Fake Dark Vows

4

“I miss her so much,” I say as the first tear trickles down my cheek. I catch it on the tip of my tongue and sniff loudly.

“I know.” Jess nods. “You did everything you could for her, Rose. Your mom knew how much you loved her. You even dropped out of college to care for her.”

“So, why do I feel so guilty?” I shake my head, swallow a larger mouthful of wine to blur the edges of what’s going on in my head. But still the same old emotions drag up from somewhere deep inside like water being drawn from a well.

You go through life smiling at people, trying your best to be a good person, to be kind and thoughtful and compassionate, and it works. At least on the surface. No one sees what’s going on beneath the bright smile because they have their own stuff to deal with, and that’s okay. It’s how it should be.

So, you keep going, tell yourself that you’re coping, that finally, you’ve moved on from grief and guilt and loneliness, and then one glass of wine and wham! It all comes flooding back.

“She never got over it,” I murmur. Jess has heard this all before, but she’s the kind of friend who listens and doesn’t tell me to let it go and move on.

“It isn’t something you ever really get over, Rose, losing a baby. But you know what, your parents doted on the baby they did have—you! They poured double the amount of love into you, which makes you a very lucky person.”

The bartender slides Jess’s drink across the bar towards her, and she flashes him a grateful smile. He looks at my almost empty glass, raises an eyebrow, and I down it in one. He pours another without prompting.

He’s good looking, dark hair, olive skin, high cheekbones, the kind of guy I’d be attracted to if my heart was in it. I turn around to face the room which is still filling up.

It’s early evening. The place will be busy later, and that will be my cue to leave.

It isn’t that I don’t like crowds, I’m just out of touch with partying since Mom died and everything started sliding downhill. Robbie. My career. Marriage. Jess says it’s because the universe is picking up on my negative energy, and maybe she’s right, but I can’t seem to drag myself out of it, and the bad news just keeps on coming.

“There she is!”

Jess points out her cousin Mindy who has just stepped through the doorway looking fabulous in an emerald-green pantsuit and strappy silver heels. Like Jess, she’s tall and athletic with long raven-black curls that tumble over her shoulders and turn heads wherever she goes.

Even so, I’m not looking at her. I’m looking at the couple walking in behind her, holding hands, the huge diamond on the woman’s wedding ring finger casting light signals around the room.

Robbie and his new fiancée.

I’d seen the engagement on our mutual friends’ social media posts, but I’d buried that one deep too; in a city this size, you can go through life without ever bumping into someone you want to avoid.

“Rose?” Jess’s voice penetrates my thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It’s the standard response that spills out with minimal effort.

I have no right to feel jealous or bitter or any other kind of emotion now that Robbie has moved on with his life. I was the one who called off our engagement. There was too much going on at the time—my mom was sick, my grades were falling in college, Dad was a mess—at least that’s what I told Robbie. The truth was, we’d been together since high school, and I always felt like something was missing, like I wasn’t ready for marriage and kids and a home of our own. So, I handed back the ring and walked away.

I’ve spent the last few years convincing myself that I did what was right for me at the time, that I wanted all those things, but not with Robbie. Only now, I’m not so sure.

Blurry eyed with tears, I slide off my stool—I need to get away before Robbie spots me. My elbow connects with a glass. I gasp and hold my breath, watching the scene behind me play out in Jess’s eyes and the way she flinches.

I whirl around, an apology on my lips, and realize that I’m face to face with the man in the gray suit from Dad’s workplace.

Mr. Weiss.

He’s still wearing the same clothes, but instead of mucky fingerprints, the front of his jacket is now wet and turning the same shade of red as the wine that was in his glass a moment ago. Recognition dances across his features.

“Do you ever watch where you’re going?” I ask.

“Where I’m going?” He holds the glass away from him as if preventing the final few drips from landing on his jacket might somehow save it from being irreparably damaged.

Jess steps in and grabs my arm. “What my friend meant to say is she’s sorry. She’ll pay for your jacket to be dry-cleaned.” She waggles her fingers in the general direction of his chest.

“That isn’t what I meant.” I straighten, facing him squarely.

Twice in one day—how is that even possible? Until this morning, I didn’t even know this guy existed, and now he’s everywhere, like a bad smell that refuses to blow away even when the windows are opened.

“This is the guy I was telling you about,” I say, “the one who knocked Izzie over this morning.”

“Okay.” His jawline juts like he owns the place. Maybe he does own the place—it would just about sum up my luck right now. “Firstly, I didn’t knock Izzie over this morning, she ran into me.”

Jess is still clinging to my arm, but now she’s watching him carefully, her expression unfathomable.

“Secondly, the kid shouldn’t have even been inside the building.”

Jess’s eyebrows almost slide into her hairline, and I swallow the hysterical laughter that’s threatening to spill out of my chest. I’ve seen that look before, and I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of it, especially where it concerns Izzie. She’s daring him to keep going.

And he does. “Thirdly, the suit is ruined, and I doubt she could afford to replace it, although I’m tempted to have another one made and send her the bill.”

“Let’s go,” I say to Jess, turning around to leave. “It’s not worth it.”

Jess doesn’t take her eyes off Mr. Weiss. When she speaks, her tone is cold. “Firstly, the kid, Izzie, you know the one who ran into you this morning, is mine. Secondly, if there’s no sign on the front door saying NO CHILDREN ALLOWED, then she has as much right to be in that building as the next person.”

“BEWARE THE OWNER would be more appropriate,” I mutter under my breath.

“And thirdly…” Jess hesitates, a smile tugging the corners of her lips. “You should try buying washable suits, it makes life a lot easier.”

I suck my lips in to smother my smile. I bet Mr. Weiss wishes he’d chosen any other bar to walk into tonight but this one.