Confused by her reaction.
“What exactly are you saying, Maise?”
“I don’t know! The real question is, what exactly are we doing? We act like we’re together. I always want to spend time with you. I think you feel the same way. But can’t you see that what we’re doing is impossible?” She shakes her head when I start to talk and I remain quiet. Note the unshed tears in her eyes, making them shine. “I watched my sister and her husband suffer through this. Though their circumstance is different, and Brody was able to move his business here. I don’t have that option, and neither do you.”
Actually, she does have that option. I’m guessing she just doesn’t want to.
“Long distance relationships can work,” I suggest and she’s shaking her head repeatedly.
She doesn’t want to hear it.
“We can’t play at a real couple anymore, Tucker. No matter how badly I want to. In the end, I’m going to get hurt again, and I can’t risk it.” A single tear falls, sliding a damp path down her cheek and I’m tempted to reach across the table and catch it with my th
umb.
I hate to see her cry.
“I would never hurt you.” I rise to my feet, glaring at her, hating the flash of hurt, the flash of pain that streaks through me, sticking low in my gut. She’s basically kicking me out. Why? Because she cares about me too much? “That is the last thing I want to do.”
“Too late.” Her smile is tremulous, like she’s about to break at any moment. “You already did.”
Chapter Fifteen
Maisey
How I made it through the last few days, I’m not sure. After Tucker left my house that night, I broke down. Forget frosting his parents’ cake. All I could do was cry.
And cry and cry and cry.
Maybe I got it all out of my system, because the next day, it was business as usual. Or maybe it was because that’s all I could manage—cry for a few hours, then get back on my feet. I had things to do. A business to run.
I keep telling myself it was for the best, me ending it with Tucker right then and there. I have to protect myself, and him too. While it’s been a lot of fun, spending time with Tucker, and I know if circumstances were different, we could totally make it work. But I refuse to offer up my heart to him one more time, only for him to crush it.
No way could I suffer through that again.
So I concentrated on my work. The wedding cakes both turned out fabulous. Once they were done, I returned to the project I started, and I finished the McCloud anniversary cake late Saturday night.
And now it’s Sunday evening. I delivered and set up the cake a few hours ago, then rushed home, took a shower, and curled my hair into a 1920s style accompanied by a sequined headband and a feather. I carefully applied my makeup, told myself I would not cry tonight, and I arrived at the party fashionably late, wearing my gorgeous black and gold sequined flapper dress.
No way was I going to waste the forty-five bucks I spent on this dress I ordered from Amazon Prime. It’s beautiful. Form fitting, sleeveless, the hem made out of long black fringe, this costume makes me feel like a movie star. Wearing it is making me act more confident than I feel, which is a good thing.
I’m going to need as much confidence as I can muster tonight.
As I enter the ballroom where the party is being held, I see plenty of friends, including most of the McCloud family, and they all wave at me with giant grins on their faces. Seeing everyone renews my feeling that coming tonight was the right choice. I don’t have to skip out on this celebration to save Tucker’s feelings.
Besides, let him catch one last glimpse of me in this dress, just before I strut out of his life for good.
The party is in full swing. Servers move about the room carrying trays laden with appetizers or flutes of champagne. The place is decorated in black and gold streamers, and there are giant number-shaped balloons everywhere—so many 40s I wonder how many they bought. There’s a DJ on a platform right in front of the makeshift dance floor, and the music—currently a song from The Great Gatsby soundtrack—is loud. I see Tucker’s parents out on the dance floor kicking it up, both of them laughing.
My heart kicks as I stop to watch them. To have such a strong love like theirs, to be there for each other unconditionally for the last forty years…
What would that be like? I can’t imagine it. Don’t think I’ll ever be lucky enough to experience something like that either.
“You showed up.”
I turn to find Stella McCloud standing in front of me, gorgeous in a black sequin and lace dress that faintly resembles mine, clutching a glass of champagne.
“I did,” I tell her. From the way she’s looking at me, I hope she’s not mad. “I was invited.”