“I know. And I was—am—a fool for lousing it all up again and again,” he said in a quivering voice. “I mean it. If you give me one more chance to make it up to you . . .” He squeezed her hand.
Sighing heavily as if trying to sigh away the frustration, Joy released her hand from his. “I don’t know if I can, Tony. I won’t be a rebound.”
“You won’t be.” He leaned in close, rain dripping off his chin.
“And I won’t give up my life for yours like I did before.” Joy jerked away from him.
“I understand.” Tony stepped back. “I won’t ask you to.”
Wringing her hands, Joy turned to leave. “I need time to think about it.”
“All right,” he replied. “I’m here until Friday.”
Thunder echoed across the sky.
“Good night.” Joy straightened and walked off with confidence in her stride.
Don’t turn around, she said to herself. Just keep walking.
Joy made her way toward her hotel with something flowing through her she hadn’t enjoyed in a long time.
Satisfaction.
CHAPTER 8
At the hotel, Joy wiped the rain off her face and lumbered toward the elevator.
Her phone vibrated, so she removed it, expecting it to be Jaime asking for an update.
What am I going to tell her? Joy exhaled. She was so hoping things would work out between—
But it wasn’t Jaime. It was a text from Tony. He had shared a playlist with her.
“Songs we danced to,” Joy read. When she opened the link, songs from the 80s appeared on Spotify.
The list of familiar songs made her smile. She couldn’t help it.
The elevator door opened, and Joy walked to her room, scrolling through the list. Each song brought back happy memories of her high school days.
Inside her room, Joy played the first song, “Crazy for You” by Madonna. It was the song she and Tony danced to in the gymnasium.
She sat on the bed and listened to the words. On her wedding day, the butterflies in her stomach had almost made her sick.
“Is God trying to tell me something, Momma?” she asked, gripping her belly that day. “Am I making a mistake marrying Tony?”
Her mother held her hands. “Joy, only you can answer that question.”
But Joy simply shook her head and stared at herself in the mirror. A vision in white satin and lace.
“Do you love him?” Her mother stepped behind her and placed her white-gloved hands on Joy’s shoulders.
“Yes, Momma. I do. More than anything.”
“It’s just nerves, Joy,” her mother had said. “You and Tony are perfect for each other. He’s a good man. He’ll earn a good living for you and provide a lovely home for you.”
Joy faced her mother and smiled.
She was right. Joy chuckled. He did all that and more. Setting aside her phone on the nightstand, Joy slipped off her wet shoes and changed into her pajamas. Could they start again here in Venice?
Joy washed her face and brushed her teeth, listening to the songs play on her phone. With each one, she could picture herself at football games, dances, riding in cars with her friends, studying in her room for tests.
As she turned down her bed, Joy remembered how her mother had married for security and not love. They did have a big house and money, but Joy struggled to remember love in the home.
But she and Tony did have love in the home. Could she be that woman who could take an unfaithful man back? Joy climbed into bed and stopped playing the songs. Opening her journal, she decided to write down her thoughts.
Pain.
Heartbreak.
Anxiety.
I felt all those things when Tony left me. Nothing but a big wreck of a woman lying in bed in his wake. That’s what he left behind.
Joy looked up from her journal, remembering.
Can I go back to trusting him again after all that? Now that I’ve found myself, I don’t want to risk losing myself again. I don’t want to be like my mother and only marry for security. Am I that type of woman? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, but is it for me?
She sighed, staring at the pen in her hand. But Jaime . . .
