I know she’s being protective, and I can’t blame her for that. Really, it means a lot. I’m all she has left in this world and she doesn’t want to see me get hurt.
Things just aren’t always that simple. People are rarely one thing or another. I bet Julian was an asshole. Heck, he’s still an asshole.
But he’s also the man that makes me smile, makes me feel good. He’s the man that I call Daddy, and I love it.
“Thanks for coming to see me,” I say to her as we head out onto the street. “I’ll come stop by in a few days, okay?”
Mom hugs me. “Sounds good, honey.” She hesitates and I can tell she wants to say something else, but instead she walks off, giving a little wave and a smile.
I watch her head over to her car and get in. I sigh and turn away, mind spinning in circles.
I’ve never had my mom care about my relationships before. She’s usually so hands-off about all that stuff. She’s about as cool as moms get, understanding and honest, but still stern when she needs to be. I don’t know how Julian got on her bad side, but it does make me a little worried.
I pull out my phone and look at it, leaning up against a light post. I hesitate but pull up his number and call it.
He answers after a couple rings. “Well, hello there,” he says, and I can hear a smile on his lips.
“Hi,” I say. “I just finished having lunch with my mom.”
He’s silent for a second. “How did that go?”
I laugh a little. “Why does she hate you?”
He laughs nervously. “Hard to explain, honestly.”
“Try.”
“Your mother and I… we go way back. I mean, as far back as your father and I.”
“So there’s a lot of history, I get that.”
“She just never approved of me. Thought I was a bad influence on your dad.”
“I got that. But what did you do?”
He’s silent for a second. “Let me come see you. I’ll explain in person.”
I bite my lip. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. I know he’s just going to distract me if I let him come in person. Maybe it’s better if I push him away now.
But I do want to see him. I feel like I’ve never seen him outside of the office, even though that’s not true. I want to spend time with him like normal people would.
“Okay,” I say finally. “Where?”
“Your place.”
I don’t say anything for a second. “You know my place is a tiny little mess compared to yours, right?”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” he says. “Anyway, I want to see where you live. You’ve been to my place.”
“Okay,” I say. “If you really want to.”
“I really want to.”
“I’ll text you the address.”
“See you soon.”
I hang up and quickly send him my address. I slip my phone into my bag and start running like hell back to my apartment.I just barely have enough time to straighten up before he arrives.
He looks around as he steps inside. “Cute,” he says.
I wince. “That’s a nice way of saying small.”
“I mean it. Shit, I’m a little out of touch, you know? But this place… you clearly made it a home.”
That makes me smile a little bit. He’s right, I have put a lot of work into this apartment. It’s not big or fancy or even in a great location, but it’s all mine, and I’m proud of it.
It’s the first place I’ve been able to truly call all mine.
“Well, thanks,” I say.
“Going to give me the tour?”
I laugh. “Okay.” I hold my hand to the right. “Living room.” I move my hand to the left. “Kitchen.” I point to the back hall. “Bedroom and bathroom.”
“Beautiful,” he says. “Very efficient.”
We drift over toward my kitchen table and he sits down, legs stretched out. He’s wearing black jeans, a shawl collar cardigan, and a light gray button-down shirt. His hair’s pushed back and he’s smirking at me like he owns the damn place.
Which, I guess he could, if he wanted to.
“Drink?” I ask.
“Isn’t it too early for that?”
I shrug. “Never too early.”
“I can get behind that.”
I pour two small glasses of wine and slide one over to him. He takes it and sips as I watch him.
“You want to ask about your mom,” he says.
“Seriously, why does she hate you so much?”
He sighs and leans back. “Look, honestly? I haven’t always been the nicest person in the world.”
I gasp. “No way.”
He rolls his eyes. “I was kind of an asshole when I was younger.”
“Just when you were younger?”
He glares at me. “Are you going to let me talk?”
“I’ll try.”
“Fine. Anyway, I used to drag your father around, and he’d get involved in my… high jinks.”
“High jinks? So you really did try and get him to steal a car?”