Page 92 of Rebound
“It’s not going to be this easy to win me over,” he says. “You forget I spent years on a time with your father and the last thing I want is for my daughter to be married to his son.”
I laugh humorlessly. “On that we can agree. I know you don’t trust me, but I hope I can make you believe one day that I’mnothing like my father. Lavinia’s never going to be in the same room as him, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
Mr. C considers my words carefully. “That’s not something you can guarantee.”
“Dad,” Lavinia pleads. This time, I squeeze her hand in reassurance.
“Let me rephrase it. Lavinia will never be in his presence as long as she’s with me because I don’t want to be anywhere near him.”
“I think that’s enough for now. Don’t you?” Dr. C turns to her husband and the look in her eyes clearly says that he’s going to agree with her or he’s going to be in big trouble. “The poor boy doesn’t even have a drink, and you’ve put him through the wringer, on a holiday, no less.”
“It’s time for dinner anyway,” Vin’s other grandmother says. “We’re going to need a lot more alcohol.”
Slowly, they file out of the room until only Jules and Drew are left behind with Lavinia and me.
“Honestly, I didn’t think you had it in you, OfLavinia,” Jules says. “Color me impressed.”
Drew glares at me as he walks out, without saying a word.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Lavinia whispers. There’s a troubled look in her eyes that I hate seeing. I lean down and press my lips to the furrow between her brows.
“Don’t be sorry, baby. Your family hates me because they love you.”
Lavinia rests her cheek on my shoulder. “You’re so hopeful, I almost don’t want to take you to the dining room.”
She has no idea that I’ll put up with worse things for her. I spent two years watching her with Josh, knowing every second that motherfucker didn’t deserve her. I used to lie awake at night wondering about all the things I’d risk for her if only she gave me some indication that she wasn’t happy with Josh. Having dinnerwith her family, with people who love her and want to protect her, is a walk in the park.
Dinner goes betterthan I expect. I’m mostly ignored by everyone, except for the odd question here and there. I can easily see where the family’s divided on how they feel about me.
I hoped to feel a twinge of guilt for deceiving them, though sitting next to Lavinia and watching her talk animatedly with Aunt Constance and Jules, I didn't feel deception.
I’ve wanted Lavinia for so long, watched her from afar as she shined like a star and watched her date men who didn’t deserve her. I let myself believe that it’d never be me because I burned that bridge and there was no going back to something that I never even gave a chance to.
Then Lavinia turns around and smiles at me or squeezes my hand or my thigh under the table, picks the peas off my plate because I’m not eating them.
When have I ever faked what I feel for this woman? I want her like a dying man wants one last breath. I want to hope, and I keep stamping it down because hoping never gets anyone anywhere. The only way to get what you want is to do whatever it takes to get it.
After dinner, everyone helps clean up the table before moving to the living room. I bring the last of the dishes into the kitchen and find myself alone with Dr. Callahan. Lavinia looks like her mother, except Dr. Callahan’s hair is a darker shade of red and she wears glasses. She’s at the kitchen sink and looks over her shoulder when I walk in.
“You can put those down here. Aiden will come in later to clean everything up,” she says with a smile.
I set the dishes on the counter next to the sink. “Mr. C does the dishes?”
“Of course. If I cook, he cleans, if he cooks, I clean, which is majority of the time because only one of us is retired.”
I can’t remember a single moment in my life when my father willingly entered the kitchen to do anything. Asher Maddox is who people talk about when they think of toxic masculinity. He has a lot of shit to say about my mother’s cooking abilities but wouldn’t know the difference between tarragon and cinnamon.
I don’t want to sit in the living room, so I stay and help Dr. C pack up the leftovers.
“I always thought you were a sweet boy, Roman,” she says, “if a bit of a troublemaker.”
I keep my eyes focused on the mashed potatoes I’m transferring to three different containers. “Thank you, Dr. Callahan.”
“You can call me Melanie. We’re family now.”
I blink down at the food. “I’m not sure I know how to be a part of a family.” The words are honest and raw, and I don’t think before saying them. They leave my mouth and hang in the air between us.
From the corner of my eye, I see Dr. Callahan—Melanie—turn to look at me. She has the same clear, guileless eyes as Lavinia that make me want to spill all my secrets. “Well, this is a family.” She waves her hand towards the living room.
