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“I’m too old to eat like a kid. Plus, I did a lot of cooking growing up, helping out my mom.” He shrugged and grabbed a few more things from the pantry before turning back around. “I like cooking. Reminds me of home.”
“Which is Oakland, right?”
“A little bit outside of the city, but yeah. Mom still lives there, runs a non-profit that my brother and I started once we could afford it.”
“And your dad?”
“I don’t think it's any secret that I grew up without my dad. He bailed on us when I was young.” He was annoyed by the question. It was one I shouldn’t have asked. But he assumed I had read up and knew his history, when in reality, I never had. I knew more about his soccer stats than his personal life.
“I’ve never looked you up. I mean, about your personal life. Not that deep, anyway.”
He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but I could tell bringing up his dad was a sore subject. I understood that all too well, because I dodged his questions about my parents like a boxer in a ring, bobbing and weaving. I hated talking about them. It was humiliating.
That may have been what he felt as well and I found myself opening my mouth to share more than I planned to just so he knew I could relate.
“I don't know who my dad is,” I confessed. He froze and looked up from the cutting board where he was chopping vegetables.
“I don't want that to be my one question,” he smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
“I think we are past that.” I rolled my eyes, giving up on our little game. “We said just one kiss, too. See where that got us?”
He went back to chopping as he laughed at my reasoning. He didn’t ask for more information, but it felt good relating to him, talking to him. “My mother didn’t want me so she gave me to my grandparents. Since she didn't know who my dad was, I just assumed she fucked so many people she really didn’t know.”
“You know where she is now?”
“She doesn’t contact me unless she needs something. Especially since my grandparents died. But I can’t stand the sight of her. I’m determined to be better than her in every way. I never want to rely on her or need her. It's been a while since I’ve even seen her and I’m a much better person when she isn’t around.”
Rhys pulled a pan out and turned the stove on, brushing the vegetables from the cutting board into hot oil. He grabbed an onion and started working on it, not immediately responding. He seemed to be mulling it over, barely focused on his task.
When the silence became too much, I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “I hope you aren’t thinking how pathetic I am.”
He huffed and shook his head, not looking up until he finished his last slice of the onion. “I was actually thinking about how alike we are.”
ChapterTwenty-Six
Rhys
When Mel left, I knew every woman that came after her would be subjected to my private appraisal. Ash was my first attempt at life after Mel, and even though we weren’t more than what we were, I still made the private comparison.
Surprisingly, the more I was around Ash, the more flaws I realized Mel had. She never let me cook for her. She liked eating out or having someone cook for us. She would have never sat in front of me looking freshly fucked in nothing but my t-shirt. I couldn’t even remember her looking thoroughly fucked. She always got right up and fixed her hair and makeup, insisting that she always be put together. I didn’t want her put together, I wanted her like Ash—looking satisfied thanks to a few lewd rounds with my dick.
As Ash told me about her parents, I realized we had a lot in common which was another difference I had with Mel. I never got to meet them, but Mel told me her parents were doctors, like she was. Well off, warm, and loving. She used to tell me she wanted a family just like she had growing up, and her goals aligning with mine was why I fell for her.
But there was something to be said for connecting with someone that knew how it felt to be missing a parent, to grow up with very little, and who used their love of soccer to claw their way to a better future. We both let our absent parents define our goals. I wanted to prove mine wrong; she wanted to avoid the mistakes all together.
Even though Ash and I were at different places in our lives, and had different paths for our futures, she was reminding me that letting go of what I thought I had with Mel was possible.
“I take a lot of shit in the locker room for wanting to settle down and raise a family.” Our conversation had carried over to the living room as we ate the pasta I had thrown together. Ash had eaten almost every bite and it felt good knowing she loved what I had cooked for her.
“I imagine you do,” she smiled. “You guys can get anyone you want. Why settle?”
“See? That gets old after a while. Cruz, for example, he’s a few years older than you. Has a different girl in his bed every night. In ten years, he’s gonna be exhausted.”
She laughed and shook her head, placing her plate onto the coffee table. “Everyone has their own goals, their own dreams, and their own paths. But Cruz may wake up tomorrow with one of those girls he was taking pictures with tonight and be in love.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy to think you can always get what you want in this life. I was never like Cruz. I was always hoping my relationships were forever.”
“Until now,” she teased, referring to whatever we were.
