Page 39 of My Puckin' Luck
“It doesn’t have to be like that.”
“Really? Because from my viewpoint, all I see is Lilah blocking my path to your heart.”
He slumps back down into the chair like he’d fall if he doesn’t. Like my words have pinned him down right at the soul of it. He makes no effort to deny it, either. He reaches for the rabbit’s foot and rubs it absentmindedly, like another appendage to his body.
“She gave that to you, didn’t she?”
He nods. Sitting there like he is, he’s a sad man who can’t see who he’s losing. Me. And everything becomes clear. I’m not strong enough to force him to change.
He’s not strong enough to prove to me he can put the past behind and stay with me. I doubt he ever will be. But with the clock ticking, I have an event tonight that means so much to me, and he doesn’t seem to care.
“It’s perfectly fine if you need to stay here and…deal with things. Nana and I have been planning to attend this premier together for some time. So it can be just a girls’ night.” I add a weak smile on the end for mild reassurance.
“Are you sure? I guess I have had too much to drink.”
He didn’t want me there with him by his side supporting him; he doesn’t want to be there tonight supporting me. Maybe I don’t want him there, either.
“Of course. We’ll talk when I get back.” I make haste for the porthole and leave him be, not giving him any room to change my mind.
I hurry to change, while the car with Nana arrives and waits outside. The entire drive to the theater, I fight the tears, trying to keep my makeup intact. Abandoned again, by yet another man. Saint leaves me on my special night that could mean everything to my career, only to brood over a day that ruined him.
While I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished, I had my heart set on celebrating with the people who mean the most to me. Without Misty here, I at least have Nana. And since Saint came into the picture, I thought I had him, too. Only I didn’t, and that’s clear now.
He’s at home, keeping company with his ghosts. They’ll never go away, will they? Saint will never be all mine when there’s a memory tucked away inside of his heart, a lost love keeping him tethered to the past.
This isn’t something I can easily reconcile. This is more than pure jealousy. A trigger for every hurt the little girl inside of me has experienced when my father neglected me.
Why do I bother to put myself through this again, when men have proven that I can never be their sole object of attention forever? I should have known from the start that this would happen with Saint.
No, I won’t cry now. I’ll be strong and get through this night. Later, when I’m alone somewhere, I’ll break down and let it all out.
On the red carpet with Nana, I try to channel my inner Barbara St. James. I prove quite the actress, smiling, dazzling, no one the wiser that inside I’m dying, thinking only of Saint.
In the theater lobby, we’re served champagne and find a corner to stand and observe the people who are quickly filling the room. Nana proposes a toast. “To you, my dear. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
I drop the act for a millisecond, my smile thinning to a straight line. She doesn’t miss a thing, even removing her glasses and leaning in to study my face.
“Something is wrong. Tell me.” Her sweet old eyes roam my face with worry, she knows me so well. She’s been like a stand-in for my mother since college, always there to talk with when things got rough, or to visit and cry over a plate of her warm, freshly baked cookies.
As good as a cookie would sound about now, my stomach is in knots.
“I think Saint and I are through. He’s stuck in the past and I’m not enough to hold him in the present.” I admit in a tiny, wobbly voice, fighting back the tears. On a deep inhale, I blinkand turn my eyes up to the crystal chandelier, trying to count the number of glass prisms there as a distraction.
“Oh, my dear.” She hugs me with warm and inviting arms, like that’s all I’d need to brush my cares away. If only. “I have high hopes for the two of you, but I know loving a man with a complicated past can’t be easy.”
Grateful for the hug, I step back out of it and dab my eyes and steady my breathing before I’m a complete mess. “I found him nearly passed out before I left. Turns out, this was the anniversary day of the accident of his wife and child. And what did I do? I got all in my head about it, so distraught, I left him there. All I could think about was how he was letting me down, not being here tonight, just like all the other men in my life.”
“Search your heart, honey. Is he really like those other men? Or is he just a human being, grieving over a loss? Sometimes people need a gentle hand to guide them back to the present. If he’s worth it and treats you well and is trying, do you think with time, with your care and patience, you can remind him of what he has right now with you?”
“I don’t know. But you could be right, Nana. I left him there to wallow in his self-pity. Why didn’t I at least hug him and assure him it was okay? Why didn’t I let him know how much my heart was breaking for him now that the truth was finally out or thank him for finally letting me in? Oh God, what kind of girlfriend does that make me? Where was my compassion? Am I a horrible person?” I face the wall, set my drink on a side table there, and try to catch every tear before it ruins my makeup or anyone else sees.
“No, you’re not.” She rubs my back so soothing. “You’re just a woman trying to guard her heart, and he’s a man guarding his. So you two have a bit of a battle ahead of you. The question is, will this love growing between you be worth fighting for?”
Nana amazes me. So wise in her years. With any luck, I could be that wise in my grand old age.
Luck… I think about the rabbit’s foot Saint always carries. How much it must have meant to him that Lilah gave it to him, to hold on to the constant reminder of her in his pocket. The poor girl, gone so long ago, only a memory. And a child, too? It is truly heartbreaking, and here I am trying to shove them out of his life?
If he lets me, I could be the rock by his side and visit the cemetery with him. Listen to him when he wants to talk about her. We could seek counseling, which he probably needs. Has he ever talked to someone about his grief?
