Page 72 of Pervade Montego Bay
It dawned on me that, had Louis stepped into the garden, he’d have caught us going at it.
“I hear you’re a talented violinist, Emily,” said Louis.
Xavier nodded. “She is.”
The three men swapped wary glances.
Louis raised the bag in his hand. “I brought mangos, fresh from the garden. Great for making margaritas.”
Glancing from one man to the other, I detected the awkwardness between them and a sinking feeling settled in my gut.
“Emily.” James gave a nod toward the door.
“I’ll get dressed,” I said. “It was lovely to meet you, Louis.” I hurried out, trying to get a read on the uncomfortable silence.
Pausing briefly in the hallway, I strained to hear their conversation, hoping to find out what was going on between them. I knew it was wrong, but there’d been something intense in the way James and Xavier and Louis had interacted without words.
Louis’ quiet voice reached my ears. “She’s quite lovely.”
“In more ways than one,” said James.
“I’m sorry,” added Louis. “I just wanted to check on Xavier.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” James whispered.
“I know.” Louis sounded sad.
“Thank you for the mangos,” Xavier piped up. “I’ll make cocktails.”
“Are you still coming to my charity event?” asked Louis.
“Of course,” James replied, his tone kind.
“Emily is very young, James.”
“She’s with Xavier.”
“Right.” Louis’ tone revealed his skepticism.
“I’ll walk you part of the way back,” said James. “Give you some company on the way home.”
Quickly, I turned the corner to avoid being seen.
James
Standing in my bedroom, I clutched Victoria’s silver framed photo to my chest, allowing memories of our happiest times to flood my mind.
God, I miss you.
I miss everything about you.
I miss us.
Grief could only be held at bay for so long, the loss of her threading its way through every sinew of my being. It hit me like a punch to the chest, as visceral as the day I’d walked into the ICU and seen my wife unconscious, hooked to numerous tubes, her face unrecognizable.
Don’t fucking do it.
Don’t go there…
