This Is Not How It Ends(11)

“Goose’ll be there,” he murmured in my ear.

“He’s back?”

“He is. He finished the restaurant.”

Morada Bay’s owner and executive chef left to open a high-end Dallas diner right before we dropped our anchor in the Keys, though he was part of the reason we’d come in the first place. Philip talked about him in a sincere tone that always struck me as out of place. They’d met in Manhattan years ago at one of Goose’s famous establishments. He was the closest thing Philip had to a friend. There were plenty of business associates. Clients. A team of lawyers on call for any legal tangling. But no one notable enough to warrant this kind of adoration. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees the woman who’s making an honest man out of me.”

“It sounds perfect,” I lied, yet pleased to see Philip so excited.

He kissed the top of my head. “Come join me in the washroom. We can help each other tidy up.” His throaty voice was subtle, sexy, and I hid my laugh.

“You can’t expect to seduce a lady with words like washroom and tidy.”

Sunny watched us from his cushion by the glass door while he simultaneously whimpered and chewed. “You fell rather mad for me in a washroom, I recall.” He was smiling into my eyes, and I felt myself thawing out. The morning was draining, and the idea of washing off the hospital germs enticed me, but there was more we needed to discuss.

“You can’t do this, Philip.”

He reached for me, but I pulled back. “You’re still mad?”

“I’m not mad . . . I’m frustrated.”

His expression changed. The absences were part of the deal, and I didn’t mind, not at first, not ever, until I sensed a shift in him, in me, in us. Philip was someone I really thought I could settle down with. Someone I could let in and love. Being away wasn’t the only problem. The last few times he was home, he spent the majority of his time on calls and preparing for meetings. This was the guy who couldn’t be in the same room without touching me. The shift left my mind to wander. Had Philip finally gotten bored with me? Was there someone else? Could the ring have been a mistake? The physical distance I could live with, I had lived with, but the emotional distance was something else. I couldn’t get him to connect.

I took a seat on one of our chrome-plated kitchen stools. “Did you even want to get married? Or did you think you had no choice?”

He turned away, avoiding my eyes.

“I take offense at that accusation, Charlotte. I recall your hesitance to get married. The exact words were . . .”

I held my palm up. “I know what I said . . . but you . . . It was different with you, Philip. At least I thought it could be different.”

“You told me you liked that I traveled. That it eased some of the pressure for you. It’s what gave you breathing space and freedom to . . .”

“Grow,” I whispered. It was enough for some time. And I grew. But we didn’t. Not Philip and me. Not as a couple.

“You women,” he exclaimed, leaving me as he headed for our bedroom and a warm shower. I followed him, the sounds of our feet shuffling against the polished floors. “You want, you don’t want. I can’t always follow you, Charlotte. You ask for one thing but want another.”

I didn’t know what I wanted, so I let him undress without making a move for my own clothes. His reflection in the bathroom mirror surprised me. The excess travel was taking its toll. He looked thinner than usual, and I told him.

“If I polish off dinner and dessert, can I get you to join me in the pool later?”

That was Philip. Everything was a joke. Everything too serious for him. In many ways, it was the balm for my inner sadness, but today it hurt, and I walked out of the bathroom, leaving him to shower without me.





CHAPTER 6

May 2016, Back Then

Kansas City, Missouri I left Philip in the restaurant’s bathroom.

Daniel and I sat in silence, side by side, while my mother had the single greatest birthday of her life. Philip told her dirty joke after dirty joke, and when dessert came, he made sure it was elaborate with an abundance of candles. When Mom closed her eyes and wished, I saw joy spread across her face. It sustained me while the longing to be somewhere alone with Philip nagged at me, his deep stare telling me he felt the same.

Daniel and I didn’t talk when we exited the restaurant. We said goodbye in the parking lot. It was abrupt and terribly awkward. Daniel knew before I did that I’d never see him again.

“That was interesting,” he had said, sullen and dejected. “Is it okay if I delete you from my contacts?”



I dropped my mother off at my childhood home and watched her skip up the driveway. She was so beautiful and happy. Her kiss on my cheek remained along with the special wish she said she made. “I can’t tell you what it is, or it won’t come true.”

Undressing for bed, I waited for the heat to rub off my body. My fair skin was glowing from Philip’s touch, compliments that had me restless.

My laptop sat open on the kitchen table, its reflection turning my cheeks a soft blue. My apartment was small, a studio, so in one short step I was seated at the table, typing his name into the Google toolbar.

Scrolling. Scrolling. Almost there, I stopped myself. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to fall for words and pictures that told another version of a story. I saw the word Manchester. I saw Private Equity, though I had no idea of the context in which it pertained to Philip’s career. And as soon as his picture came into focus on the screen, I shut the laptop.