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Maybe it is, maybe I’ve read one too many love stories.
From what I’ve learned so far, maybe I do expect too much.
Especially if I can’t get the man I’m falling for to defend me.
Did I cause the drama? No. Dominic did.
Did I expect too much from Sean?
It breaks my heart to think I might have. That he’s incapable of being who I hope he would be because he’s given me so much of what I want already.
Should I compromise to keep him? Hell no.
Sean was wrong. Dominic was wrong. I am taking up for myself.
I’ve lived through two bad examples and know enough to see the warning signs.
Some part of me thinks that my sickly heart was inherited, coded in my genes. Not only that, but I’ve also watched my mom fall in and out over the years with the same sort of reckless regard for her own well-being, always one-upping her last disaster with a bigger one and hoping for the biggest payoff.
It’s only since she started dating her latest boyfriend that she’s calmed that part of herself. But inside, I know she’s never gotten that payoff. She struggled for years to find a man to give her those feelings but instead settled. She gave up, and we both know it.
Even though I vowed to be different from my mother in the way I live my life, we have the same disease. We crave the all-consuming, soul-stealing, drama-filled romances that are destined to end badly. I inherited my heart from her, and it’s relentless.
Though I’m fearful, I can’t give up. Finding love is the mecca of what I dream for myself. I have other dreams, dreams enough to hold me. A fulfilling career is a no-brainer but finding that once-in-a-lifetime love is non-negotiable. While my life has been riddled with shitty examples, I still believe it exists.
My greatest hope is to be in all-consuming love. My biggest fear is to be in all-consuming love.
Sean brought out that thirsty girl, only to dry her hopes in the next breath.
Some part of me already knows falling for Sean will end badly. I feel way too much already—way too much for just a month.
But isn’t that what I want?
Maybe for now, I should just listen to the voice of reason in my head, instead of the addict in my heart. The voice that tells me there are relationships out there filled with just as much passion that don’t have to result in bloodletting.
The truth is, taking this stance has been hell. I miss him horribly.
But I’ll stand on principle because to hell with playing the fool. Sean was right in another sense. If I don’t stick up for myself early, I’m setting a low bar.
So mad I’ll remain.
Fucking men.
I stab at my food, my mood shit as I glare at the side of Roman’s head.
Lamb chops with mint sauce and rosemary potatoes. It’s the most pretentious dinner I can think of. I hate lamb. Roman returns my gaze, unflinching as I stare at him with his own arctic eyes. He’s handsome as far as older men go, and for a second, I wonder what he looked like when my mother met him. Was he as charming as Sean, just as disarming? Did he play the game of trust me before he hurt her? Or did his cold exterior only intrigue her to the point she couldn’t resist him? She’s never told me the details of their story, even though I’ve asked multiple times. She refuses to visit that part of her life, and I assume because it’s painful. If being his daughter is this uncomfortable, I can only imagine what being the woman in his life was like.
“Is there something wrong with your food, Cecelia?”
“I don’t like lamb.”
“You liked it when you were younger.”
“I tolerated it to please you.”
“I see we aren’t in the business of pleasing our father anymore.”
“I’ve grown up. I prefer to eat what I enjoy.”
