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Troy leaned back on the bench like the weight on his shoulders from a minute ago had collided into his chest, making it hard to breathe. A baby. He swallowed razors. Was it his? He’d used protection with Michelle, but these things were never one hundred percent.
Mateo gave him a sideway glance. “Relax, it’s mine.”
A pang of relief coursed through him, relaxing his muscles a bit. If she’d been pregnant with his baby, he could kiss rebuilding a relationship with Mateo goodbye. He’d never thought about making a woman pregnant. Though if he were ever to… he’d much more prefer to make a baby with someone who he cared about. Someone he admired and put him in his place. His pulse went on a low simmer. Someone like Lara.
But this isn’t about my hypothetical child, he remembered. He gave his brother shoulder a squeeze. “Congrats, Mateo. You’ll be a great dad.”
Mateo looked down at the grass. “Our marriage is in the toilet. I don’t know if we’ll make great parents to a kid.”
“I’m sorry to hear.”
Mateo waved him off. “It’s been like that for a while. Michelle is excited about the pregnancy. She thinks it’s a sign to turn a new leaf for us.”
“It could be. Why don’t you act like she’s right and see what happens?” he asked. “Take a chance.” A young woman with a baby in tow and a small dog following her like he was the bouncer of a nightclub strolled by. Troy glanced at his brother—soon, he’d have a baby. He truly hoped that Mateo and Michelle sorted things out. The baby would be lucky to have two caring parents like them.
“Like you are with Lara, by letting her leave while you stay here and bitch about it?” Mateo said dryly, but his words rang true.
“My case is different.” A band tightened around his chest. “In a way, I pressured her into marrying me,” Troy said, not wanting to overwhelm his brother with information about Miguel and Conor. Besides, he didn’t want his brother knowing Conor had blackmailed Troy and possibly going to talk to him. That would only complicate things further. “But she’s too good for me. She doesn’t act like it at all, but I feel it. She’s kind, and generous, smart and always speaks her mind.”
“Interesting. You said that she said something you weren’t ready to hear, and now you compliment her for speaking her mind. You’ll go after her if you have an ounce of common sense. She’s a terrific woman, and I’ve seen how she looks at you.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re an asshole, but she loves you anyway.”
A chuckle floated up his throat. Mateo had a point. Whether he was right or not about her loving him, Lara had been supportive and true. She’d been his ride or die, even when he pushed her away.
She’d been caring, generous, and so, so… lovely.
“I love her too,” he said out loud, the words parting from his mouth like he had no saying in it. Except, he realized with his heart beating fast, he agreed with them.
“Good for you,” Mateo said.
I have to tell her. He had to step up, even if she didn’t feel the same way. What if she didn’t? Possible. He’d been an ass.
But he had to do it anyway, and be strong for all the times he hadn’t been—he wasn’t the insecure little boy who fell and went to his mom for attention anymore. That boy had dictated too much of his life already. He was a man, whose only ache would be his heart if she didn’t take him back—and this time, for good.
* * *
“Wow. So you’re not really married?” Brit asked.
Lara shuffled in her chair. She shouldn’t have told Brit, as she breached the confidentiality clause of their contract. But damn it, she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. She’d already kept it from her mother, which had been hard. And from her brother, who had finally called earlier. Miguel had questioned her marrying Troy, and told her she’d been a fool to fall for Troy—all true, and it spared her from telling Miguel the whole truth and making him feel bad for being the cause of all this.
But today was Sunday, a day after she’d left LA, and the last twenty-four hours had certainly not made her less anxious or sad about the turn of events.
Lara stood, pacing around her living room, while Brit stayed in the couch, eyes still glittering after listening to all events. “I’m married legally, and I guess emotionally, and no doubt sexually, but it’s all on my end.”
Brit took the glass of lemonade to her lips, then leaned and grabbed some of the chips and queso she’d brought when Lara called her crying, begging her to come see her. “How can it be sexually on your end? Like you masturbated to him and he did jack shit?”
Lara suppressed a chuckle. “No, we had sex. But I’ve fallen for him and he prefers to give some creep two fucking properties than coming clean to his dad,” she said, sadness leaking in her voice again. Because he doesn’t care about me. She’d thought he did for a moment and believed they were getting somewhere. But actions spoke louder than words, especially the mean ones he’d thrown her way.
Ever since the beginning of their marriage, nothing had changed for him, and everything had changed for her. He’d given her not just her sexual empowerment back, but she’d foolishly believed in love again. Even against her intuition and her track record. Hell, even against his advice.
She’d hoped. And now, here she was, drinking a jug of margarita and wallowing in regret.
“Maybe he’ll come around?”
“He had the chance to come around when I talked to him.”
