it had been easy to hate him and be done with him. After watching him dance with our daughter at her wedding, after thinking back to everything he’d been for her and for me for the last nine years, after realizing the lump in my throat was grief and not anger… Was I really sure about where things went from here? Or could I—and did I want to—course correct?

Someone stepped up beside me, and I almost expected it to be Rhys. To my surprise—kind of—I was disappointed it wasn’t.

“There you are.” Sara offered a tight, uneasy smile. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh.” I swallowed and managed a halfhearted laugh. “Well, you found me.”

The smile warmed a little, though she still seemed uncomfortable. “I, um, just wanted to tell you again that I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have confronted Rhys like that.”

I nodded but wasn’t sure what to say. Though I’d been angry with her last night, I’d steered most of that anger back where it belonged—to myself. “I never should have kept the divorce from Vanessa.”

“Maybe not, but last night wasn’t my place.” Sara took a deep breath. “I just… I saw how much you were hurting, and I was so angry at him, but…it wasn’t my place, and if I hadn’t done that, then we all could have saved Vanessa some heartache today. So, I know I told you this already, but I mean it—I’m sorry.”

“I know. And with all the stress of the wedding and everything, I shouldn’t have unloaded it all on you and—”

“No, you always know you can vent to me.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Apparently I just shouldn’t drink while stressed and in the same room as the person you’re venting about. I should have known that wouldn’t end well.”

I laughed softly, though I didn’t really feel it. We stood in silence for a moment, watching our daughter dancing with her new husband in the middle of a crowd of their friends and family. My mind kept going back to when Vanessa had been dancing with Rhys, and my heart kept sinking lower and lower. He still hadn’t come back in from outside. Maybe that was good. Maybe a little space was what we needed tonight. Or what I needed.

Because I’m a coward who can’t face my own feelings, never mind talk to him about them.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted to Sara, “Do you think cheating is a deal-breaker?”

She seemed to mull it over, then shrugged. “Depends on the situation, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if someone had an affair, yeah. Deal-breaker. I’m not going to forgive a man who gets emotionally invested in someone else.” She looked past me, as if watching Rhys through the windows. “A one-time fuck-up, though? I guess it would depend on how sorry he was.” Her eyes shifted back to me. “If I really believed that he believed he fucked up.”

“Like if he came and told you about it?”

“Oh God, yeah.” She said it without hesitation. “If he lied about it and tried to cover it up, he can eat shit and die. But if he came clean on his own? I might be able to forgive him.” She cocked her head. “Why? Are you, um, reconsidering?”

I pressed my lips together. Yeah, I was, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud.

“For what it’s worth,” Sara said softly, “if there’s one thing I took away from last night before everything blew up, it’s that Rhys absolutely regrets what he did. He’s not sorry he got caught. He’s sorry he did it.”

“He didn’t get caught,” I said quietly. “He confessed. I never would have known if he hadn’t said something.”

She was nodding as I spoke. “And I could tell last night that he really does regret it. I mean, I went in there guns blazing, ready to read him the riot act and then…” Her shoulders drooped. “Then I just wanted to give him a big hug because here I’d been thinking he was an asshole, and it turned out he was hurting so bad. Even if it was because of something he did, he was still hurting, you know?”

My throat tightened. “I think he still is.”

“I’d bet money he will be for a long time.”

Releasing a long breath, I let my shoulders sink.

“Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“Now?”

“Well, yeah.” She looked at me like it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever been asked. “Why not?”

“Because…” I made a sweeping gesture at the reception going on around us.

“But you’re both miserable. Maybe if you guys can talk some of this through, you can actually enjoy the rest of…” She mimicked my gesture.

Okay, she had a point. I shifted my weight. “Except I don’t want to leave the wedding and—”

“Go talk to him.” She nudged me toward the door Rhys had gone through. “Vanessa will understand.”

I hesitated, but finally nodded. “Okay. I will.”

She gave my arm a squeeze. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

And without another second thought, I went outside to find Rhys.