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She pursed her lips, and a sour expression took over her face. “I’ll order a car service. I don’t care what you tell your parents. You can stay, but I can’t be with you another minute.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, even though a part of him already knew it. He only didn’t want to admit it.
“I mean the deal is off.”
He stepped toward her, but she lifted a hand and he reared back. “You can’t do that. We had a deal—”
Tears glistened in her eyes, but she wiped them, then took a long breath. Quickly, she recomposed and eyed him with regret. He knew all about regret and hated seeing it on her face. She reached for her bag and dropped some items in it, then looked at him one last time. “We did, and I’ve been holding my end of the bargain. But I’m sorry. I can’t marry you again, in front of my family and friends and make it a lie when deep in my heart I don’t want it to be. Goodbye, Troy.”
13
Troy cleared his throat. He’d texted Mateo earlier, asking him to meet in a neighborhood park near his residence. He didn’t want to talk to Mateo with Michelle close by, or his parents. Hell, it’d been hard enough to lie to his parents.
He’d said a work emergency had taken Lara away, the day before. Some flooding issue in her office, and she had to return and deal with the plumbers. He’d stayed one more day to clear his head.
What the hell would he say when Lara didn’t return? Ever?
The wedding that wouldn’t take place.
His heart thrummed in his chest. He slammed the door of his car, clicked on the key alarm to lock it and walked up to an empty bench. The sunny Sunday morning had brought people outdoors. Some kids played in the sandbox, and parents—or their nannies, given how upscale this neighborhood was—strolled their babies and walked their fluffy dogs.
Sighing, he plopped down on the bench. Maybe his brother wouldn’t show up. He probably asked too much too soon, and couldn’t blame Mateo for not coming. But he couldn’t think of anyone else to talk to.
He closed his eyes, rubbing his lids, hoping for a calmer energy. He’d been up all night, thinking of all she’d said—that he basically had mommy issues. All along.
Cold sweat sheened his forehead. Why hadn’t he been more open to her opinion? Why had he acted so defensively when she’d just tried to help him?
The image of Lara’s face formed in his mind, and he opened his eyes with a start.
She’s right, he thought to himself. All of his mistakes were his fault, but behind them lay the desire to conquer his mother’s love. She loved him, she did. But, growing up, he never felt it much. Especially after his brother was born, their mom had seemed overwhelmed easily, and quickly turned to his father for the decision making part.
His father had taken to parenthood like a duck to water, and even if he worked in illicit business, he gladly stepped up whenever he could and became the go-to parent.
His mother was like a shadow in the background. A delicate presence that could disappear at any moment.
Troy rubbed his forehead. Fuck. He’d expected his mother to be more like the other kids’ moms, or the ones he saw in the movies. And since he didn’t get that warmth, the abundant care, he subconsciously made sure he’d get her attention—one way or another.
Hell, he’d broken his leg skating twice—and he didn’t even enjoy skating. He’d told himself he did, but now he could see what he enjoyed was the care she gave him when he was injured or ill. Maybe she felt bad then—that she wasn’t watching, and gave him the love he’d craved. As soon as he felt better, she returned to her shell, carefully yet firmly.
Sadness filled his chest, welling up and making his throat coarse and thick. He’d lived all that, but processing it, thinking about it exposed fresh wounds.
Still. Getting mad at Lara hadn’t been cool when she meant well. She’d wanted him to face these problems, these issues he’d ignored for so long. “She was right,” he said out loud, needing to voice it and hear himself even more clearly.
“Who’s right?” asked Mateo, sitting next to him at the bench. “I come here and find you lost in thought. I waved, but you didn’t even blink.”
Troy popped his knuckles. He shouldn’t take advantage of the recently small token of truce his brother had offered, but damn it, he needed to talk to someone. If he didn’t, he’d follow Lara’s recommendation and go straight to his father and ruin all he’d worked so hard for. He’d come clean, and his parents would not only be disappointed at him, but they’d also probably make him cut ties with the family business.
He had more than plenty of money of his own, but he’d worked so hard to take his father’s place for good. Losing Lara, his career and his family with would be the end for him. “Lara. She told me some stuff I wasn’t ready to hear. Then she left me.”
Mateo removed his sunglasses and gave him a good look. “Smart move.”
The weight of a large cement block sat on Troy’s shoulders. Maybe he’d been wrong. He’d been so desperate to talk about it with someone, he’d texted his brother. But he’d tried to rekindle their relationship way too early, obviously. He should really just go—
A hearty chuckle snapped him from his self-pity. “C’mon, man, relax. I’m here, aren’t I?” He patted Troy on the back.
“Yes, you are, which makes me wonder why?”
The playfulness vanished from Mateo’s face. He shuffled on the seat, looking ahead. “Michelle is pregnant.”
