Mistakes Were Made

Chapter 1Gael Moore slowly spun the whiskey tumbler on the bar. The dark mahogany was spotless, the vintage leather bar stools surprisingly comfortable, and the dim yellow light from the crystal chandeliers created an almost magical atmosphere. He sighed. The bartender, a young man in a black vest and a bow tie, gave him a quick smile. He didn’t think it was a come-on, but there was some warmth in his gaze. “Dad.” Hazel slid up on the stool next to him. The bartender was there in an instant, but she declined with a head shake. “Hi, pumpkin. How are you holding up?” She gave him a baffled look. “Excited but tired. We’re heading to our hotel to sleep as soon as David gets back.” Gael looked around. The bar was mostly deserted. “Where is he?” “Getting Daddy from the train station.” There was a surge in the pit of Gael’s stomach at the mention of Ethan, but Hazel kept talking as if a sinkhole hadn’t opened up in his core. Maybe he should’ve prepared for his insides crumbling. He’d known Ethan would be here. The plan was for him to walk Hazel down the aisle after all, but he hadn’t believed he’d have to face him until tomorrow. “His car broke down, but he got hold of a last-minute ticket. It’s taken all day though, several changes of train, and there was one part of the trip where he had to go with a replacement bus because there was some trouble with the electricity.” She huffed. “We figured it best one of us were there to pick him up when he arrived, so there would be no more complications.” “Right.” “I bet he’s exhausted, poor thing.” She grinned at him. Had she ever said poor thing about him? He didn’t think so. “Hey, why didn’t you offer him a ride?” “What?” Gael hadn’t been alone with Ethan since he’d walked out of the house seven years ago. He could still remember the stunned look on Ethan’s face. Would dream about it and wake up in a cold sweat. He’d hoped for anger, had been prepared for tears, but not utter shock. He should have been. “Since Mr. I-always-knew-I’d-marry-a-doctor isn’t here, you could’ve carpooled with Daddy, saved him the trouble of going by train.” “How was I to know his car would break down?” He didn’t know what kind of car Ethan drove. Ethan had never been one to spend money on things like cars, so maybe he should’ve predicted car troubles. She rolled her eyes. “No one could, I’m only saying you live in the same town. It’s not hard to pick up the phone and ask if you’re gonna carpool to the wedding. You knew he’d be here.” “I assumed he’d go with Lisa.” He hadn’t. He hadn’t spared a thought to how Ethan would get there. His entire focus had been on seeing Ethan again, and how he should act when he did. “No, she came directly from some conference or something.” “Hey, kiddo, there is still time to get out.” Her frown was instant, and maybe it hadn’t been the smoothest change of topic. “Get out of what?” He weighed his words. Maybe she needed to hear there was still an out. “Are you sure you want to get married? You’re still young, and—” “Unbelievable.” She straightened, and for a moment he was sure she’d slide off the stool and stomp off. He remembered a lot of stomping from when she’d been a teen. She looked straight into his eyes. “Don’t you like David?” “David is great.” He was. Gael hadn’t spent a lot of time with him, but from what he could tell, he treated Hazel with respect, and he was always polite. “I only meant you don’t have to marry the first man who asks.” Her dark eyes turned to flint. “I asked him.” Gael held in a wince. f**k, he knew that. They’d told the story. She had asked Ethan to bake a cake decorated with things representing special moments from their relationship. He’d seen the photos. On the sides, there had been beautiful images of dates and trips and hearts and most likely a million details he’d missed. On the top, there had been flowers so real-looking Gael had asked about them when she’d shown the pictures on her phone. They hadn’t been real. Ethan had made them. Then she’d brought the cake to the beach, where she’d spread a picnic blanket on the sand and served champagne. As the sun set, she gave the cake box to David. “Right, the cake.” It was cute. Way more romantic than when he and Ethan had decided to get married. They’d gone to the courthouse as soon as same-s*x marriages had been legalized. They’d had a civil union before then. Ethan wanted children. It was his life-long dream, to be a father, so they’d done all the legal s**t. Gael had signed all papers, had agreed to all unions and whatnot to make it happen. Ethan had dreamed about a large family, and the plan had always been to have more than one child, but when he brought it up a couple of years after they’d adopted Hazel, Gael had been too busy at work. He’d kept telling Ethan they would talk about it later, but when one year bled into two, Ethan had stopped asking. Gael had to look away for a moment. “Yes, the cake.” Her tone was clipped. “Honey.” He took her hand. “David seems like a great guy, but I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.” He’d like to call the sound coming from her a shriek, but it was low enough not to earn more than a glance from the bartender, so maybe there was a better word for it. “Not likely, Dad.” The Dad was dripping with contempt. “I’m not easily manipulated by flattery or distracted by gold-digging sluts.” She pushed away and almost collided with Jamie. She caught herself in time and stared at him, then she scoffed before walking away without another word. “Nerves?” Jamie closed the distance between them and kissed him. Gael leaned away before it could turn into more than a chaste peck. “Hi. Did you get here now?” “Yup.” He dropped a bag on the floor and motioned for the bartender. “An appletini, please.” Then he turned to Gael. “Do we put it on our room or am I paying now?” Our room? “Eh…we have separate rooms.” Jamie pouted. “Why? Is it Hazel? I’m sure we can have it changed.” “No, I…thought it best.” He’d been with Jamie when the wedding invitation had arrived in the mail, so he’d RSVP’d, saying he and Jamie would come, but they’d been broken up for a couple of months now. He’d invited him to come along since they still were friendly toward each other—Jamie more than him—and he didn’t want to have to face tomorrow alone. Yes, he was a coward. Jamie frowned at him. “Why?” This time the why was a bit more exasperated. “Jamie, we’re not—” “Then why did you ask me to come?” Oops, there was a little more hostility there than he’d been prepared for. “We’re still friends, aren’t we?” Those green eyes that first had caught his attention widened. “Friends? Have we ever been friends, Gael? I was someone you f****d when you were bored.” Maybe friends was the wrong word. Jamie was a good deal younger than he was, and they didn’t share many interests, and Gael didn’t have the energy for his buddies. He was pretty sure Jamie had only dated him because he was a doctor—telling Hazel he’d marry a doctor the first and only time he’d met her had clued him in. s**t, maybe this had been a bad idea. “We get along.” Jamie groaned and motioned for the bartender again. “Can I have a shot of tequila too, please?” Gael looked over his shoulder and spotted David walking toward the bar. Behind him, he caught sight of broad shoulders and brown hair that would curl around the ears when damp. Ethan. Self-consciously, Gael ran a hand over his own hair. It had turned significantly grayer over the last few years. The sound of Jamie’s shot glass hitting the bar had him glance away from Ethan. “Okay, give me the script. Am I here to piss off the ex or what?” Gael’s gaze wandered back to the lobby, hoping Ethan wouldn’t see him, but wanting to catch a glance of his face. He was mostly obscured behind a huge Swiss Cheese plant. He was hugging Hazel, wrapping an arm around her shoulders once the hug ended, and walking toward the front desk. When he disappeared from view, Gael focused on Jamie again. “What?” “The ex?” Which ex? He was saved from having to answer by David reaching them. “Evening.” He nodded at them both. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it, Jamie.” “Why wouldn’t I?” He sounded like a belligerent child, and Gael didn’t think it had anything to do with David. “David.” Gael smiled and clapped his shoulder. “All good?” “Yeah, poor Ethan was worried he wouldn’t make it. Luckily, the cake is already here.” David grinned and motioned to the bartender who poured him a beer. “Ethan made the cake?” Of course, he had. No pastry chef would pass on the opportunity of making their only daughter’s wedding cake. It was most likely his wedding gift to them. Ethan didn’t come from money, and getting rich had never been something he’d been interested in. When he’d first told Gael he wanted to be a stay-at-home dad, Gael had believed he was joking. Who’d want to go from two incomes to one? When Gael had pointed out the economic consequences, Ethan had stared at him in confusion. Then he’d asked if Gael had wanted to be the one who stayed at home with Hazel. The question had thrown him. He’d figured daycare or maybe a nanny was the answer. But no. And Gael made more than enough to support a family, so it wasn’t a real problem. Even back then when he earned way less than he did now, they hadn’t lacked anything. Not a thing. He shook his head to rid it of unwanted memories. “Yes. He refuses to tell us what it looks like, and we’re forbidden to peek.” David smiled. “Hazel cried when he said he’d make us one. He came over and asked us how many tiers we wanted.” It was a two-hour drive to where Hazel and David lived. One way. “I believe the number of tiers depends on how many guests you have.” Jamie leaned forward to be able to see David on the other side of Gael. David shrugged. “I don’t think Ethan cares. If Hazel had said seven tiers, he’d have made seven tiers.” “So how many will there be?” Gael didn’t care. Ethan’s cakes were breathtaking, but the point of the wedding wasn’t the cake, was it? “No idea. Hazel told him he could do whatever he wanted.” Jamie looked between them. “Does he bake a lot?” David grinned. “Yeah.” Then he took a swallow of his beer. “Are you all set? No problems with the rooms?” “I haven’t grabbed my key yet.” Jamie gave Gael a non-too-subtle glare, which David pretended not to see. “I better go check on Hazel.” David drained half the glass. “Isn’t this the night for a bachelor party, strip clubs, and other escapades?” Jamie waved his empty shot glass at the bartender, indicating he wanted another. “No, no bachelor party. I wouldn’t want to be hungover tomorrow, and there is only one woman I want to watch take her clothes—” “As her father, I beg you not to finish that sentence.” David chuckled, took one more swallow of the beer, and left the glass on the bar with a couple of inches still left. “See you tomorrow, gentlemen.” * * * * “He’s such an ass!” Hazel threw herself at Ethan. He hardly had time to drop his bag before her arms wound around his neck. He briefly met David’s gaze over her head. “Who is, honey?” “Dad.” She didn’t lift her face from the crook of his neck, and he grimaced at David, who looked around and then veered off toward the bar. “Don’t say that.” Gael was here? He did his best not to look around. “What happened?” He rubbed her back, but it only made her cling to him harder. “He said he didn’t want me to make the same mistake he had, and I didn’t have to marry David.” Ethan suppressed a wince. Gael believed their marriage was a mistake?