A Moment of Truth: A Complete Bonus Set (A Matter of Trust #1-2) (48 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

On Saturday morning, Camille, Bridget, and I head to my parents’ house. My dad should already be out, and we’re helping my mother get last minute things done. Hopefully, she’ll be too busy with the party to talk about my life.

And miracle of miracles, that’s exactly what happens. My mom spends the day delegating jobs. By early evening, everything is all set, and the girls and I freshen up in my old bedroom.

“It’s weird being here without Dan,” I say, sliding on dressy black pants and a soft, fuzzy purple sweater.

“How many more weeks?”

“Three.”

“Well, it’s almost over, right?” Camille asks.

“Feels like years have passed.” I sigh, straightening out my sweater.

“Tonight’s a good distraction, at least.”

“True.”

All dressed and ready for the party, we go downstairs. The house looks stunning. My mother hired a decorating team to come in to strategically place twinkling lights, candles, and bouquets of fresh flowers. Tables are set up in the tented area that opens up off the French doors in the living room. The same decorations follow in there, too. The caterers have taken over the kitchen, and the smell is amazing.

“People should be arriving any moment!” my mother says as she’s smoothing out her silky, designer dress.

“You look very pretty, Mom,” I say without thinking, and she gives me a surprised look that makes me feel awkward about the compliment. I guess we’ve gotten so used to being at odds.

“You look lovely yourself, honey.” She kisses me on the cheek.

The doorbell rings, and she’s off to answer it. In the next thirty minutes, droves of relatives and my parents’ friends arrive. The buzz of anticipation of my dad’s arrival turns into his overwhelming surprise and watery-eyed happiness. He’s hugging everyone and beaming with my mom right next to him, holding his hand and glowing. I’m not sure I’ve ever appreciated how much they genuinely enjoy and love each other. We take some family photos while hors d’oeuvres and drinks are passed around.

After dinner, there’s dancing. I can’t believe my mother planned for people to dance, but she did! It’s wonderful to watch my dad lead my mother, who floats along with him to the music.

“Hello,” I hear from behind me. I turn and blink, momentarily confused.

“
Dan
!” I wrap my arms around his neck, nearly knocking him over. “What—why—how did you get here? Oh my God!” I kiss him.

He pulls back to answer, but keeps a tight hold around my waist. “You have no idea the amount of lying I had to do to get here—but here I am. Surprise!”

I giggle and hug him again—so tightly I notice him struggling to breathe for a second. Camille and Bridget come over. “Hey! So good to see you!” Camille says, giving Dan a quick hug.

“You’ve raised the bar for men, Dan,” Bridget says, laughing as she gives him a hug, too.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” I say again, wrapping my arms around his waist once more.
I’m never letting go!

“Well, let’s make the most of it.” He nods to the dance floor. “I’m not a great dancer, but would you like to dance?”

I beam at him, and I’m bouncing a bit, hardly able to contain my excitement. “Yes!” He takes my hand to lead me out there, and we dance to a Sinatra song. “How long can you stay?” I link my hands around his neck; he links his around my waist. We move slowly in a tight circle. Our bubble is intact!

“I only have a couple of hours and then a flight back to L.A.” He kisses my head. As I glance around the room, I catch my dad’s eye across the dance floor. He grins and winks at me, which surprises me because it’s like he understands.

I focus again on Dan. “How did you get here? I thought you were on lockdown. And what happened to Rodney?”

“Interestingly enough, Rodney ate some really bad food.”

“Oh my God—you poisoned him, didn’t you?” I say, laughing.

Dan laughs, shaking his head. “Rodney has no idea what made him sick—and neither do I—but he’s so embarrassed about being sick he made me promise not to rat on him, so . . . I told him I’d be out for a bit, and here I am.”

“Clear across the country? Thank you for taking the chance.” I stop dancing and hug him hard.

“Of course.” He pulls back to look at me. “Plus, now I can remind you—in person—that you’re not going anywhere with Ian.”

“That’s not why you came here, is it? To tell me that?”

“It’s not the only reason, but . . .” He twirls me unexpectedly then snatches me closely, rubbing his scruffy face into my neck.

Laughing, I wiggle away, but we remain in our bubble, semi-dancing. “You came all this way—the best secret surprise—and since you aren’t staying long, let’s not talk about Ian, okay?” I finger the pokey ends of hair at the back of his neck, stirring up the soap-and-shaving-cream scent. “Your hair is getting longer.”

“You’re getting prettier.” He gazes down at me, his eyes searching.

Blushing, I fall under his spell. I breathe deeply and rest my ear against his chest. His heartbeat, strong and right here, pulses rhythmically. I tear up. I don’t ever want him to go.

When the song ends he lifts my chin and kisses me sweetly. “My love,” he whispers. Hand-in-hand, we leave the dance floor, and Camille and Bridget start hammering him with questions.

“I’ll go get us a drink while the investigators interrogate you—their favorite pastime.” I giggle. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods, and they begin talking while I head to the minibar on the other side of the dance floor. As the drinks are being made, I turn around, and watch Dan laugh with Camille and Bridget.
God, he’s beautiful. Mr. Beautiful.

“Claire?”

I hear someone call my name from behind me. I turn to grab the drinks when I realize it’s not the bartender calling my name, it’s . . . “Mark?”
Am I seeing right?
I blink to clear my vision.

“Hi. How are you?” He grins and glances around nervously.

My heart’s stopped and I can hardly breathe. “Wh—How—Why are you here?”

He squirms, shoving his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. I notice he’s dressed as preppy as ever. “Uh, well—”

“Mark! How are you? I’m so glad you could make it,” my mother says, smiling wide as she walks over. She leans in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. I take the moment to notice that he looks mostly the same, except with slightly longer hair that’s a bit slicked back and is sporting a beard.

“You invited him?” I say to her, stunned.

She smiles proudly at me and grabs his arm. “Mark and I ran into one another yesterday at the grocery store, and we started talking about you, so I just figured it’d be nice for him to come. Thought you two might like to catch up.”

I’m speechless. In all the times of my life I’ve been shocked speechless, I’ve never been this speechless.

“I’m not sure this was such a good idea,” Mark says, taking in my silence and reading what must be my horrified face. He begins to step backwards until my mother stops him.

“Nonsense!” She grabs the drink I ordered for Dan and hands it to Mark. “Here. Cheers!” She clanks her glass with his. “Claire’s working in the music industry now. She gave up teaching.” She stops to examine my twitchy, heated-face. “But she says she’s happy.”

Mark nods. I’ve never known him to be uncomfortable, but there’s a first time for everything.

“Mark’s been coaching at the college—baseball, right?” my mother says. “Two educators!”

I narrow my eyes at her.
Two educators? Really?

Mark swallows uncomfortably. “Been there for about two years now.”

I blink as my confusion morphs into outrage and anger. “So whatever happened to Hailey—you know, the one you left me for?”

“Oh, Claire. No need to dig up the past,” my mom says, still smiling, still trying to make this work out as she planned.

Mark ignores her. “She, uh, lives in Colorado now. She met this woman, Sandra, at a spa here, and they moved there together. They run an inn now.”

“She left you for another woman?” I almost burst into laughter at the karma of the situation, but I hold it in.

He nods and glances around.

“Hello,” Dan says with a perplexed look on his face as he comes up on my right, flanked by Camille and Bridget.

“Hi,” I say, wrapping my arm around Dan’s waist. “Look who came to surprise me, Mom.”

My mother’s eyes bulge, and her drink nearly drops from her hand. “I . . . I didn’t think you two were together anymore. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you we never broke up, but you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Well, Mark is here,” my mom says, as if that should matter.

“Because you invited him.”

“I think I should—” Mark begins to say.

My mom tries to speak, too, but Dan’s voice dominates. “You’re Mark? The guy she was supposed to marry?” His jaw is set, and his hand claws into my waist.

Mark puts his hands up in surrender. “Claire, look, I’m sorry I came. Yeah, your mom invited me, but I only came to apologize to you—something I should have done a long time ago.” He shakes his head.

I can feel my nostrils flaring with every angry breath. My hands are shaking with rage. I turn to glare at my mother, whose face is frozen with a grin, as if it could keep this situation cordial.

“So my boyfriend flies across the country to surprise me, but instead you decide to surprise me with a visit from a ghost who nearly broke me and left me hollow for years. Once again, it’s about
you
, Mom. What you want is what I’m going to get, is that it? Even if Dan and I weren’t together, what makes you think I’d want to see—” I point at Mark. “Him again?”

“Claire, you’re making everyone uncomfortable,” she says, her eyes darting about, desperate for this not to become a scene.

“
I’m
making everyone uncomfortable? You’re putting this on me?”

My mom’s face falls when my dad enters this debacle. “What’s going on?” he says cautiously, glancing around at the players. “Mark? What are you—”

“I invited him,” my mom says defensively.

My dad turns to her; his brows are crossed. “Why would you do that to Claire?”

I’m almost rendered speechless by my dad coming to my defense, but I manage to say, “I’ve tried for so long to make this right between us, Mom, accepted so much guilt and hurt from you, hoping and hoping that things would change . . . but, it’s never going to, is it? It’ll always be me over here, hoping for the impossible with you, and you over there, acting like judge and jury with every move I make. I will never understand you.”

“I should go,” Dan says, releasing me and walking away from the scene toward the front of the house.
No!

I turn to my mother. “Don’t ever call me or message me. Just leave me alone.” I run off to catch up with Dan. It’s freezing outside the tent, but I hardly notice. The sound of the party fades as I reach the huge oak tree in the front yard. I grab his hand to stop him. “Dan! Please don’t leave.”

He spins around, and I see his face is layered with anger, frustration, and sadness. “Your mother hates me so much she’d rather see you get back with a guy who left you at the altar, a guy who left you so fucking wounded you stayed away from the world for years, rather than ask about getting back with me if she thought we were apart?”

“I don’t know what she was thinking, and I’m so sorry. Mark, my mother—none of that in there should have happened.”

His hands are deep in his pockets; he’s keeping to himself and it scares me. “No, it shouldn’t have.”

“I told her not to contact me. I don’t want her in my life.”

He shakes his head, and although we stand only a few feet apart, there is a chasm separating us. “It’s not even her . . .” He seems so far away in thought.

“Let’s go back to my apartment. Just us. Alone. We can talk.” I stretch a hand toward him, but he makes no move to take mine.

“I don’t have time, plus, I need . . . ” He glances down and inhales deeply.

I’m frantic inside; bells and whistles are screaming in alarm. I’m so afraid that I’ve suddenly arrived at the end of the road with him. “I love you so much, Dan. I cannot imagine my life without you. I . . .”

There is a momentary softening in his expression—a flash of a grin, perhaps—but he remains mostly unmoved. “Look, Claire, there’s three weeks left on the contract, so before anything else happens, let’s just leave things be until the twenty-fourth when the contract’s over. No phone calls, no letters. Just radio silence. We’ll talk that night. I’ll leave a ticket for our last premiere that night in L.A. at David’s office.”

My stomach quivers with fear. I don’t want to lose him. “The one year anniversary of when we met,” I whisper under my breath.

“You remember?” he asks, surprised.

I nod with tears building fast. “Of course I do. You’re not the only one who counts time.”

He nods, then without a kiss, a hug, or anything, he walks across the lawn and into an awaiting cab. I cannot move, so I stand there, with my insides churning, my heart aching, and my mind distraught, wondering if the best thing that’s ever happened to me has just walked out of my life.