She presses her hands over her heart. “Wow. Thank you, Mr. No-Land. Thank you for gracing me with your epic love charity. Lucky, lucky me that the great Hot Daddy Dean would make such a sacrifice to take me as his girl.”
Damn. I guess what I said did come out a little douchey.
Lara turns to leave.
“Where are you going? The reporters are out there.”
“I’d rather face them than listen to your BS.” She opens the front door, and the apartment floods with the sound of yelling reporters for a short moment before the door slams shut.
“Fine! I have better things to do anyway!” I march to my kitchen and grab a cold one from the fridge. I pop off the top, take a swig, and set it on the counter. The frosty fizz does nothing to calm the fire in my chest.
How dare she! I don’t want a relationship because I feel needy or insecure. I’ve been on my own most of my life. I know how to handle bad, bad, horrible things, like hunger or having no electricity because my uncle spent his money on whisky and coke. I know what it’s like to lie to every adult I met from the age of ten straight through to eighteen, telling them my mom was at work or that the rent would be paid if they’d just give us a few more days. I’m damned good at survival. I perform my best when faced with adversity.
I know how to…
The feeling in my chest starts to tighten. It’s the pedestal complex. Only this time, I’m the one putting myself up there. Gotta love it.
I go to my living room and sit on the couch, spearing my fingers through my hair. “God, I’m so messed up.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I dig it out, hopeful it’s someone telling me that Fia is on the way. “Hello?”
“Dean, it’s me. Marli.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LARA
I get to my car and lock the doors. These stupid reporters are like horseflies, buzzing all around me. I can’t leave unless I run someone over.
Idiots. As if I’m going to make a statement telling them that Dean is part of a baby-trafficking ring. Who’d believe that anyway? Of course, these days, the news is willing to jump on any story they hear. Doesn’t matter if it’s true. Just as long as someone—anyone—posts it on Twitter.
Bigfoot! Caught on tape buying underwear at Neiman Marcus! Boxers or briefs? You won’t believe the answer.
New discovery! The Earth really is flat. See photos NASA has hidden for four hundred years.
This just in. Poll shows that politicians are the most trusted people in America.
After a few minutes, the flies realize they’ll have to feed their hunger for fake bullcrap elsewhere. I’m about to head back to my place when I’m overwhelmed with the urge to stay.
The thing is, I want Dean, but that was never in question. The problem has always been that he didn’t want me back. At least, not the way I needed. Maybe he flirted a little once. Super casual. Unfortunately, I’m not a casual person. I don’t sleep with, give myself to, or share my life with anyone who’s not worth my time. I learned my lesson the hard way when the people I loved and trusted most in this world turned their backs and made me give up my baby.
Fine. Okay. I gave her up. It was my choice. But I’d been convinced I’d be hurting her if I didn’t put her up for adoption. Wanting her was selfish, they said.
Now I know the truth. My parents just didn’t want the inconvenience. They had their life plan: retire early, travel, do whatever they wanted when they wanted. My own mother said that being a grandmother at forty-one wasn’t her plan, so I had to deal with “the problem.”
I was just out of high school and had delayed starting college, even though I’d been accepted to a great university. My parents convinced me that my future was ahead of me, but only if I gave up the baby. Otherwise, my life would be one of struggle and poverty. They made it clear they would not support me in any way since it was “my mistake,” not theirs.
Of course, raising a child on my own terrified me, so that was that. I gave her up and went on with my life—college, career, a dream of running my own winery someday.
But I live every day with the choice I made, and while I want to move on, I know a part of me never will. I allowed the people around me to influence the biggest decision of my life. I trusted them. And they abused that trust by putting themselves first.
The point is, trust is everything to me, and I don’t trust Dean. Not that I think he’s bad or a liar. He just doesn’t know what he wants yet. His life has been turned on its head, and he’s treading pretty rough waters.