Of course she did. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Our conversation had never been so stilted. I was pretty sure we both felt it, yet neither one of us knew how to fix it. Although Graham kept trying. “So what did you think of the Hamptons?”
“You want me to be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I think the landscape is beautiful. The ocean, the homes, all the boats down at the marina. But it’s not someplace I could ever imagine myself wanting to spend my summers. The people just seem so…homogenous.”
“That’s a good way to put it. It’s never been my favorite place either. Actually, it’s very different in the off-season. I always preferred to come out in October or November. There’s still a lot of farmers and fisherman who live out there. The town is very different when it’s just locals.”
“If it’s not your favorite place, why would you buy that house?”
“Genevieve wanted it. And if we’re being honest, at the time, the status symbol of having a home in the Hamptons seemed important.”
“It doesn’t anymore?”
Graham squeezed my hand. “My priorities have changed.”
“If you were to buy a summer home now, where would it be?”
He responded immediately. “Brooklyn.”
I chuckled. “You’d summer in Brooklyn?”
“I’d summer inside of you. It doesn’t matter where I am anymore.”
CHAPTER 26
SORAYA
WEDNESDAY NIGHT, GRAHAM HAD DINNER at Genevieve’s with Chloe. I found it difficult to sit home and keep my mind off of picturing what the three of them looked like together at the dining room table sharing a meal. So rather than go straight home, I stopped by Tig and Delia’s tattoo shop, and we pigged out on sushi and sake. By nine-thirty when it was time to close up, I was sufficiently full and buzzed enough that I was finally ready to go home.
Stripping out of my work clothes, I plugged in my phone and slipped into bed. Just as I closed my eyes, the bell sounded. Since he hadn’t texted all evening, I had a feeling Graham might stop by. I went to the door and pressed the button to buzz him in, then slipped the latch from the top lock open and waited to hear footsteps at the door.
I opened it, smiling, just as his knuckles lightly rapped on the door.
Seeing the man on the other side made my smile immediately fall.
“Dad? What are you doing here?”
He took off his hat and crossed it over his chest. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
This morning, I’d asked God for a sign as to how I should handle my relationship with Graham. It made me wonder if He sent Frank Venedetta as some sort of twisted messenger.
I walked over to the kitchen cabinet. “Can I get you something to drink?” On edge, I accidentally let the wooden door slam shut after I got myself a glass.
My father took a seat at the table. “Water will be fine.”
The smell of Old Spice filling my kitchen brought me straight back to my childhood.
“I think I’m going to need something stronger,” I said, opening a bottle of merlot.
“Okay, then, in that case, I’ll have what you’re having.”
“Wine, it is.” I poured two glasses and handed one to him.
He smiled. “This is nice. Never thought I’d be enjoying a glass of vino with my daughter tonight.”
I cut to the chase. “What brings you here, Dad?”
He took a sip then let out a long, slow breath. His expression turned serious. “I’ve been thinking about coming to see you for a while but kept putting it off because I didn’t want to upset you.”
“So, why tonight?”
“It just felt like it was time.”
“Say what you came to say.”
“The day you visited me, you asked me a direct question that I didn’t really know how to answer. You wanted to know whether I would have stayed with your mother had Theresa not loved me back or if perhaps I’d never met her. I wasn’t prepared for that question at the time.”
“You figured out the answer?”
“I’ve thought about it a lot these past several days. The bottom line is, if Theresa hadn’t come along, I do believe there is a very good chance your mother and I would still be married today. It’s hard for me to admit that because I don’t want you to blame Theresa for my actions and personal choices.”
“But you also told me that day that you don’t regret the choices you’ve made, which means you don’t regret hurting us. That’s really hard to accept.”
“No. That’s not what I meant. I love you and do regret hurting you, but I don’t regret falling in love with Theresa.”
“How could you claim to have loved us when you left like you did?”
My father rested his head between his hands before saying, “It’s not that simple. There are different kinds of love, Soraya.”