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Lyla squares her shoulder, ready for a showdown. “I told you. I was failing.”
“Why the hell were you failing? Partying too much?”
“No. I wasn’t partying. The classes were hard, and I…I lost my motivation to go to them, to try, knowing I was going to fail no matter what.”
“So you’re done, just like that?” I ask her.
“Yes. For now. Maybe…maybe I’ll go back in the fall.”
We both know that’s a big crock of shit.
“What are you gonna do with yourself until then, huh? Mope around the house? Sleep all day?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll start looking for a job.”
“Not gonna be easy to find a job with only three-quarters of a degree in fucking charity work.”
“Isaac,” my mother warns, her lips in a hard line as she glares at me.
“I just don’t understand why it costs so damn much for a degree that won’t earn you squat!”
“I’m not getting into that argument with you again, Dad!” Lyla says as she shoves her chair back and gets to her feet. “Can I stay here or not?”
Closing my eyes, I do more deep-breathing exercises. When I finally open them and look at her, I see the worry in those green eyes, as if she thinks I would actually kick her out on her ass when I would gladly take a bullet for her to keep her safe. “This is your home. Why wouldn’t you stay here?”
“Because you’re angry that I dropped out, that I wasted all that tuition money.”
“Fuck the money,” I tell her, even if it was a gigantic chunk of our savings wasted. “You’re safe and home. You’re not pregnant, are you?”
Her shoulders sag with relief as she rolls her eyes, “No, Dad, I’m not pregnant.”
“No drug addictions I should know about?”
“Nope. No drug addictions either.”
“You came home because you were unhappy?”
“Isn’t that a good enough reason?” my mother huffs.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” I agree.
And now that makes two of us that are unhappy.
I hadn’t realized how much I had enjoyed the thrill of getting a text from Holly, even a sexy photo, until it hits me that I won’t be getting any more. How much I’ll miss seeing her on her knees, miss her taste, her eager little moans.
Holly may have been insistent, manipulative even to get me to give in to her, but I know she wouldn’t dare risk Lyla finding out about us now that she’s home.
It’s for the best anyway.
The girl may have said she just wanted sex when we both know she wanted more. A husband. A family. Things that I will never be able to give her.
It’s for the best that it’s done, for all of us.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Holly
Six months later…
