17. Theo

17

THEO

Bonnie stands on my toes as we sway side to side to a Taylor Swift song she knows all the words to. Of course, I know them too, but I haven't embraced this side of me out in the open yet.

"Oh, time for a spin!" I exclaim, lifting her arm and twirling her.

Bonnie screams out and spins, her dress splaying out in all directions.

I pull her back toward me, and she lands with a thud against my belly. "All right, I think it's time for a break, don't you, love? Go have some sweets or something?"

Bonnie bounces on her tiptoes. "Let's dance with Abigail!"

"What?"

"I'll go get her!"

Before I can react, Bonnie darts through the guests and off the dance floor. She must have some sort of Abigail sensor, because she spots her almost immediately and runs in her direction.

To my chagrin, she's standing with Edwin. He seems to be circling whenever I see her. Perhaps it's a plan to keep us both honest, to which I say, "Smart girl."

And also, "Bugger that."

I've been keeping my distance. Staying far away. Ignoring the burn inside me. It was too close a call last night to try and cross the line again. However, when Bonnie is involved, being around Abigail is less suspect.

I wind through people, making apologies for my overzealous daughter, and go over to where Bonnie has cornered Abigail across the beach.

The sunset plays overhead, plenty of pinks and oranges coating the sky, paling in beauty compared to Abigail.

It is not fair, I think. That I have been forced all afternoon and evening to watch Abigail from afar in her flowing, gray blue gown. The fabric cascades down her figure, cradling her hips and breasts the way I'd like to with my hands.

The entire time since I've arrived in Florida, I've wished I was back in the UK. Or New York. At least then Abigail wasn't close. Here, she is close, and I cannot have her but in fleeting moments.

When I reach them, Bonnie is tugging on Abigail's hand. "Come dance, come dance, come dance!"

"This song is kind of slow! Let's wait for a fun one," Abigail replies.

"Please! Please, please, please!"

"Bonnie, you know what we have to do when people say no." I give her a stern look.

Edwin chuckles behind his hand. "Kids."

Bonnie looks up at me with a furrowed brow and instead of giving me my answer like I expect, she grabs my hand and places it in Abigail's. "You two dance!"

My mouth falls open. "Oh!"

Abigail's hand flinches out of mine. "Bonnie, I promise, later, we'll dance la–"

"No, you two go. No need to upset the queen," Edwin says with a wink in my direction.

God, is he really so oblivious that he's pushing Abigail and me together without even realizing?

"Bonnie, how about you and I go check out the chocolate fountain?" Edwin asks Bonnie.

She waves her hands in the air excitedly. "Yes, please !"

Edwin takes her hand with a broad grin. "What do you think, Dory? We'll trade for a little bit, hm?"

If only he knew how sick that makes me feel. "A little bit."

Bonnie skips off, tugging Edwin along, leaving Abigail and me in a silence only interrupted by the melodic voice of Eric Clapton.

"Well, we shouldn't disappoint him, should we?" I offer my hand again.

Abigail eyes my hand. "I suppose not."

When she takes it, her face hardens more. There isn't any joy in it, the joy I've grown used to. Her touch has become something I crave, but I've also come to crave the way she responds to mine.

However, now she is calculated and distant.

I cannot blame her for being cautious.

We were risky last night. Bloody hell, Bonnie was asleep in my arms when she snagged that kiss. Everything could have fallen apart in an instant.

It didn't. And that's what matters.

One dance won't hurt us. Two family friends engaged in an elegant sway to a Clapton song is nothing.

Nothing at all.

I guide Abigail back to the dance floor, strike the usual dancing form, keeping a respectable distance between our chests and begin to lead her in a compulsory sway.

Abigail says nothing. She avoids my gaze altogether.

What's the matter with her?

I wet my lips to speak. "I've wanted to tell you…the dress suits you."

Her lips perk up.

"Not like other bridesmaids dresses that seem to be punishments rather than enhancements," I go on.

Abigail's smile turns into a giggle. "Thanks to Bridget. She has an eye for that sort of thing."

I shift my hand on the small of her back, tightening the waterlike fabric in my palm.

She moves closer to me. A micromovement. But she does not resist.

"Yes, they make a beautiful couple. Bridget and Seth."

"They do. Stepsibling-ness aside."

I chuckle. "Your family and friends certainly find love in strange places."

Abigail's nose scrunches, her freckles clumping together. "It feels like just yesterday I was advising her to stay away from you when in reality I had nothing to be worried about."

"Yes, Seth staked his claim clearly if I remember correctly." I glance upward at the sky, narrowing my eyes. "Sonia had nice taste in bridesmaids' dresses too."

"Yes, no wonder you had eyes for Bridget."

I try again, pulling Abigail closer.

She bends to my will.

Now I can speak in a softer way. A way that can't be overheard. "Bridget would have been convenient at the time, but it's you I remember."

"Me?"

"Yes, I remember how even then you wouldn't look at me, and you found the idea of walking down the aisle with me absolutely abhorrent."

Abigail blushes. "Not abhorrent ."

"Ah, what word would you use?" I lean a little closer.

Abigail's lips part.

Should I kiss her? Should I ruin the wedding here and now? Create a stir? Cause chaos?

I would never. For Abigail's sake.

But for my own, I'm fucking tired of tiptoeing. I have the woman I want in my arms. I have her body. Now I want her mind. All of it.

If I let my mind run wild as I tend to do with these things, I can picture a wedding like this one a few years in the future. Ours. Where we dance and have nothing to hide.

We don't have to be polite, veiling the things we want to say or the way we'd like to touch each other.

"You smell amazing, by the way," I add in her ear, getting a deep inhale of delectable cherry, the same scent I've had on my pillow while I've been away.

Instead of playing my game, Abigail speaks. "Sonia saw us."

I swing her around for another turn on the dance floor, narrowly avoiding an old couple dancing the way they did back in the sixties. "What…what do you mean?"

"Last night when I kissed you. She played dumb, but she saw us."

The flow of my body becomes rigid. Our movements on the floor are no long graceful but stilted.

"I'm sorry I made you kiss me. I shouldn't have." Her voice is laden with duress.

"You didn't make me do anything."

"I've made you do everything," she whispers.

I want nothing more than to pull her close to me and hold her. Reassure her.

How ironic the thing I want to reassure her about is the one thing we cannot be seen doing.

Still, I tighten my grip on her. If I can't pull her close, I'll remind her I want to.

"Abigail, you're remembering wrong."

"No, I'm not. It was all me. Back at the club. Back at the penthouse. Here. I keep pushing the limits and I–" She stops, lifting her head.

Tears are pooling in her eyes.

My poor girl. I'd brush away her tears if I could.

"Now she knows, and she wants me to stay away from you because it will upset my dad, and–" Abigail grits her teeth. "She's such a hypocrite."

"She just doesn't want you to get hurt, Abigail."

Abigail's warbling green eyes find mine. "You're going to hurt me?"

"Never. I'd never, ever hurt you, darling."

Abigail sucks her lower lip into her mouth. "I don't know what to do."

I take a moment to collect my thoughts, scanning the room for any eyes on us.

Edwin and Bonnie are preoccupied with chocolate, Abigail's brothers are enraptured by their respective partners, Bridget and Seth are nowhere to be seen, having probably snuck off to get their first round in as a married couple.

And Sonia.

There she is.

Staring directly at us.

When our eyes meet, she looks away, tries to pretend she wasn't watching.

Bloody hell .

What must she see? A man in his mid-forties taking advantage of a young woman? Trying to charm and ensnare her under his spell? Her husband's friend. Who he trusts to take care of his interests.

Including his daughter.

We'll trade for a little bit, hm?

"What do you want to do Abigail?"

"I don't know."

"You want to end things?"

Abigail hesitates just long enough to make my tongue turn to stone. "I don't know, Theo. I'm so…confused."

I nod. "I understand."

Of course she's confused. She's young.

But I am not confused. I know what my heart feels.

I know how it's breaking.

I release her hand and give her a small nod. "Well, it was a pleasure dancing with you."

Abigail starts to reach out. "Theo…"

I dodge her touch. Wouldn't be good for either of us. "You mustn't. She's watching."

Her hands tense up into balls.

"Don't worry, all right? Just enjoy the night. Please enjoy it." I force myself to smile as I speak.

Abigail smiles back.

I turn away before I do any further harm to myself.

§

The rest of the reception, I walk around in a daze. I barely eat. I don't drink. Poor Bonnie keeps asking me to get up and dance, and I can't hack it.

Laney and Camilla eventually offer to dance with her. Makes me feel like a cock-up father.

What else is bloody new?

I'm always shite at something. Always falling bloody short or flat on my face.

For the past few months, I felt I was closing in on a happiness I deserved. It was a delusion. That's what it was.

Delusion that Abigail and I would ever be something that could live outside the privacy of the bedroom or the dungeon.

Delusion that a relationship could exist between us while keeping the integrity of my friendship with Edwin.

I'm a bloody idiot.

I've been sitting next to Edwin for the better part of an hour now, listening to him bantering back and forth with a young man who is apparently a member of the club and a widower. He's got twins of his own back in New York.

I think Edwin wanted to link us up since we are both single fathers, but I can't focus on anything but Abigail and the timer counting down on my friendship with Edwin.

The man, Vince, reaches into the inside of his suit and withdraws a leather case. "Edwin tells me you do wealth management."

I eye him, then Edwin. Bloody hell, he's trying to set me up with a client.

Meanwhile I've been fucking his daughter. What kind of friend am I?

"I am."

"You have room on your roster? I've been trying to deal with my wife's assets for a few months now, and it's…" Vince clears his throat. "Been fucking hell."

I smile sympathetically. "I can imagine."

"Thought you two might be a good match." Edwin claps me on the shoulder. "Of course, Vince will keep his clothes on, but–"

"Christ, Ed," I mutter, not able to cultivate a laugh.

Vince thankfully has a profound interruption. "Cigars, gentlemen?"

Edwin guffaws. "You read my mind. Dory? You're in?"

If the idea of food turns my stomach, the idea of smoke filling my mouth does too. "Thank you, but no."

Vince shrugs. "Suit yourself."

He slides two cigars out of the case and sets about cutting them.

Edwin, though, is looking at me. "You all right, man?"

I say nothing.

"Sorry. Mate ."

I shake my head. "I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind."

Edwin leans toward me. "You want to go for a walk down the beach or something?"

"Maybe that'd be good." I stand, and Edwin starts to follow. I grab his shoulder. "No, you stay. I'll be all right on my own."

"You sure?"

"Yep. Just keep an eye on Bonnie for me, would you?"

Edwin smiles. "Of course. Any time."

Any bloody time.

I feel rotten. I want a piano to fall on me or a sinkhole to open out from beneath me. Preferably both.

"Thanks, mate."

I leave the tent for the shoreline, kicking off my shoes as I go. The cool sand sinks between my toes.

"Bugger all," I mutter on a heavy exhale and look out at the ocean.

The night is dark before me, so dark it's blue.

I remember when my mind used to feel like this. When it felt easier to be swallowed whole than go on. I'm no longer in a state like that. No one needs to fear for my life like they once did.

But the fact I know my mind can go there terrifies me.

I glance back at the tent lit up on the beach. A glowing beacon of love and promise. Inside is an absolute pearl. A woman for whom I would swim to the bottom of the ocean to retrieve her from the oyster shell. It would be a death-defying feat.

Not much different than my reality.

I need to be alone. Truly alone.

I trudge off down the shoreline, the ebbing and flowing tide lapping at my feet.

Alone. The only way I see myself moving through my life if Abigail isn't at my side.

I am a fool for fucking my best friend's daughter. And an even bigger fool for falling in love with her.