Beautiful Mistake

Lydia wasn’t kidding that she’d learned a thing or two in her fifty-plus years of marriage. The window of doubt about telling Rachel the truth finally slammed shut. I reached over and squeezed Lydia’s hand. “Umberto’s a very lucky man.”

The look on Umberto’s face when he saw Murphy might have been one of the best things I’d ever witnessed in my life—although I mentally kicked myself in the ass that I hadn’t come with Rachel. She would have loved to see this. I would have loved to watch the smile on her face.

Umberto’s other lady was nowhere in sight today. With Lydia crouched down at his side, Umberto smiled and laughed as he scratched Murphy’s head. My unfaithful four-legged friend lapped up all the new attention. I stood back and took a moment to watch the three of them. Then I gave them some privacy. At least one decision I made was a good one today.

I spent the hour driving home from visiting with Umberto and Lydia thinking about tonight. Then I dropped off Murphy, took a shower, and practiced what I was going to say—how I was going to explain what I’d done without sounding like a total asshole.

I’d even convinced myself I could pull it off, until I arrived at her building and couldn’t think of one way to even begin such a conversation. It was as if I’d just found out who she was all over again. Everything I’d thought about, the words I’d carefully considered, seemed to escape me as I stood outside my car and looked up at her window.

It was an unusually warm fall night with a nice breeze, so her third-floor window was open. Her bedroom light was on, her shade pulled almost all the way down, and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but stand in place and stare. My heart almost stopped when her silhouette appeared. She was in profile, looking away from where I was standing. At first she didn’t move, just stared off into space, but then I saw one hand reach for her wrist, and she started to play with her watch.

Yeah, I’m nervous, too, Feisty. I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way the last few days.

I needed to get this shit over with for both our sakes. Taking a deep breath, I finally headed toward her building. The elevator was slow to arrive and even slower to crawl to the third floor. By the time I stepped off, I had perspiration beading on my forehead. Walking to her door was excruciatingly difficult.

I knocked and waited with my hands in my pockets, staring down at my shoes. Under my breath, I said a little prayer—the irony of that not escaping me.

Rachel opened the door, and I immediately felt a kick to my gut. She looked more beautiful than ever in a green sundress with thin straps that showed off her beautiful, long neck. Her wild, dark hair was down and pushed to one side, and I had the strongest urge to lean in and devour that neck. Unlike her normal, understated makeup, tonight her face was all done up. A bright red, glossy lipstick coated her plump lips, and her lashes were thick and dark, which matched the dark liner that made her almond-shaped eyes look even larger. I was sad that I might not get to brush my lips against hers one last time.

I raised my gaze to meet hers, and my heart beat out of control. I’ve fallen in love with her. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to tell her. But I didn’t want the first time I said those words to be muddied by the conversation we were about to have. I only hoped I’d get to say them one day.

“Hello, Rachel.”

Rachel

“Hi.”

Caine was staring at me funny—as if he wasn’t really seeing me, even though he looked straight at my face.

“Caine?

He blinked a few times. “Sorry. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I stepped aside for him to enter, noting that he hadn’t leaned in for a kiss. I tried to brush it off, but it elevated my already jittery feeling to full-blown panic.

Caine came inside, and things became even more awkward—worse than a bad blind date. I was standing in a room where this man had recently cooked breakfast for me, yet he felt like a complete stranger.

“How are you feeling?” I attempted to make some conversation.

“Better. Thank you. I’m sorry for the way I rushed out of your sister’s apartment and left her to make sure you got home.”

“It’s fine. I understand. You weren’t feeling well.”

Caine nodded and dug his hands into his pockets. After another minute of awkward silence, he cleared his throat.

“Listen, Rachel, we need to talk.”

“Okay. Why don’t we sit down? Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

He followed me into the living room. I sat on one end of the couch, which left plenty of open space for him to join me. But he chose to sit on the adjacent chair.

Caine looked at his feet, then dragged a hand through his hair. Though he could totally pull off the disheveled look, I got the feeling he’d been doing that a lot the last few days, and it had nothing to do with styling. He blew out a loud breath before starting to speak.

“I can’t start a relationship with lies.”

Oh, God. My little lie about Benny had been niggling in the back of my mind ever since I’d talked to Ava about what was going on with Caine. I felt sick. But I refused to let that horrible man take anything else from me.

“I’m sorry about lying. It’s just…it’s not easy for me to talk about.”

Caine attempted to speak, but I cut him off, going into my usual nervous ramble.

“I said I didn’t have a stepfather because I wish I hadn’t had one. I try to pretend he never existed. He wasn’t a nice guy. He was abusive…to me and my sister once my mother died.”

Caine’s jaw flexed. “He abused you?”

I nodded and looked down. “It wasn’t the same for me and my sister. He…” Even after fifteen years, I could barely say the words. “…he sexually abused my sister. But I was too young.”

“So he didn’t touch you?”

I shook my head. “Not the same way he touched my sister.”

A look of relief crossed Caine’s face. “Thank God.”

“But as long as we’re being honest, I told you another small lie. The scar on my back isn’t from falling out of a tree when I was a kid. It’s from my stepfather. The night before the police removed us, he came home earlier than we’d expected. Riley was packing because we were planning on finally going to get help the next morning. Benny ransacked my room and found the bag I’d packed. He lost his mind and started kicking us with his steel-tip boots. That’s what left the scar on my back.”