Besides, Lauren wasn’t the type of woman to everneedanything from a man. Not the type of woman to rely on a man.
“Did something happen with the deal?” Her tone was hesitant.
“We got it,” I said, though my voice lacked enthusiasm. “I just… I’m not used to this.”
She pushed up on her elbow, her caramel tresses brushing against my skin. “You think I am?”
I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not used to a woman wanting to be with me for me.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“In the past, women have only ever wanted me for one thing.”
“The amazing sex?” she asked, laying her head against my chest and tracing patterns on my skin with her nails.
God, it felt so good. I just wanted to close my eyes and stay there forever. I liked our little cocoon where we were safe from the outside world. Where people like Luther and Mia couldn’t destroy our hard-won happiness. I needed to tell her, clearly. But I didn’t want to ruin this moment.
“Obviously,” I joked, though I wished that were the truth. “But no, they want me for what they think I can do for them. They see my name, my wealth, and that’s all I am to them.”
“That’s shitty,” she said. “And shallow.”
I nodded, tucking an arm behind my head. “It is. Which is why I’ve always been a bit closed off to women in the past. Besides, it’s not like my parents’ relationship inspires much confidence.”
She barked out a laugh. “Yeah. I can understand that. You want to talk about fucked-up relationships—my parents were a prime example.”
It was the first time she’d mentioned their relationship. I’d always been curious what her father had done to alienate her so completely, but I knew better than to ask.
“Growing up, I had a good childhood. A happy childhood. We had a nice home. Lived in a nice neighborhood. And my parents loved each other. They fought from time to time, but what couple doesn’t.”
I sensed this was difficult for her, and I used my free hand to rub circles on her back. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
She was silent a moment before saying, “No. It’s okay. It’s something I’ve stayed silent about far too long.”
A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, and a million different scenarios raced through my brain. None of which I liked. I tightened my grip on her, staring at the ceiling as I waited for her to continue.
“My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer my freshman year of high school. My dad took her to every appointment, took care of her every need. He was the model husband, or so we thought.”
I frowned, wondering what she meant by that.
“We didn’t find out until after her death that he had a whole other family,” she spat. “Another life.”
“Wow,” I breathed, trying to imagine what that would be like. “That must have been quite the shock.”
She nodded against my chest. “I didn’t just lose my mom that year. I lost both my parents.”
Suddenly, her comments about never forgiving her dad made sense. And I could imagine just how much his decisions had impacted the rest of her life.
I knew I should tell her about Mia, about the baby. But my gut told me not to. Told me to wait for a better moment. A moment when she wasn’t so vulnerable. The problem was, I wasn’t sure one would come.
