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And I couldn’t give up now.
Sunday did not go as Trent and I had planned.
After he’d spent the night sleeping in the waiting room while I went in and out of my mother’s hospital room, he drove home to take a shower and pick up Luna from Camila’s and drop her off with his parents, who’d gotten back into town from Vegas.
I used the opportunity to head home for a shower and a snack. My mother had come to in the middle of the night. She was awake, but hardly coherent. We’d spoken while Trent waited outside. She told me how my father walked in, late Saturday afternoon and broke the news to her like he was delivering an obituary for a long-distance relative. How he didn’t even care when the divorce papers he’d placed on the table in front of her were so wet with her tears, you couldn’t read a sentence of them.
I took a long, scorching hot shower, slipped into a loose yellow summer dress, then ate a quiet, lonely breakfast at the kitchen table. Granola, yogurt, and coconut water.
My house was part of a gated community in an exclusive Todos Santos neighborhood called La Vista. In order to get in, you needed a code, or to know the sleepy guards at the gate. That’s why, at first, I didn’t pay attention to the honking outside my house. I assumed it was a friend of the teenage boy across the road and cursed them inwardly for being so loud on a Sunday morning.
Beep, beep. Beeeeeeep.
I hated teenagers. I didn’t even care that I was technically one of them. I dumped the bowl of yogurt into the sink, not feeling like washing it, but then thought the better of it. I could leave it for the housekeepers, but I was never that person. No matter how much my parents took them for granted. I started washing the bowl, feeling my body sagging with the weight of the world.
Beep, beeeeeeep, beeeeeeeeeeep.
Where the hell was Adrian, the guy who lived across the street? Usually, he all but jumped out of his second-story window to go out with his friends. I sulked quietly as I dried the bowl and the glass I’d used, moving toward the door.
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeep, beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Reaching the end of my nerves, I flung the door open, my eyes already squeezed shut and the shriek leaving my mouth. “This is a quiet neighborhood on a Sunday morning! Keep it down, will you?”
“Not a fucking chance. I have a reputation to live up to.”
I popped my eyes open, staring at Trent in his black Tesla, wearing a plain white T-shirt and a beanie that didn’t look stupid at six o’clock in the morning, when the desert chill was still gripping. God, he was gorgeous.
“What are you doing here?” I blinked.
He threw his car into park, got out, and walked over to me, taking my hand. It looked foreign and dangerous, having him do that. So natural, but also so reckless. My father could still drop by to get something from the house. Not to mention my neighbors had big mouths and he’d probably gotten everyone’s attention with his honking. If Trent was feeling like breaking our rules, he needed to talk to me about it first. Because I still had everything to lose.
I took a step back. “No. What’s happening?” I frowned. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I second that statement, and yet I am. Come with me.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I need to go be with my mom.”
“It’s a brilliant idea,” he retorted. “Your mom is stable, and she’ll be sleeping for the majority of the morning, probably. I have a surprise.”
A surprise. It made my heart lift and twinge with guilt. He was trying to be nice to me, and I’d pretty much admitted I’d screw him over the minute he’d let me. I really was his Delilah. But the worst part was that in the end, it was Samson who had won. Not her. Because sneaky, shady people always end up losing the fight, even if they did win the small battles.
“Trent…”
“I got you a visitation permit for Theo,” he cut in, hope sneaking into his hardened face. I blinked at him, perplexed. I’d never seen him look like this. Like a buoyant kid.
“H…how?”
“Your father is not the only person in the world with connections.”
“You will need to elaborate.”
“Sonya.”
Sonya. I immediately gave him a funny look, taking a step back. He rolled his eyes and grabbed me by the arm, ushering me to his car. I was lucky to have my Dr. Martens on, or else he’d probably have taken me barefoot.
“Calm your tits, Tide. She is Luna’s therapist. She knows people who know people who make things happen. And she has a very big heart.”
