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“Okay!” The sound of feet slapping against the wood stairs echoes off the tall ceilings.
Lana doesn’t speak until a door clicks closed in the distance. “She’s gone now, so you can stop pretending to be asleep.”
I stare up at the chandelier. “Is she—” No matter how hard I try, I can’t finish the sentence. Lana never seemed like the type to hide a secret like this, but people do crazy things to protect the ones they love, especially from those that will hurt them.
Maybe that’s why Grandpa gave Lana the deed to the house. He could have thought I was doing a shitty job supporting my kid, so he took charge.
Assuming he left her the house in the first place.
“Is she what?” Lana presses.
“Mine?”
She blinks. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”
“Just answer me.” My fear morphs into agitation. I’m not quick to give in to my anger, but between the early signs of a headache and learning about a child who I didn’t know existed, my patience is running thin.
“Would it matter if she is?”
Lana’s question feels like a trap, yet I willingly fall into it anyway. “Yes. No. Maybe. Fuck! I don’t know. Is she?” I run my hands through my hair and tug at the strands, making the tender skin throb.
“If you’re actually asking me that, then you must not know me at all.”
I scramble to my feet, ignoring the unsteadiness as I rise to my full height. “What do you expect me to think? It’s not like we left things on good terms the last time we saw each other.”
“So you assume I’d keep your child away from you because of my personal feelings?”
“Either that or you moved on pretty damn fast from the sound of it.” It’s an awful thing to say. An angry, judgmental, stupid-as-fuck statement that I regret the moment it comes out. I can’t even blame alcohol this time, which only makes my outburst that much worse.
The temperature in the room drops.
“Get out,” she whispers.
I remain frozen in place. “Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I mean, I know why I said it, but I shouldn’t have—”
“Get the hell out of my house before I call the cops to escort you out themselves.” She turns away from me. The way her shoulders shake with each deep exhale adds to the churning sensation in my stomach.
“Alana—”
She turns on her heels and points at the door.“¡Lárgate!”
I don’t need Google Translate to help me out with that one.
I hold my hands up in submission. “Okay. I’m leaving now.”
You’re just going to go without getting any answers?
As opposed to what?The Lana I knew needed to calm down before she came around to talking. I learned a long time ago that if I pushed her too hard too soon, she would only shove me further away.
I grab the handle of my suitcase and walk out the front door.
“Wait.”
I pause on the doormat, my feet pressing into the fadedsin postre no entranletters.
“Give me the spare key.” She steps forward and holds out her hand.
Herringlessleft hand.
