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“I’m about to head upstairs and sleep. What are we doing for dinner?” Jasper utters.
“We’re going to cook dinner tonight,” Atlas says.
I’m jealous of Rachael’s beauty. She seems like she comes from a wealthy family and has her shit together. She also has confidence in herself, which I lack.
Once Jasper is out of earshot, I trail behind Atlas to the kitchen and lean against the marble counter as he takes a skillet from under the brown cabinet and places it on the stove.
“What happened between you and Rachael?”
He opens the door to the pantry, grabs a bottle of olive oil, and pours a little into the skillet. The oil sizzles and pops.
“Nothing, really, I took her on a few dates and we fucked twice.”
I shouldn’t be jealous of her. She’s beautiful and has everything else to offer him, whereas I don’t have anything. It’s stupid, but Atlas deserves someone better than me. Someone who knows themselves and is as confident as he is. I don’t even look like the type of woman he usually dates.
I fold my arms and rock on the heels of my ankle boots. “Why didn’t you want to pursue anything with her?”
He opens the fridge to remove fresh salmon from a packet, and sprinkles lime juice and different seasonings onto the meats. Once he places the meat into the skillet, he turns around, placing both of his palms onto the counter, closing me in. My pulse accelerates, and adrenaline rushes through my blood.
“Are you jealous?”
“Actually, I am.”
He picks me up and sets me on the counter, sliding between my legs, before he taps my nose. “Why?”
“Because… Well, I’m no—”
“If you say anything about your looks, I swear to God, Lake, we’re going to have a fucking problem.” He leans forward, brushing a kiss against my scar, and I want to burst into tears. “Your scar is beautiful, like you,” he exhales. “You’re down on yourself too much, and I don’t like it.”
A lump forms in my throat. “You’re not good enough for me anymore. That’s what Carter said to me when he broke up with me. The only reason why he wanted to marry me was because of my beauty, and because I looked good on his arms. He cared too much about his image. Like most wealthy people do,” I sigh. “He said it the minute the bandage was unwrapped from my face and the cut was still fresh. Finding out from him that the money was a bonus and he meant what he said hurt even more. I don’t know why it still hurts because I don’t love him anymore.”
“When did he tell you that?”
“I called him after we had lunch with my dad.”
He yanks me into his arms and kisses my hair. “I’m sorry, Boots. I really am.”
“It isn’t your fault.”
What happens if Atlas does the same thing to me? Make me feel as if I don’t deserve love, leave me when I’m falling in love with him, hoping we have a future. He might not seem that way now, but people change when they’re faced with a crisis. I shake my head and tuck my thoughts away. No need to be a negative Nancy. I’m here to enjoy my vacation.
“I should have punched him when I had the chance to,” he says through gritted teeth. “How did it happen? The car accident.”
“Well… my mother called me and wanted to talk. She told me she and my father had an argument and he was leaving her for Nicole. She was our maid at the time. She told me she found text messages between the two of them, and when she confronted him about it, that’s when he told her he felt dead and he wanted Nicole.
“She was drinking that night. She asked me to go for a drive, and I agreed. I didn’t want to go home because I didn’t want to fight with my father. She picked me up from Carter’s apartment, and… I had no idea she was drunk. I remember rain coming down hard on the windshield, and she went off on a tangent about my father and how much betrayal she felt. Then she lost control of the wheel and she swirled off the road before we hit a tree. It landed on us, crushing the hood of the car.
“I tried to wake my mom but she didn’t wake up, so I called the police before I passed out.” I close my eyes, rubbing the side of my temple. “I remember the pain and blood dripping on my face. I remember waking up in and out of consciousness because of the surgery, and I missed people coming to see me when I was feeling dazed. I remember looking at myself in the mirror and the doctor telling me the scar was permanent. I remember going to see my mother lying in the bed and not moving. It was too much to observe for me.” Tears slither down my cheeks like waterfalls and pain pinches in my chest as if rocks are weighing me down. “When the doctor unwrapped my face in front of Carter, he looked at me in pure disgust, like I was the ugliest thing he ever saw.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could have been there more for you, Boots.” He kisses my forehead, and my lips, then his large arms wrap around me like a snake.
“You were there. You sent me lilies. When I wasn’t doped up on drugs, they brought joy every day, and that eased my heartache. How often did you come up there to see me?”
“Every single day, until you were fully awake.” He strokes my lips with his thumb, and as his gaze meets mine, he pulls away, turning to the stove to flip the salmon. “You never told me the reason why you came up there to sit with me.”
He lifts my chin. “Because I l—”
“The food smells delicious.” Rachael waltzes into the kitchen and grabs a wineglass and a bottle of wine. “What’s for dinner?”
