Making It Last (Camelot 4)

She looked at Tony, wondering the same thing.

Ten years of fatherhood had carved all the lines in his face deeper, and ever since he’d shaved off his hair for a charity fund-raiser he’d been keeping it short—he said because it was more convenient, but she thought mostly because it had grown back much more salt-and-pepper than it used to be.

She liked that salt-and-pepper. All her favorite things about the way Tony looked were the things no one else noticed or cared about. The way his bottom front teeth had been moving slowly out of alignment, one pushing to the front, the other ducking behind. The dimple in his right ear where he’d had it pierced as a teenager.

She’d found a snapshot of him with a diamond stud in that ear at his mother’s house. He looked so young in the picture, so unfinished and unsure, that she’d asked her mother-in-law if she could take it home. She’d framed it and put it on top of her dresser, because she loved that boy he’d been once. Long before he met her, when he’d raised hell with his brother Patrick until the horrible day when Patrick struck his daughter with his car and killed her. Tony had been in the backseat. The young, unfinished boy he had been had died that day, too.

Tragedies happened, and people kept going, but they never forgot. Never really got over it. Grief for Nicole still stood between Tony and Patrick, all these years later.

Amber looked at the pink slash of scar tissue through Tony’s eyebrow where Patrick had decked him last year. The last night they’d spoken to each other.

Tony returned her gaze, but he didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like him, and the longer she waited, the farther her stomach sank. Finally, she asked, “What is it?” because she knew, suddenly, that he was about to say something terrible and ill-timed.

He’d met someone else. Someone young and vibrant who had ambitions beyond fitting back into her pre-pregnancy clothes. A woman who read the newspaper and had opinions, topics of conversation other than her children.

The idea made her belligerent—so much so that it must have shown in her eyes, because Tony flinched away from her slightly, taken aback.

I never asked for this to happen to me, she wanted to tell him. I’ve just been trying so hard for so long, I don’t have anything left. Not for you. Not even for me.

I don’t know who I am anymore.

“You can stay,” he said. “If you want to.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay here a few more days. Take a break.”

“Where is this coming from?”

She turned slightly so she could see the driver. He was standing on the running board, his head popping over the top of the van. Beaming discomfort in their direction.

Tony took her by the shoulder and firmly steered her back around to face him.

“It was Jamila’s idea, but she’s right. This vacation sucked for you. I think—I think a lot of things must suck for you, and I can’t usually do anything about it.” He exhaled and raked his hand over his head. Pushing his fingers through hair he didn’t have anymore. “This time I can. You know how Jamila’s leaving early?”

Amber nodded.

“Well, she says her reservation is completely paid for. Nonrefundable. Their room’s going empty. You can stay there, eat on the resort’s dime, and we can swing the change fee on your ticket. So why don’t you just take a few days?”

“Without you and the boys?”

He smiled. “It’ll be better without us. You can eat at that restaurant you wanted to go to—the fancy one—without listening to us complain. And get a massage. Take a nap and read your book on the beach.” He squeezed her shoulder.

“How come?”

But she knew. It was because she’d cried, and he’d seen her.

Because she couldn’t keep it together anymore.

“You deserve a break.”

“I’m really okay. Despite any appearances to the contrary.”

“I know. But you wanted this, right? The whole thing with the beach and the sun and the girly umbrella drinks. And you didn’t get it at all.”

She had wanted it. She’d bookmarked the website page about the resort’s family-friendly activities. The Kids’ Club. A second honeymoon, she’d told herself. She and Tony, at least halfway unburdened from their ordinary preoccupation with jobs and children.

Everything he described, she’d thought they would be able to do together.