Chapter 26

Darcy sat with her legs tucked under her hips on the leather sofa in Chuck and Betty’s living room. The scent of a vanilla candle burned on the coffee table. The flickering light illuminated the family photographs on the cream-colored walls. In the background, Christmas carols played.

“So, tell us what happened.” Betty handed Darcy a mug of eggnog and sat beside her.

Chuck knelt in front of the fireplace to fix the gas starter, so they could complete the idyllic holiday setting. “Do you want me to leave? I can go into the kitchen.”

“No, you can stay.” Darcy waved for him to take a seat. “Getting another man’s point-of-view might be refreshing.”

Chuck nodded and returned his attention to the gas starter.

Darcy began with her breakup with Victor and wound her way backward to the engagement deception. The longer she spoke, the wider Betty’s gaze grew.

Chuck abandoned his project and leaned back in the recliner across from them. As he listened, he kept nodding.

“Then to make matters worse, I have to move out of my rented room by mid-December.” Darcy raised her arms. “Sam and Linda’s daughter is pregnant and taking off a year from school to have the baby. She’s moving back home.”

Chuck whistled long and low. “That’s an awful lot to happen in a few hours.”

Frowning, Betty shook her head. “I can’t believe you lied to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Darcy’s stomach twisted, and she glanced away.

Betty set her empty mug on the coffee table. “I get why you did it, but I don’t get why you continued with the charade once you got home.”

Darcy stared at her bare hands. She bit her lower lip and steadied her voice. “I told the truth, but you didn’t believe me.”

“I thought you had cold feet.” Betty widened her eyes and lifted her hands. “I didn’t think you were lying.”

Darcy closed her eyes. “Every time I attempted to stop the farce, something interfered to make continuing easier.” Remembering Victor’s kisses, she opened her eyes and smiled. “I enjoyed being wanted, even if the feeling was pretend.”

Chuck leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees. “But you are wanted. He said he loves you.”

Darcy gazed at the third finger of her left hand and frowned. She didn’t want to admit the start of having real feelings for Victor, and the fear of getting hurt forced her to let him go.

“Do you love him?” Chuck asked.

Inhaling, Darcy thought about Victor pestering her in the car. Do you love me? Why can’t you love me? Always about the love she couldn’t admit to feeling. She swallowed over a lump in her throat. “No, I don’t,” she lied.

“You made the right choice.” Chuck smiled and nodded.

Darcy burst into tears. Why did her decision feel like the wrong selection?

“Don’t cry.” Betty wrapped her arms around Darcy’s shoulders and hugged her close. “The lying is over.”

Why did Darcy feel like the lying had just begun?

****

On Sunday morning, Darcy sat alone in the Barnes’ living room while Chuck and Betty Christmas shopped. They wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours. Darcy drank two cups of coffee, ate half a package of Danishes, and finished reading the book of the week, Watership Down.

Her phone rang. Darcy stared at it for a long moment.

Joyce’s phone number flashed on the caller ID.

Should she pick it up? Or let it go to voicemail? Darcy grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Mom,” Joyce sobbed, “when Tyler left to drop off Dad and Tanya at the airport, he said he needed space to figure out things. I asked him what about, and he said his feelings for me. What’s going on? Has Victor been talking to him again?”

Darcy stiffened, recalling her conversation with Tyler and her fear she might have ruined her daughter’s life. Now, Tyler refused to talk to Joyce, and Joyce insisted on blaming someone. Of course, Darcy would never admit her guilt to Joyce. “I don’t know if Victor and Tyler have spoken.”

“Why is he reconsidering his feelings for me?”

“I don’t know.” Darcy shrugged. “Maybe the stress from planning the wedding is the reason. I’ve watched you over these last couple of months, and I’ve noticed you don’t always treat Tyler with the respect he deserves.” She braced her shoulders, waiting for Joyce’s backlash against her advice. When she didn’t hear anything, she softened against the sofa cushions. “Sometimes, you treat him like he’s your child and not your partner. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t feel the same way he used to.”

“Are you saying he’s fallen out of love with me?”

She winced, hearing the hurt in her daughter’s voice. Leaning forward, she wished she could wrap her arms around her daughter and hug her until the pain disappeared. “No, I’m saying he needs to be alone for a little while to sort out how he does feel about you.”

“But how can we plan a wedding if we’re not communicating because he needs his space?”

“Put the wedding on hold. You don’t even have a place to get married anymore.” She cupped her forehead, knowing she spoke rationally about the decision. “I’ve asked Victor to stop with the purchase of the house.”

Joyce sobbed louder. “I wish you had never broken up with Victor. Whatever Victor does, Tyler has to do.”

“Their need to mimic each other’s actions is ridiculously juvenile if it’s true.” Why did her daughter always have to blame someone other than herself? “My advice is to give Tyler as much space as he needs. No phone calls, no text messages, and no surprise visits. No communication until he’s ready, understand?”

“Is that what you did with Dad when you weren’t getting along?”

The sharp tone of her daughter’s voice startled her. She thought back to their fights, how they never respected each other’s boundaries or opinions. Tears blurred her vision. “No, but I should have given him space. We might have saved the marriage.” She choked. “If we had stayed a family, I might have a better relationship with you.”

Joyce gasped. “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry.”

The softness in Joyce’s voice soothed Darcy’s jagged breathing. She closed her eyes, wishing she could go back in time and change everything to have the intimacy she craved with her daughter.

****

On Monday, Betty and Darcy sat toward the back of Katie’s Koffee, sipping gingerbread lattes and eating cinnamon scones.

Betty pinched her face. “I’m not as forgiving as Chucky.” She wagged a finger. “If I had my way, I wouldn’t let you stay another night, let alone for however long you’ll need to find a new place.”

Darcy sighed. “I apologized for lying. What else can I do?”

Betty pursed her lips. “To earn back someone’s trust takes a long time. Sometimes, it’s impossible.”

Swallowing, Darcy brushed the crumbs off her skirt. “What if I had told you the truth from the very beginning? Would it have made a difference?”

Betty tilted her head to the side. “I don’t think I would have believed the truth. You and Victor have a lot in common with your work ethic and your professional reputation. When I see you together, the age difference doesn’t matter. You can’t fake the synchronicity.”

Of course, they appeared perfect together, because they were ideal for each other. Darcy stared into her coffee mug. “Victor said I was a good actress, but most of the time, I wasn’t acting.”

Betty sighed. “Does that mean you have feelings for him?”

Cupping the mug, she inhaled the spicy scent, steam rising and moistening her face. Sipping a mouthful of foam, she thought about her feelings for Victor. The way she anticipated their time together, the banter they shared, and the kindness and insight he offered. She grimaced. The irritation she felt at his competitiveness with Tyler, his obsession with work, and his impulsive nature which always kept her guessing. She set down her mug. Why did she struggle with the truth? “I don’t know.”

Betty bowed her head. “I feel bad for Victor.” She glanced up and met Darcy’s gaze. “Why did you hurt him?”

Biting her lower lip, she glanced away. Had she hurt him? A cold sensation swept through her, and she shuddered. Of course, she hurt him. And she would probably do it again.

“I’m not looking forward to work today.” Betty stood and brushed the crumbs from her skirt. “I hate the fallout after a breakup.”

“Don’t worry.” Darcy gathered her belongings. “Nothing will affect his work. He’s a professional. Like me.” But would her professionalism crack under the weight of her unexpressed feelings?