Reluctantly in Love (26 page)

Scrunching up my nose, I went in search of my parents.

They weren’t in the kitchen or the dining room. I checked the living room, and then the entertainment room. The clock on the wall read ten p.m. I went to my mother’s room and stood outside the door. It didn’t matter that I was irritated with them. I couldn’t expect them to
get it
or to understand my choices. Hell, I didn’t understand theirs.

But they were human. I couldn’t hold their mistakes against them their entire lives. They were who they were, and I was who I was—flawed.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

“Hey, mom. I’m sorry about—”

My eyes went as wide as saucers and I froze.

My mother screamed, and my dad yelled, “Pumpkin!”

“Oh my God, what are you
doing?
” I cried out.

They scrambled to cover themselves with the bed sheets and I stumbled backward, covering my eyes. I crashed into the dresser near the door, then backpedaled and ran into the door. “Oh, God,” I moaned, and walked into the doorframe, bashing my funny bone. It throbbed while I stumbled my way out of the room.

I’d have gone further and faster, but I couldn’t bear to uncover my eyes. I ran into the hallway wall, but kept going. I would be scarred for life.
For life.
I had a flash of the nauseating image of my dad on top of my mother. I gagged and charged into the kitchen doorway.
Must. Reach. Toilet.

“Roxanna!” My mother’s voice only made me pick up the pace.

“I can’t talk to you right now!” I walked into the hallway table and the vase on it crashed to the wood floor. I heard it shatter, but I kept moving. “My eyes! I can’t see!”

She left me alone after that.

I uncovered my eyes—though not without hesitation—and shut myself into the hallway bathroom. I vomited exorcism style into the toilet—merlot and pasta. Gross. But at least I could flush that down the drain. The images of my dad’s gyrating bare bum? Not so much. That image was seared to my brain.

I splashed cold water on my cheeks, and then patted my face dry on the fluffy grey towel. My reflection stared back at me with dark raccoon eyes. Now what was I supposed to do? Electroshock therapy was out since I didn’t think I could handle any more physical torture. But, there had to be something that could erase my short term memory without side effects like turning my brain to gelatin.

I pulled the door open just a sliver and peeked out with just one eyeball. The coast was clear. I let out a breath of relief and edged the door open wider. This time I craned my head out and looked left and right. The hallway was empty. Thank God.

I needed to get out of the house. Far, far away. If space travel was a real option, I’d utilize that mode of transportation. My options were limited due to the amount of merlot in my veins. However, I’d thrown up so much maybe that canceled out how much I’d had to drink by at least half.

I tiptoed into the kitchen and unhooked my purse off the peg, then made a mad dash to the front door.

“Roxanna, why don’t you sit down here so your mother and I can talk to you?”

I jumped at my dad’s voice and whirled to find them watching me from the living room couch. “Jesus, Dad.”

“Roxanna Leigh! Your mouth,” my mother said with her mother-glare.

I crossed my arms. “
Um
, after what I just saw, I don’t think you should be lecturing me on my language.”

“Pumpkin, please, sit down.” My dad stood and gestured to the couch across from them.

“I think I’ll stand. My,
uh
, butt hurts from vomiting.”

My mother narrowed her eyes at me. “That makes no sense, Roxanna.”

“And neither does a world in which my
divorced parents
get busy in the
guest room
during my
birth week.
”

My dad sighed. “Sweetie, I know it’s hard to understand, but your mother and I are in love.”

“You’re in love.” I sniffed, my eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yes, we’re in love,” my dad said.

“You’re in love.”

“Yes, we are,” my mother said.

“You are.” I couldn’t do anything but repeat them, because it was ridiculous. I laughed and sounded like a hysterical crazy person. I probably was.
Crazy eyes for sure
.

“
Anak,
your father and I are moving in together.”

My eyes bulged. “How is that when he’s
married?
Remember? He’s on his third marriage. Or am I the only one who remembers the last ten years?”

“I’ve already left Hilary, Pumpkin. I filed for divorce months ago.” My dad sat down beside my mother and took her hand in his. “Your mother is my soul mate.”

“Don’t you think that’s something you should have figured out years ago?” I threw my hands up while I paced. “Like,
um
, maybe while you were
married
?” My voice was shrill, but I couldn’t help it.

“
Anak.”

I stopped pacing and crossed my arms. “No, you don’t get to
anak
me, Mother. That man broke your heart into a million little pieces and you were
damaged.
And while you were being damaged, and Dad was living his dreams, I was living here
by
myself.
Remember?”

“Now, honey, that’s not fair.” My dad’s lips drew together in a line of disapproval, and all I could think of was how inappropriate his annoyance was.

“No. It’s not fair.
At all
.” I threw my hands up and kept pacing. “I mean, do you have any idea how badly you two screwed me up? I mean, like
really
screwed me up.” I whirled on them and jerked my pointer fingers at my head. “I can’t even
love
someone because of how
screwed up
your marriage was.”

“But you have a boyfriend. And as long as you marry the doctor, you’ll be fine financially.” She said it like she’d just won a victory.

I gaped. “I don’t need to marry Chase to be fine financially. I don’t have to marry
anyone
to be fine financially. I have a
job
. And I pay
bills.
And I’m going to be a published author.”

My parents exchanged glances that set my teeth on edge.

I added, “Whether you believe me or not.”

“If you’re not going to join the company, you really should think about marriage.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my fingers to my temples. “I am an independent, emotionally handicapped person who will
never marry
because I would rather die
alone
than spend the rest of my life repeating your relationship mistakes.”

“Now, that’s enough, young lady,” my dad said.

I popped my eyelids open and shook my head. “No. No, it’s not. Because you two spent the last years you were together fighting and screaming and
leaving,
and now suddenly you’re
in love?
” I threw my hands up again. “As if that’s not
weird?
”

“Your father didn’t leave,
anak
. I kicked him out.”

“You did
what?
” I put my head in my hands and stared up at the corner of the ceiling. This was getting better and better. “You let me believe he left us. You told me not to trust men—
ever.
You told me not to fall in love. Because guys
leave.
And it was you who kicked him out?”

“It was for the best, Pumpkin.”

Laughing, I fisted my hands in my hair. “And no one thought this was information I needed to know?” I dropped my hands. “I’m too tired for this. You two are the worst parents ever. In all of freaking history, maybe.”

My dad drew himself up to his full six-feet-two-inches. “Now you listen here, young lady—”

“No, Dad.” I dug in my purse, shoving aside my wallet, the bottle of hand sanitizer, my checkbook, and pulled out my cell phone. “I will not
listen here
. I am
all listened out
. And my eyes are burning. They’ll probably burn forever. Also, I think my gag reflex is broken.
Forever.
”

I stormed out the front door and stomped down the porch steps with nowhere to go and no way to get there. I could call Chase, but then I’d have to wait for him to get here. I’d probably have a quicker getaway with a cab.

It was freezing out, and I’d forgotten to grab a jacket to put over my sweater dress. At least I had on warm leggings. My feet were cold, on their way to numb. I hadn’t thought past getting out of the house, and still wore slippers.

The air was frigid. Snow would be here soon, and it wasn’t my thing. Neither was being ambushed. My head reeled with information overload. It was all too much.

I waited in my car for a cab and prayed my parents wouldn’t come after me. They didn’t.

“Where we headed?” the cabbie asked. He pulled a clipboard onto his lap and scribbled something on the sheet.

“To a liquor store and then the Marriott.”

“Rough night, huh?” He glanced back and nudged his wire rimmed glasses up by the nosepiece.

“The worst.” The cabbie had the heater turned up to high, but my toes didn’t unthaw as quickly as I’d have liked. “Thanks for the ride.”

“It’s what I’m here for, ma’am. Mind if I turn up the tunes?”

“Music’s good.”

Oldies flooded the van.

I couldn’t believe this night. What I thought was an ambush about my career had turned into a shit storm of family dysfunction. I kept picturing my mom all those years ago, lying on her bed clutching a pillow wet with her tears, telling me to never trust a man.
So I hadn’t
. I pictured my dad, rebuilding his life without me. I relived all the years I spent thinking everything was his fault, that he was the one to quit our family.

Leaning back into the seat, I closed my eyes. I was exhausted. I was hurt. I was confused.

I was an angry mess of
what the fuck just happened
?

Chapter Twenty-Four

I settled into the hotel room, prepped with lime, cranberry juice, and enough vodka to drink away the memories of the day.

Being a depressed drunk was new to me. I was too young for this shit. I’d been so careful these last ten years to toughen up, because tough people didn’t get hurt. They didn’t feel rejected or lonely. They didn’t have annoying stirrings of abandonment by parents who forgot a thirteen year old needed someone in their life to guide them. Tough people turned those emotions off, and downplayed the hurt and confusion with jokes and sarcasm and lots of laughter.

I’d spent most of my adulthood as the life of the party, with stone walls high around my heart. And all for what? For my parents to suddenly decide they were meant for each other after dragging me through years of disastrous relationships, including theirs?

The knock on the hotel room door startled me from my sprawl on the queen-sized bed. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Lexie knew I was here, only because my mother had called Leo to ask him to check on me.

My parents loved me—I knew that. I just wished for once they’d stand up and say, ‘I’m sorry. We should have been there for you.
’
But instead, they sat me down to tell me after everything—all the fighting, all the screaming, every slammed door and hateful verbal jab—they were in love. Again. For real this time.
What the fuck?

I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled to the door. I’d definitely had too much to drink because I forgot to check the peephole before yanking the door open.

Chase stood in the hallway, his hand poised to knock.

My plan had been to hole up here and shut myself off from the outside world for the night. Just one night to myself. Without my parents. Without my friends, whose family was exactly the kind of family I’d grown up dreaming were mine. Without Chase, who would never understand the dysfunction that’d shaped me into the independent and emotionally challenged woman I was today.

He must have sensed something was wrong because he’d messaged a couple of times and called once, and I hadn’t answered. He’d want to ask questions and I wasn’t used to sharing this kind of baggage. I’d never let a man get close enough where feelings entered into the conversation. Chase was the kind of guy who was made for holding hands and whispered feelings in the dark, and I’d never been that kind of woman.

Seeing him standing at my hotel room door, his forehead creased with concern, a thought hit me—we didn’t fit together.
I’m not the right woman for him. He deserves more
. He deserved to be with someone who could give him everything he wanted—kids, a white picket fence, the big ass van, a woman who could pour her heart out to him instead of frantically rebuilding the fortress around her heart every time she let a few bricks fall.

“Roxanna.” His voice registered worry. “Are you okay? Lexie messaged me that you were here. She thought I should check on you.”

I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until he spoke my name. I let it out in a ragged gasp. With my hand on the door, I leaned against it. “I’m fine. Parent stuff.”

He stepped over the threshold and took me in his arms, hugging me. I was back to barely breathing, certain he’d want to talk. Chase would offer advice out of compassion and from the eyes of a man who’d only known how a normal family functioned. His heart was so big, which was one of the reasons I cared about him. His heart was so much bigger than mine.
He deserves better.

A part of me knew I’d come to this realization if I saw him now. That same part had been worried I’d react this way, that I’d pull away from him like this. Hiding out in a hotel room would have kept me from this—
kept us from this.

I should have sent him a text message. Anything to avoid a face-to-face until I could sort myself out. I hadn’t wanted him to see me like this.

But he was here now, wearing the cologne that I loved, gazing at me with eyes that made my knees weak.
Too weak.

“I was worried about you.” He pulled away but didn’t let go of my hand.