“Jesus …” Graham leaned his head back, closing his eyes and massaging his temples.
“You’re so drunk,” Evelyn murmured.
I was the odd man out, left with nothing but a drunk woman’s confessions to spark my wild imagination since no one else offered to elaborate or clarify anything. Evelyn wouldn’t even look at me, so I took a nice long drink of my champagne, nearly emptying my glass all at once.
That got her attention.
She tore me apart with a look. Evelyn made me feel more vulnerable than I ever thought humanly possible. She was the beginning and the end, the mother of my children, the keeper of my heart, the reason my lungs took breaths, my absolute favorite … everything.
Wanting her felt like an honor. Needing her felt like a failure.
Silence took us hostage until we reached the Porter estate. Evelyn didn’t wait for anyone. She didn’t ask why we were there instead of at her favorite restaurant. Letting the roses fall to the floor of the limo, she jumped out and ran toward the front door.
Lila cringed, giving me a regretful frown. Graham completely avoided making any sort of eye contact with me as he helped Lila slip on her black coat. I climbed out of the limo, taking long strides after Evelyn.
Everything in my chest ached as she opened the front door before I could stop her.
“Surprise!” echoed from the crowd of guests.
Her body froze, like hitting a wall. I made it to the threshold just as her mom hugged her.
“You look beautiful, baby.” Madeline smiled at me from over Evelyn’s shoulder.
Had she only known how her baby’s husband and her friends shit on her birthday before ever getting to the party, she wouldn’t have been smiling. I couldn’t get to my wife. The crowd of guests swallowed her, showering her with hugs and birthday wishes.
“Forget everything I said …” Lila mumbled to me as Graham helped her into the house. “It was the alcohol.”
Graham finally looked at me as Lila followed the crowd toward the great room filled with more people and catered food and drinks. “It’s all good, buddy.” He squeezed my shoulder before following Lila.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Evelyn
I didn’t want a surprise party.
It wasn’t my thing. It was Lila’s and Graham’s thing. However, after the string of events that led me to the front door of the Porter estate, I felt for the first time that day like I could breathe.
My family and friends.
Ronin’s parents were there after spending months in Singapore while Ling finished approving the final line of her summer collection.
Sophie.
Julien and his wife.
My sister, Katie, and her husband, Tanner.
Tami and Noah.
Even Graham’s parents took the time to come wish me happy birthday.
The biggest surprise was my kids. Graham flew them to Denver earlier in the day. I thought Ronin was taking them to Sue’s for the night. I was wrong.
However, Sue was there too. After dinner, she took them upstairs to one of the bedrooms and put them to bed.
It was by far the most perfect and tragic birthday of my life.
Ronin followed me like a shadow all night. He stood by me with his hand on my lower back when it felt right to put on an act for the guests. He smiled on cue and laughed at the appropriate moments. I glued together that awful mask I’d owned for so many years and put it on—bent and ready to fall to pieces again if I let it slip as much as an inch.
Graham stayed out of sight most of the evening while Lila found a chair and ottoman to elevate her leg while people lined up to see how she was feeling since the accident.
“Andre said it’s time to cut the cake,” Mom whispered in my ear as one of Graham’s old buddies from college talked my other ear off about the Yankees, not realizing I had two kids and zero time to follow sports like I used to.
And yes, Andre was the party planner. My fortieth birthday party was better planned, and probably more expensive, than most couples’ wedding receptions.
“Time for cake,” I announced with a smile to end the baseball conversation.
It was all too extravagant, yet I didn’t take for granted a single second of it. After all, I knew it might be the last time I would get to share something like that while my mom was still alive.
I fought an onslaught of tears as everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to me. Then I blew out forty candles on a huge cherry amaretto cake as cheers and clapping filled the room.
“Speech!” Lila yelled from just a few feet in front of me, balancing on her crutches, much more sober than she was in the limo.
Silence swept through the room, leaving all eyes on me. My heart raced. I preferred attention in small doses where I didn’t shake under the microscope of the large crowd.