The Fifth Lesson (The Bay Boys #2) (36 page)

Afterwards, panting in Adam’s arms, Christie would sometimes marvel that they’d made it six months without clawing off each other’s clothes.
 
The sexual charge had always been there.
 
But Christie hadn’t known that it would’ve been this
life changing
.

Christie played with Adam’s hair, her bracelets jingling.
 
They’d been so wrapped up in each other that she’d forgotten to take them off before they made it to bed.

Adam shifted to catch her eye.
 
His glasses were a little skewed on his face, but she found that completely adorable.
 
His tousled sex hair gave him an edge that had her tingling with interest
already
.

“Are you free on Saturday night?” Adam asked, his voice low.

Christie was about to say, “Of course.”
 
But then she remembered the charity fundraiser that Joseph asked—more like ordered—her to attend.

So, instead, she frowned and said, “No.
 
I have to go to an art gallery in San Francisco.
 
It’s that charity event I told you about.
 
Joseph’s friend is hosting it.”

“Who?”

“Viktor Kent.”
 
She brightened.
 
Joseph hadn’t said she couldn’t bring someone.
 
“But you could be my date.”

Adam chuckled and pressed a kiss on her forehead.
 
“Well, I was actually going to ask
you
to be
my
date.”

Christie frowned and leaned up on her elbow so she could see him better.
 
“What do you mean?”

“My mother called me today,” he said, as though it was all the explanation she needed.
 
“My family was invited to attend.
 
She’s been pressuring me to invite you since she knows you’re an artist.
 
I just didn’t connect the dots, even though I know you’ve been working on a fundraiser with Joseph.”

Of course Adam’s family would’ve been invited.
 
The fundraiser was going to be a big event, complete with evening wear, caterers in tuxes, and an auction where bids would reach five figures.
 
Viktor Kent’s gallery was infamous in the art world and only the highest social circles in the Bay had been invited to attend.
 
All the wealthy wine families in Napa included.

“So, you’re going?” she asked slowly.

“I was planning on it.
 
If you were free, of course,” he murmured into her ear.

“And here I almost forgot who you are,” she said in response, sighing.

Adam pulled back to study her, quietly assessing.
 
She shook her head, smiling.
 
She didn’t want him to think it intimidated her, even though it did.

“Does it bother you?
 
Who my family is?” he asked quietly.
 
“I don’t think I’ve ever asked you.”

She was already shaking her head, “No.
 
I’m sorry.
 
Of course not.
 
I just forget sometimes that you come from a well-known family.
 
It just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”
 
She smoothed a hand down his chest, sifting her fingers through the sparse, wiry hairs.
 
“It’s just that I’m going to be at the fundraiser making sure everything runs smoothly, while you’re going because your family was invited.
 
Do you know how many people wanted to be added to the guest list?
 
And here, you don’t even want to go.”

“You know I’m not into that lifestyle,” he reminded her.
 
“Not like my mother is.
 
She
lives
for this…all the flashy socialites, the atmosphere, the money that you can practically smell in the air.”
 
Well, it seemed Adam’s mother and Christie’s mother had that in common.
 
“I’m planning to go because it would make her happy to see me there.
 
And if she’s happy, then that means she’s not numb.
 
And that makes
me
happy.”

“Adam…” she whispered, reaching up to stroke his brow.
 
“I’m sorry for bringing it up.
 
I just forget sometimes because you’re not like those people.”
 
She quickly corrected herself.
 
“Not that your mom is like them either.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his throat tight.
 
“I know how she is.
 
I lied to myself for a long time, but I’m not afraid to say how it is anymore.
 
She
is
like them.
 
Why do you think she lets my dad sleep around?
 
Why do you think she stays in that toxic marriage?
 
It’s just the truth, Christie.
 
And you shouldn’t be afraid of that.”

Tears welled up in her eyes at the pain in his voice.
 
Everything came on so suddenly.
 
She didn’t mean to upset him, but it was obvious that she had.
 
Somehow, another ‘I’m sorry’ just didn’t seem appropriate.

They were silent for a few moments.
 
Christie watched Adam’s chest rise and fall—just a little faster than it had before—and listened to his breaths.
 
Her eyes shifted to her wrist, to the dozens of bangles surrounding a simple gold bracelet.

Adam’s voice was like sandpaper when he spoke next.

“When my mother was going through a bad bout of depression, she attempted suicide.”

Christie froze.
 
Her whole body locked in place, shock stopping her breathing altogether.

“Just once.
 
I was in college, in my second year.
 
It’s so easy to forget about your parents’ problems when you’re so far away from home.
 
My father called me when I was studying for finals, told me what had happened.
 
Pain medication.
 
We don’t know how she got it, but we didn’t recognize the name on the bottle.
 
One of the housekeepers found her.
 
She got her to the hospital.
 
Saved her life.

“I still think about it a lot though.
 
In the beginning there was a lot of guilt.
 
I kept thinking that if only I’d called her more, talked to her more than just once a week, maybe I could’ve prevented it.
 
I know it’s not my fault, but I still think that.
 
I can’t help it.
 
That’s why I never want her to fall back into that place again.
 
I used to lie awake at night and just
worry
.
 
I’d wonder if I’d see her alive again.
 
And I still think that sometimes.
 
It was fucked up…
is
fucked up.”

Christie took a deep breath, the tears pooling over.
 
“I’m sorry, Adam,” she whispered, her voice ragged.

His face softened.
 
“I didn’t mean to tell you this now.
 
I just thought that you should know.
 
Everything.
 
She’s a good person and I love her so much.
 
But she’s not perfect and sometimes it’s hard to love her and—“

She stroked his bottom lip.
 
“It’s okay, Adam.
 
You don’t have to say anything.
 
I understand.”
 
She understood what it was like to both love and hate someone.
 
Her dad.
 
Her mom.
 
“And I know what it’s like to be afraid.
 
I used to worry that my dad would drink himself to death one night.
 
If I came home after he passed out on the couch at night, I would watch his chest and make sure he was still with me before I went to bed.
 
After my mom left, he was all I had.
 
Besides my aunt, of course, but I could never love her the way I loved him.
 
He was my
father
.
 
Despite everything he did, he still is my father.”

“Your mom left?” he asked, his tone cautious yet surprised.

She’d never talked about it.
 
Not once in the six, seven months she’d known him.
 
People usually assumed her mother had passed away and Christie didn’t correct them.
 
Because to her, she had.
 
The moment she broke her promise to Christie.

“My dad loved her.
 
So much.
 
The kind of love people only read about.
 
But it was more one-sided than she’d led him to believe.
 
My mom loved luxury more.
 
Things, objects.
 
I was nine when she left him.
 
When she left us, really.”

“That’s when he started drinking,” he murmured, realization dawning on him.

“It was the catalyst, yes.”

“Have you seen her since?
 
Spoken with her?”

“No,” she said, her throat tight.
 
She lifted her wrist and pointed to the gold bracelet.
 
“She gave me this before she left.
 
She made me promise to keep it safe.
 
She told me she’d come back, that she was going to visit some old friends for a week.
 
Just for a little bit.
 
My dad wasn’t home when she left.
 
Just me.
 
Like a fool, I believed her.
 
This bracelet was the most expensive thing she owned.
 
It was from her grandmother.
 
And I never saw her without it so when she gave it to me, promising she’d come back, I believed her.
 
Now, I know what it is.
 
A guilty parting gift.
 
She never intended to come back for it.”

When her mom never returned, her dad called friends of hers in a panic, worried something had happened to her.
 
One of them took pity and told him the truth.

Adam was quiet for a little while.
 
But he continued to stroke her skin and that was the only thing she needed from him.
 
His presence, his comfort, his warmth.
 
His love.

“And you still wear it.
 
After all this time.”

She stared at it.
 
It shone on her wrist like a glaring accusation.

“I’m going to give it back to her.
 
Next time I see her.
 
I don’t care if it’s when I pass her in the street or maybe even at her funeral, but I’m going to give it back to her.
 
One day.
 
I just hope it’s sooner than later, so I don’t have to look at it anymore.
 
I just want to move on.
 
And forget.”

Adam kissed her on the temple.
 
“You just want closure.
 
It’s natural.”

“I do,” she agreed.

“Do you ever wonder about her?”

“Of course.
 
But the last thing I heard was that she remarried someone rich the moment my dad finally signed the divorce papers.
 
I think they live near Palo Alto.
 
I ran into one of her old friends a couple years ago at my gallery.
 
But I haven’t heard anything since.”

She’d felt unwanted for a long time.
 
Abandoned by her mother, passed over for alcohol by her father.

But she realized, lying in Adam’s arms, that she felt truly cherished by someone.

She nuzzled her cheek into his chest and then murmured, “Let’s just go to sleep.”

One more kiss and Adam gave in, whispering, “Okay, beautiful.”

Long after he fell asleep, Christie was still awake, staring at the rise and fall of his bare chest.
 
She thought about her mother and her father.
 
And for the first time, she wondered how much she’d hurt him when she’d left.
 
It must have felt like another betrayal.
 
Her heart ached just thinking about it.
 
She’d spent so much time villainizing him for his actions.
 
Perhaps he deserved it.
 
But was she really willing to turn her back on him again, when he’d changed for the better?

She didn’t want to hold on to her anger and disappointment any longer.
 
She had wonderful friends, a wonderful man, and a wonderful life.
 
She had nothing to complain about.

Christie slipped out of bed around three in the morning.
 
Careful not to disturb Adam, she softly padded to her laptop on her makeshift desk in the living room and booted it up.
 
She didn’t have her dad’s phone number, but her aunt would.

She sent off a quick email, knowing that her aunt would probably check her inbox first thing in the morning, the computer loving convert that she was.

When she finished, after sending off a quick request for her father’s contact information, she felt a sense of relief.
 
It warmed her and she began to think that she could start mending the broken pieces of her past.

Like Adam said…she needed closure.
 
She needed to move on from that part of her life, dissolve all the past hurt, and start embracing what could be.

*
     
*
   
*

The next morning, she woke up to Adam’s kisses and a response from Aunt Barbara.

All it said was:

Here’s his phone number.
 
I love you, wonderful girl.

Christie called her father once Adam left for work.
 
It was weird speaking to him over the phone, but he was so pleased that she’d called.
 
They made plans for him to visit in a couple weeks.