That’s over now.
Then warm fingers entwine with mine.
Ashley stands next to me. “Hey,” she says.
I turn my head. “Where did you come from?”
“My mother always says I came from heaven.” She smiles.
Ava, Henry, and Donny laugh. I resist the urge to smile. Why? Why do I resist?
“I’m happy for you two,” Ava says.
“Me too,” Donny says.
Ashley squeezes my hand.
“It’s complicated,” finally comes out of my mouth.
Ashley’s grip on my hand weakens. I’ve disappointed her. That’s the last thing I want, but it was always inevitable. I disappoint those closest to me.
I disappointed the most important person in my life once before, so many years ago.
It’s what I do.
“What’s complicated about it?” Ava asks. “It’s a relationship.”
“That’s what makes it complicated,” I say.
“It doesn’t have to be,” Ava continues.
I love Ava, and she means well, but she doesn’t know the half of what Donny and I went through. We never told Diana, Bree, and the cousins. The adults all decided for Donny and me at the time, and now… Well, now it would just be punitive to tell them. They’d all feel terrible, and not one of us wants that.
“I keep trying to tell him that,” Ashley agrees.
Ava smiles at me through her lip piercing. “You got this.”
I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or to Ashley. Doesn’t matter. I don’t “got this.” Two months. I’ll give Ashley her two months.
Which means she won’t be here for the big Ryan and Ruby Thanksgiving extravaganza.
And a little part of me dies inside at the thought.
Chapter Eighteen
Ashley
It’s complicated.
Aren’t all relationships complicated? Shouldn’t they be? If they were easy, everyone would be in one. There’d be no breakups. No divorce.
If they were easy, they wouldn’t be worth anything.
I sigh inwardly. Getting Dale to understand that concept won’t be easy, but I’ll face the challenge. He’s worth it. He’s worth everything.
I squeeze his hand once more. “Want to get something to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I am.”
“All right. Excuse us, I guess.” He leads me over to the table where Darla has set up dinner.
I fill a plate with a burger and all the fixings. Brendan Murphy pops into my head. He made burgers the night we shared the Château Latour.
“Come on,” I urge Dale. “You have to eat something. You’re probably still weak from being caught in the fire.”
He stiffens.
Damn. I had to go and mention the fire.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly, “but you do need to eat. And drink. Water, not wine.”
He sighs. “You’re right.” He takes a plate and piles two burgers on a bun.
“A double, huh?” I smile.
“You told me I had to eat.” He grabs a bottle of water and holds it up. “And water.”
I nod and take another bottle. “I’ll join you.”
“Why? You can have alcohol.”
“Maybe I don’t want any.”
“Suit yourself.” He leads me to an unoccupied table.
“You don’t want to join anyone?” I ask.
“If I did, I would have joined them.”
I nod and sit down next to him. This is classic Dale. The loner. At least I get to be with him.
“So when does the big family meeting start?” I ask.
“Usually after everyone has eaten. Dad and my uncles will lead it.”
“Not Aunt Marjorie?”
“She doesn’t work for the company. Uncle Bryce does.”
“Oh. Right. Got it.” I take a bite of my burger. Juice runs down my chin, and I whisk it away with my napkin. “Wow. Juicy.”
“Best burgers ever,” he says, taking a bite.
“They’re even better than Brendan’s,” I say, and then I want to flog myself.
Why the hell did I offer that? It just popped out.
Dale goes rigid next to me. Then, after he swallows, “Murphy served you burgers with Château Latour?”
Right. Dale’s a gourmet cook. Brendan decidedly is not. “He did. They actually went really well with it.”
“Steel Chateaubriand for two would have gone better.”
“True.”
Brendan Murphy probably didn’t have a Steel tenderloin at his disposal. Probably couldn’t afford it anyway. But I keep this tidbit to myself.
“Was the wine any good?” Dale asks.
“Of course it was. It’s a Latour.”
He nods, stuffing another bite of burger into his mouth.
He swallows. “My favorite is Château Lascombes.”
I raise my eyebrows. “A second cru? Really?”
“That surprises you,” he says.
“A little. I mean, premier cru is premier cru.”
“First growth doesn’t necessarily mean better. Besides, there’s a certain subjectivity to wine tasting, as you know.”
“I know. It’s just…”
“You thought a Steel would want a premier cru, right?”
“Well…yeah.”
“I want what tastes the best to me, and that’s Château Lascombes.”
I smile at him. “Fair enough. I’ve actually never tried Château Lascombes. We tried all the premiers crus in one of my tasting labs, but only some of the seconds.”
“I have several bottles in the cellar,” he says. “You want to taste it now?”
“Right now? Before the meeting?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Because… Because I want to enjoy it with you. Take the time it deserves. Not when we’re here with everyone.”