Mr. Smithfield - Page 63

“You don’t think she’ll stick around? Maybe she’s changed.”

I rolled my eyes. “People don’t change. I’m just entering some kind of cycle where I have to protect Bethany as best as I can and prepare her for when Penelope takes off again.”

Autumn tucked her knees under her chin as we sat together in silence. “How can you be so certain? I know she left before, but people make mistakes.”

“And are destined to repeat them,” I replied. It was nice that Autumn saw the best in people, but she was being ridiculously naïve. She’d not experienced the reality of the world which presented the evidence very clearly: people didn’t change and second chances were always wasted. “I’ve seen it all before.” I tipped my head back on the sofa. I’d lived this cycle once already.

“I thought she just left once? Did she walk out before?”

“Not her,” I said, remembering the arguments. The flowers. The door banging. The late-night pounding on the doors.

Autumn slid her hand into mine and squeezed. I was taking my bad mood out on her. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know people like I did.

“My father cheated on my mother. A lot. She’d make him leave and then he’d come back. Say he’d ended it. Apologize. Assure her that it would never happen again. She’d take him back. Then a few months later the cycle would start all over again. Each time he convinced her that he’d changed, that he deserved a second chance. But he was always the same weak, pathetic liar. And she always fell for it.”

I wouldn’t make the same mistake. My mother had been frightened to divorce my father. She hadn’t wanted the social stigma, the money worries, the loneliness. But she’d paid a very high price for staying married. And as her son, so had I.

I wouldn’t put Bethany through that. I wouldn’t put myself through that. Not again.

“Did Penelope leave for someone else?” Autumn asked. “Was she cheating?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” It didn’t matter why she’d left. I’d heard every excuse under the sun for letting your family down. Not a one of them was excuse enough.

“But if the problem wasn’t cheating, then maybe she just had a hump to get over and now she’s over it and ready to be a mother and a wife?”

It sounded like Autumn wanted me to take Penelope back, wanted me to give her a second chance. It was the last thing I wanted to hear. Especially from Autumn, who I cared deeply about, who I raced home from work to see, who I’d just begun to see a future with.

“I should go into the workshop,” I said, standing. I needed some space and I wanted to get away from this conversation. I’d said all I had to say about Penelope. There was no need to rehash it. “I’ve bought an old desk that I’m going to polish up and put in the bedroom next to yours. I’m going to work from home more. That way I can be home for bedtime more often.”

Autumn stood and smoothed her hand over my cheek. “You’re a great father. A good man.” And she shrugged. “And hot as hell. You need an apprentice to help buff your wood?”

I chuckled at her ridiculousness. I wanted to be angry and sullen about my situation, but Autumn made it impossible. But she couldn’t shine her light and make everything perfect. She needed to see there was no future where Penelope was part of my life. I’d gotten over her leaving and I wasn’t going to step back onto that roller coaster again.

Thirty

Autumn

I was officially pissed off on my sister’s behalf.

“Are you mad at him?” I asked her as we stood in front of the store that had fresh pink and blue flowers draped around the storefront like some kind of magical fairyland. Hollie had called me this morning and begged me to come to the florist with her. Dexter had had some kind of issue with a client not being happy with her ginormous diamond and had to go sort it out, and Hollie didn’t want to choose their wedding flowers by herself.

“He was really upset that he couldn’t be here. We tried to rearrange but this woman is booked up for like, five years and a day. I’m sorry I had to drag you here.”

“It’s fine,” I said.

“I thought you might be busy with Gabriel,” she said, stepping forward to smell one of the hanging lilacs that drooped over the door.

“We didn’t have particular plans. And I always like hanging out with you. I’m just a little concerned with Dexter’s lack of participation in your wedding. I mean, I know he offered to take your name and everything, but it feels a little sexist.”

“It looks that way. But there’s so much to do and I think he’s actually done more than me. The guest list, the invitations, the seating plan. All Dex. He’s not intentionally missing meetings.”

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