Page 11 of I Saw Her First

I look between the two of them, cataloging the similarities. Both tall. Same cool blue eyes. Same chestnut hair, even though Weston’s is laced with silver.

God,Weston is Jesse’s dad. That makes him…Weston Abbott. I think back to how familiar Jesse seemed when I first met him. It’s no wonder I was attracted to him. He must have, on some level, reminded me of the guy from work I have a crush on.

I mean, had.Hada crush on. I’m not crushing on him anymore, now that I have a boyfriend. And I’mcertainlynot crushing on him now that I know he’s my boyfriend’s dad. That would be all kinds of wrong. Much like the things I’ve done while thinking of him, alone in the bathtub. I shudder at the thought.

“I…” I smooth my skirt, cringing. I can’t believe Weston just caught me making out with his son on his sofa.

“We know each other,” Weston says after what feels like an eternity.

Jesse’s expression darkens. “How?”

“Your dad comes into my work every day,” I explain, deciding to leave out the part about how he’s my favorite customer, how I’ve spent every day of the past year trying to make him smile. “We… chat sometimes.”

Weston’s gaze bores into mine for a long moment, and I shift my weight. We both know that’s a very simplified version of things, especially lately. Because lately, I’ve felt a shift between us that I haven’t been able to put my finger on. We’ve gone from talking about benign things like the weather, to asking how the other is, and answering more and more honestly. But, I’m ashamed to admit, we’ve both left out important parts of our lives. I never talked about Jesse, and he never spoke of his wife.

Well, that’s going to have to change now, isn’t it?

“I thought you were working late?” Jesse grumbles.

Weston lets out a long breath, tearing his gaze from mine as he loosens his tie. “My meeting finished early. I should be allowed to come home to my own house, Jess.”

Just like that, the tension between them pulls taut. I let out a faint laugh, desperate to lighten the mood.

“Of course you are,” I say, nudging Jesse. “Right?”

Jesse glances at me sullenly. “Right,” he mutters.

I turn back to Weston, forcing a bright smile. “Is your wife working late too?”

An icy chill falls over the room, and Jesse stiffens beside me. Weston gives me an odd look before glancing at his son in disbelief. Finally, he turns back to me and sighs.

“My wife… Jesse’s mom… died three years ago.”

Shewhat? I look at Jesse in shock. His jaw is hard as he stares at the floor, refusing to meet my gaze. His momdied? How could he not tell me that?

But… No, he said his mom recommended the restaurant he took me to on our first date, and he said other things about her, too. Though it’s only just occurring to me now that they were things that happened in the past. He never spoke of her in the past tense, though. Almost like…

Like he didn’t want to admit she was gone.

I take in Jesse’s slumped shoulders, think of the trouble he’s had getting along with his father—with Weston—and yet he’s been able to laugh and be so sweet with me. My heart squeezes.

“I… I’m so sorry to hear that,” I murmur at last.

I turn back to Weston, and before I can stop it, my gaze falls to the ring on his left hand. I think of how different he was when he first started coming to Joe’s last year, how he never smiled. How it took me ages to get him to even make eye contact with me, how over the past year he’s been slowly warming up and laughing more until it felt like he almost came back to life. I don’t know what I’d been assuming. That maybe he’d been in a bad marriage? That he was unhappy at home? Whatever it was, I was way off the mark.

Because he’s not married, I realize. He’s grieving for his wife.

I thought I knew both men, albeit under totally different circumstances, but now I wonder what it was I thought I knew.Why does Jesse hate his dad so much? I can’t fathom how the sweet man who chats with me every morning could possibly be as terrible as Jesse makes him out to be, but what do I know about him really? What do I know about either of them?

I back away, shaking my head. It suddenly feels like I’m intruding on an extremely personal family moment, and I’d rather be anywhere but here.

“I should… I should go.”

“What?” Jesse glances at me before shooting an angry look at his dad.

“No, Daisy.” Weston heaves a weary sigh. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Yeah, no…” My head is reeling with this new information. It’s too much to take in. Weston is Jesse’s father. His wife—Jesse’s mom—passed away not that long ago. And these two, for reasons I don’t understand, can’t seem to stand each other.

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