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I rolled my eyes. “The day after, he came to my house and offered me a job as a consultant. I took it, because I couldn’t do anything else and I needed a steady income. We worked together every night, stuff happened and our kids met, and yeah. Like I said, it’s complicated.”
He slowly nodded his head, indicating off the main road to another busy stretch. “I get that. Does he know everything about you?”
“Mostly. I think. Dahlia told me you told her everything.”
Nodding again, he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “I owed her that. She told me everything and, well, the past was the only thing holding me back from her. She deserved my honesty or I didn’t deserve her.”
“You really love her, don’t you?”
“More than anything.” He paused. “She makes a difference in my life. A good one.”
“I’m glad.” I squeezed his shoulder. “You deserve it.”
“You do, too, Per.”
“I don’t know. Sometimes, maybe.”
Damien shook his head. “You went through the same shit I did, but worse. Dad at least had hope for me. For you…” He sighed sadly. “You were his on paper. I hate that he’s ruined your life for the entirety of your daughter’s. I wish I could turn back and take all that away, because you, more than anyone, are worthy of being loved.”
I blinked back tears. “It doesn’t matter. He’s not the one. I already know that.”
“I said that about Dahlia, too.”
“No, Damien. His ex—his son’s mom—was a prostitute, too. She was…a horrible person. He’s prejudiced to us, that much is clear. I’m nothing like she was, but I know there’s a part of him that can’t look past her.”
“Do you?” He tapped his fingers against the wheel, pulling onto Adrian’s street. “Can you read his mind? That’s your perception of the situation, not the reality. Maybe you should try asking him. Hell, if me and Dahlia had asked each other a few more questions, we wouldn’t have made such a fucking opera about our relationship.”
I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my hair. He was right. That was me projecting my feelings, not Adrian’s.
He was growing on me.
Shit, he was more than growing on me.
He made me feel different—special, appreciated, cherished.
Maybe even loved.
“Which house is it?” Damien cut through my mini monologue, slowing the car right down.
“A little further down. The third one on the right.”
He pulled up in front of the right one.
“Are you coming in with me?”
He glanced between me and the house, hesitating for a second before saying, “Sure.”
I got out of the car and bounded up the path to the house. I was nervous, sure, but I was always excited. The one thing Lola wanted more than anything was a family, and I was finally able to give her that. I was able to give her an uncle who, I knew, would love her to pieces.
I knocked three times, then heard, “Who is it?” from Adrian.
Um… “It’s me.”
“Oh! Come in! It’s unlocked!”
Adrian had his door unlocked? What the hell was going on in there?
I eked the door open and poked my head around it. I couldn’t see a damn thing except the wall, so I moved inside to where I could look through the living room door.
“Where are you?” I called, still seeing nothing.
“Kitchen!” Zac shouted.
“Uh, I’m not alone.”
“It’s fine!” Adrian called.
I waved for Damien to step in and shut the door, then made my way to the kitchen.
Then, when I got there, I froze.
Lola sat on one side of the table, arms outstretched, hands flat on the top with her fingers splayed.
And Adrian sat on the other, a hot pink nail polish bottle next to him with the brush in his hand.
“Hi.” He put the brush in the bottle and looked at me.
I swallowed. “Uh…Hi.”
Zac stared at me. “Girls are bossy. I wanted to play video games, but no. Lola needed her nails painted.”
“Right…”
“Zac tried.” Lola sighed. “But he spilled the polish on the floor.”
My eyes widened.
“The kitchen floor!” she added quickly. “Mommy, I know you don’t do polish on the carpet.”
The momentary flash of panic subsided. “Well, that’s good.” It came out as a half-question, and I glanced to Adrian hopefully.
He grinned as he applied polish to Lola’s middle finger on her right hand. “All good, I promise. They picked it up right away and even cleaned it up. And I learned that the only thing Zac should paint is paper, outside, on the neighbor’s sidewalk.”
Zac harrumphed, arms folded across his chest.
I fought a smile. He looked so adorable with his messy hair curling across his forehead and his beautiful little eyes looking away in annoyance. I wanted to walk up to him, smack a kiss on his cheek and ruffle his hair the way I had this morning before I’d left, just to make him smile at me the way he had this morning.
