Hudson’s brows drew together. “You love the bathroom?”
“Uhhh, yeah.” I waved my hands around to what I thought was obvious. “It’s about ten times the size of the one I have at home, has a bathtub, and look at all this beautiful lighting.”
Hudson smiled. “I think you’re going to like my house.”
“Are you saying you have a big bathroom with a tub?”
He nodded.
“You’re definitely my new best friend.”
***
A hand holder.
I never would’ve guessed.
I smiled up at Hudson. He contemplated me suspiciously.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “You’re holding my hand.”
“Should I not be?”
“No, I love it. I just wouldn’t have taken you for a hand holder.”
Hudson shook his head. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, or I should be insulted.”
We’d been walking along Hollywood Boulevard for the last half hour, reading the names of the stars on the street. So far today, we’d gone to Muscle Beach in Venice (I thought it would be fancier; the weights were actually all rusty.), the Hollywood sign (He tricked me into hiking…yuck.), and the Santa Monica Pier (Note to self—macho men would rather ride a rickety Ferris wheel than admit to being a little afraid of heights. Hudson’s olive skin turns a lovely shade of green.).
“It’s just a coupley thing to do.”
“So?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Is that what we are?”
Hudson abruptly stopped walking. “Seriously?”
“What? I didn’t want to assume just because of last night.”
Hudson frowned. “Well, let me clear that up for you. We are.”
I couldn’t hide the smile that grew on my face. “Okay…boyfriend.”
He shook his head and started walking again.
After another hour and a dozen or more blocks of walking, we went into the Roosevelt Hotel to a fancy-looking place that served burgers and the best truffle fries for dinner.
“What’s your favorite food?” I waved a fry at him.
“Easy. Macaroni and cheese.”
“Really?”
“Yup. Charlie and I have tried…I think we’re up to forty-two different boxed kinds.”
I laughed. “I had no idea there were forty-two different types of boxed mac and cheese.”
“We make one most weekends she spends with me. We ran through the ones in the supermarket, so now I buy them online. She keeps a chart with our ratings.”
“That’s so funny.”
Hudson sipped his beer. “What about you?”
“These truffle fries are a close second. But I’d have to say tortellini carbonara—the kind with peas and little pieces of prosciutto in it.”
“You make it yourself?”
I frowned. “No, my mom used to make it for me. She actually also made an amazing baked mac and cheese. I don’t have either of the recipes.”
Looking down, I swirled the fry in the ketchup. It made me sad to think how long it had been since I’d spoken to my mom.
Hudson must have noticed I’d gone quiet.
“You mentioned you don’t talk to your dad,” he said. “Are you and your mom not close?”
I sighed. “We haven’t spoken in more than a year. We used to be really close.”
Hudson was quiet for a moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “Not really.”
He nodded.
I attempted to go back to eating and not ruin the day. I hated thinking about what had happened, much less talking about it. But now that the topic had come up, I knew I shouldn’t let the opportunity pass entirely. Telling Hudson at least some of what happened between Aiden and me and my family might help him understand my trust issues a little more.
So I took a deep breath. “I told you my ex cheated on me, but I didn’t mention that my parents also betrayed me.”
Hudson set down his burger and gave me his full attention. “Okay…”
I looked down. “They knew about Aiden’s affair.”
“And they didn’t tell you?”
I looked down, feeling embarrassed. “No, they didn’t say a word. It was a mess.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell the rest of the sordid story.
Hudson shook his head. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
I nodded. “Thank you. Honestly, in hindsight, it wasn’t Aiden who was so hard to get over. It was that I also lost my family at the same time.” I frowned. “I miss talking to my mom.”
Hudson dragged a hand through his hair. “Do you think you can forgive her and move past it at some point?”
For the last year, I hadn’t thought that would ever be possible. I’d been so bitter and sad about everything that, on some level, I might’ve held my parents as accountable as I did Aiden. Maybe it took me being happy for the first time in a long time, but today I didn’t feel so bitter, and I wasn’t sure I should hold a grudge against my family forever.
I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can forget. But maybe I could try to forgive. Would you be able to pretend it never happened if you were in my situation?”
“I’ve never been in a similar predicament to say for sure, but as someone who’s lost both parents, I wouldn’t want to have regrets when they were gone. I don’t think forgiving your parents means you’re excusing their behavior. I think forgiveness is more about not letting it destroy your heart anymore.”