An (Almost) Perfect Love Story (Love Story Book Three) (22 page)

“Oh, no,” I moaned, closing my eyes. “You need to fix it. Seriously, call him back. Don’t let this turn into something bad, please.”

“Ash, did it ever occur to you that the thing I might need right now is to hang out with my best friend?”

“Really?”

“Really. If we can’t hang out and gorge on bad food and chick flicks when I’m having guy problems, what’s the point of being friends?”

I managed a real smile at that. “Good point.”

“Can we go now?”

“Yeah, let’s go. And, Ryan…thanks,” I said, hoping he understood how much I meant it. He held out a hand to me, pulling me up from the couch when I grabbed it.

“We stick together, babe. Now let’s go get some crap food and drown our sorrows.”

* * *

If I had thought getting caught in an affair would subdue my mother’s spirit, I was very wrong. While getting ready for work on Monday morning, I received a text from Jen, letting me know that she had heard from my mom late the night before and they had averted the appetizer crisis. I gaped at the phone. Mom had talked to Jen last
night
? She was still planning the wedding?

I got my answer as soon as I pulled up the email on my phone. There, in my inbox, was an email. It was from my mother.

Ashley,

I thought you would be more receptive to an email. I know you are very upset with me right now, understandably, and I didn’t want you to feel as if you needed to speak with me right away.

I went to the house to speak with your father yesterday evening. I told him about Harold. He was upset but amicable. We are entering into a legal separation. Your father wants to begin divorce proceedings immediately.

I will be moving into Harold’s home, so you do not need to worry about your father supporting me. You were right about that, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have let it go on for as long as I did, and I’ll be making arrangements to repay your dad for the cost of the hotel room.

Your father is eager to continue to finance the wedding however; I hope you will see that it means a lot to him to do so and not cause any difficulties on this point.

We have agreed that we will not share the news of our divorce until after the wedding. This is as much for you and your sisters as it is for our own benefit. We simply do not want any talk of our problems interfering with your day.

When you are feeling better, I hope you will contact me so we can go over the plans for the wedding. I understand that you may not want to talk yet, so for the time being, I will continue to work with Jennifer on your behalf. We will aim to provide you and Chris with a lovely wedding, as was always my intention.

I’m so very sorry you had to be caught in the middle of this. If I could change my past actions so as not to affect you, I would do so in an instant. There are many things I regret about my actions, sweetheart, but the biggest regret is in upsetting you.

I hope, in time, you will be able to forgive me. I love you.

Mom

I stared at the phone, too shocked to even process half of what she had said. They were getting a divorce. And Daddy had been the one to ask for it.

Without thinking, I scrolled through the contacts until I found my school. It was too early for the office to be open, so I left a message informing them I was very ill and would be off for the day. Then I sank down into the couch and reread the email, hoping it would make more sense.

Divorce proceedings…continue financing the wedding…work with Jennifer on your behalf.

“I don’t
believe
her,” I muttered. She seriously thought I was going to allow her to continue to plan the wedding? Had she been trying to guilt me into accepting with that bit about it being important to my father?

We have agreed that we will not share the news of our divorce until after the wedding…
So her plan, then, was to make my wedding some kind of farce? With the two of them pretending to be a happy couple?

It suddenly occurred to me that my father now
knew
. He knew about the affair, had found out last night. And had then been alone all that time. While I had been blithely talking about my problems with Ryan and drinking wine, my dad had been alone with the knowledge that he’d lost his wife for good.

“Damn it,” I muttered, pulling up his cell phone number and placing the call.

“Hello?”

“Daddy, it’s Ashley,” I said, and he burst into tears.

Twenty minutes later, fresh from a quick shower, I was pulling on a pair of jeans and an old T-shirt. I considered leaving a note for Emily, in case she got home from her trip before me, then realized it didn’t matter. She would just think I was at work anyhow.

Traffic heading into the city was terrible. It had been stupid to leave during rush hour, but I had promised my dad I would get there as soon as I could. If that meant sitting through the traffic, so be it.

I found him in the kitchen, drinking scotch.

“Daddy,” I cried. “It’s eight-thirty in the morning!”

He looked up at me, his face lined and grey. “Is it?” he asked, confused. His speech was slurred. “How strange. I guess I never went to bed.”

“Oh, no,” I muttered, coming over to sit next to him. His eyes were unfocused. “Have you been drinking all night?”

“She’s gone, you know,” he whispered, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. I had never seen anything sadder—it was like he was falling apart right there in front of me.

“Daddy, you need to eat something and then go to bed,” I said, standing up to search through the fridge for some food—anything to get away from the look on his face.

I found a bagel in the breadbox and toasted it for him, adding some butter. By the time I got back to the table, he was snoring.

“Great,” I muttered. I shook his shoulder gently. “Daddy? Daddy, come on, wake up.”

I finally managed to get him up and away from the table. I knew he would never make it to the bedroom, so I deposited him on the couch, pulling an old quilt over him. I sank into his recliner, staring at his snoring form, feeling more alone—and terrified—than I ever had in my life.

Chapter Twenty-two

He slept for most of the day. Eventually, I, too, dozed in the chair, coming to only when I heard the creak of footsteps on the stairs. I sat up straight, disoriented, and blinked around the room. The couch was empty.

“Daddy?”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, peeking his head in from the hall. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

He had showered and shaved and put on fresh clothes. I was so relieved, I could have cried. “You look better.”

“Why don’t you come in and have some coffee and we can chat, okay?”

I stood up and stretched, my body feeling achy from spending so much time sleeping in an upright position. When I joined my dad in the kitchen, he was already pouring out two mugs of fresh coffee. He handed one to me, and we both sat at the kitchen table as an awkward silence descended. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling, but didn’t want to set him off. I didn’t think I could bear to watch him fall apart again.

My father was the first to break the silence. “I owe you an apology, Ashley. You shouldn’t have had to see me like that last night.”

“Don’t be silly, Daddy,” I said, reaching out for his hand, but he held it up to silence me.

“I mean it, Ashley. That won’t be happening again. I’m not going to pretend that yesterday wasn’t really tough. I’ll give myself that one out, behaving like I did. But it won’t be happening again. No daughter should have to see her father like…like that.”

“Daddy, I’m your family. Of course I should be here to help you when you’re having a rough time.”

He shook his head. “No, Ashley. I’m your father. It’s not your job to pick up the pieces for me. I’m supposed to take care of
you
. I promise I won’t let that happen again. I’m going to start taking better care of myself so that you don’t have to worry like that. Deal?”

“I just want you to be okay,” I whispered.

“I will be, Ash.” His voice was stronger than I had heard it in a long time. “I’m going to be just fine.”

“Mom said…Mom said you were the one that asked for the divorce?”

He nodded. “I’ve loved your mother for most of my life. And I’d be willing to forgive a lot. But I can’t forgive this. I won’t sit here and wait while she’s off with another man.” He looked up at me. “I’m sorry, honey. I know you were hoping we’d work it out.”

“No, Dad, don’t be sorry. I’m proud of you. You deserve better than that.”

It was strange, looking at him now. He sounded so sure, so firm about this decision, so different from the man he’d been the last few months. In fact I wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen him quite so adamant. He had totally stood up for himself with my mom yesterday—I wondered if she had been surprised. Had she expected him to beg her to change her mind? To tell her that he’d wait while she figured things out?

“It’s kind of nice to know, in a way,” he said, his voice soft. “Have it settled one way or another. So I can move on.”

“I’m sorry she did this to you,” I whispered, suddenly overwhelmed with the sadness of it all. This home they had built together, empty and silent around us.

“I want you to try to stop worrying about it, Ashley,” he said firmly. “You have your whole life ahead of you. You’re getting married soon! Concentrate on that, honey. Don’t worry about your old man. I’m gonna be just fine.”

My scalp tingled unpleasantly at the mention of the wedding, but I pushed it aside. “You will be, Dad,” I told him. “I know you will.”

* * *

I had wanted to take another day from work and stay with him that night, but my father flat out refused. Instead he made arrangements to go to his bridge game at the Elks club, just like he used to do on Monday nights. “It’s time for me to get back into my old routine,” he said. “I’m done hiding away just because my wife isn’t with me.”

As I drove home, I could only pray that he’d actually follow through, that he’d take care of himself. That he really would be okay.

I wasn’t surprised to find Chris in the apartment when I got home—I’d seen his Explorer parked outside. His smile when I opened the door made my heart sink. He looked so happy to see me, but all I could feel was fear. Fear and confusion.

“I was starting to think I’d missed you,” he said, crossing the room to pull me into his arms. “I wondered if maybe you’d already left for the gym.”

“Oh, uh, no,” I said, pulling away so I could take off my coat. “No gym today. How was your trip? Is Em here?”

“Trip was great,” he said. “My parents say hi. Em already left to go see Elliot.”

I nodded and walked to the kitchen, suddenly desperate for some water. My mouth felt dry, my throat scratchy. I knew I should tell Chris what had happened, but the thought of him knowing scared me so badly my hands started to shake.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, following me. “Ashley? You look kind of upset.”

“I’m tired,” I said from the sink, my back to him. “I slept like crap last night.”

“Are you getting sick?” I closed my eyes at the sound of concern in his voice.

“No, I’m fine.”

Chris waited while I drank my water. When I finished, I plastered a smile on my face and turned to him. “So, tell me about Alpena.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “That can wait. I want to show you something. Come on.”

I followed him back to the living room where I noticed my laptop was set up. He sat down on the couch and gestured for me to join him. “Okay, so try to have an open mind,” he said, clearly excited about something. I nodded and he opened a web browser, entering an address. A second later, a picture of a small brick house filled the screen.

“What do you think?

I stared at the computer, completely at a loss. “What is that?”

“A house,” he said, laughing. “Maybe a house for us.”

I froze. I could actually feel the color drain from my face.

“Ashley? Babe, are you okay?”

“I’m…fine,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Um, where did you find this?”

“My dad and I got to talking this weekend, about the apartment search and all that. And he suggested we look into foreclosures instead. There are a lot on the market right now, and most of them need work, but I was really shocked by how affordable they are. We could totally make something like this work.”

I stared at the screen, feeling my heart beat faster and faster. The house was cute from the outside, though a little run-down looking. There was a huge oak tree in the front yard and a big porch with plenty of room for family and friends.

Chris wanted to buy a house.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered, standing up. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, setting the computer aside.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I lied. “I’m just…it’s too much right now, Chris. A house. That’s a really big deal.”

“Sure it is,” he said reasonably. “But we need a place to live, right? If our mortgage payment wouldn’t be much more than an apartment, why not own instead of rent?”

I had no argument for his logic. All I knew was that I felt like throwing up.

“Chris, can we talk about this another time?” I asked, rubbing my forehead. My skin felt cold to the touch.

Chris sighed. “Sure. Later.”

I looked at him. “What does that mean?”

“We put everything off for later,” he muttered. “You never want to talk about what comes next.”

“That’s not true,” I said, my voice low.

Chris stood up and faced me. “Ashley, what’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re different, Ash. Ever since you found out about your parents, you’ve been…you’re not yourself. I want to know if it’s just because of them, or if there’s something else going on.”

“Something else like what?” I asked, feeling even more sick than I had before. Why did we have to have this conversation now? I just wanted to go lie down in the quiet of my bedroom.

He stared at me for a moment before continuing. “Something else, like me. Us.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Ashley. I thought you’d be over the moon about this wedding. Ever since I met you, you’ve been talking about your dream wedding, about the fairytale romance you were going to have some day—”