by Lee, Nadia
I stare at her in shock. Give up on him? Is that what I’m doing? All this time I thought I was giving him a better option. Somebody who wouldn’t be a burden to him in the end.
But she’s right. I’m being a quitter. I’m not giving us a chance because of something that might not happen at all.
It’s scary as hell to seize what I want, though. But isn’t it worse to give up on David? He already knows my history and wants me anyway. She’s right. What I’m doing isn’t fair to him. Or me.
“Now come on,” Mrs. Darling says. “Let’s take you home. Virginia is much too muggy to stay out in the summer, sweetie. Even in the evening.”
She positions herself behind me, places her hands on my shoulders and steers me toward the passenger side of her car. After opening the door, she gently pushes me into the seat and shuts the door.
“Buckle up,” she says as she goes around to the driver’s side. “And you might want to text David to let him know we’ll be home soon. No telling what he’ll do otherwise.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Erin
David’s pacing outside his parents’ home. The streetlights show the tight lines of his face, the grim set of his mouth. No other Darlings are around, probably because he looks like a restless tiger ready to rip apart the first person who crosses his path.
The second Mrs. Darling’s car stops in the driveway, he rushes over. He barely acknowledges his mom. He comes straight for me, pulls me out of the car and hugs me like he’s never letting go.
I squeeze him back, hear the thundering of his heart. God, it feels like I’m exactly where I belong, forever. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have taken off like that.”
He pulls away, his hands on my upper arms. His fingers flex against my bare skin, and the muscles in his jaw bunch and jump.
It’s the beginning of a temper explosion. I’ve seen it with my dad many times, when it meant time to retreat. Or at least be worried. But somehow I’m not concerned now. Because at the end of the day, David’s angry because he’s worried about me. He cares about me.
“You shouldn’t have left,” he says in a tight voice.
“Yeah. I…just said that.”
He opens his mouth like he wants to yell, then clicks it shut. His shoulders sag a little. “Shelly won’t be a problem again. I promise you that.”
“I know.” I inhale deeply. “Your mom said you know about my mom, but did you know she killed herself, too?” Nerves flutter in my gut. I need to get this all out before I lose courage. “Everyone said she did it because she was crazy, and I don’t want to end up like that. And it’s a huge burden for the family to take care of somebody who struggled like that.”
David looks like he wants to murder somebody. “Is that what you think, or what your dad and Fordham tell you?”
“What?” Why is David bringing up my dad and Warren? “That’s…”
She’s the cross I have to bear.
Dad’s words echo in my head. He said that to his secretary, who giggled in reply.
“That’s what I overheard my dad say,” I respond, as resentment toward my father grows inside me. “I never thought Mom was a burden.”
David’s shoulders relax a little. “Because you loved her.”
I nod. I loved her more than anybody. She was my world, and even though she had her outbursts and struggles, I wanted her to be with me forever.
Is this how David feels about me too? That no matter what happens in the future, we should be together?
“I love you too, Erin. I already told you that. And fuck the people who said you’re going to turn out like your mom. I don’t believe it. You’re the sanest person I know, the sweetest. They’re just jealous. Or maybe trying to control you with fear. Don’t let them brainwash you. Just focus on me. On my love for you.”
Hot emotions wash over me. I feel light, like I’ve shed a suit made of lead. I stand straight, then reach out and hold David’s hands, my eyes on his gorgeous, serious face.
“You remember the question you asked me this afternoon?” My words come out in a shaky whisper.
He nods.
“I never gave you an answer.”
He pauses for a moment. “Well, we…” He glances over at his mother. “No, you didn’t, did you?”
This is a huge step. If I take it, it means David and I are making a lifelong commitment. But I don’t want to give up on us. We deserve better.
The nerves that fluttered in my belly are flying upward, like butterflies released from a cage. I inhale, then tighten my hold on his hands. “Yes.”
A blinding smile splits David’s face, then he’s cradling my cheeks and kissing me like I’ve just handed him the keys to the universe.
I vaguely hear his family clapping and laughing and cheering us on. And I know that I’ve found what I’ve been looking for all my life.
* * *
We have dinner. The food has gotten a little cold, but everyone shows a hearty appetite. Warm conversation and laughter flow as readily as the beer and wine.
Jan’s the only one dabbing her eyes. “David really deserves the best. And you came back.”
“Were his options that bad?” I joke, although I’m touched that she thinks I’m the best David deserves. And she’s not the only one. Mrs. Darling was doing the cabbage patch dance on the lawn when David and I finally ended our kiss, and Alexandra hugged me hard and air-kissed my cheeks.
“No. I’m just so emotional now.” Jan fans her blotchy face, looking upward to stop the flow of tears. “It’s the hormones.”
Matt smiles and wraps an arm around her. “She’s going to be fine.”
“Yeah, I am.” Jan nods. “I’m just happy. Did I say I’m happy?”
I nod with a wide grin. “You just did.”
“I want a sausage,” Jan says to Matt. “With extra mustard.”
“Coming right up.”
I smile, then lean my head against David’s shoulder. “Your family’s amazing.”
He takes my hand and kisses my fingertips, his lips warm and sweet. “Thank you for not giving up on us.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
David
I open my eyes. The bedside clock says it isn’t even nine yet, but Erin’s gone. Where did she go?
I sit up and look around, raking my fingers through my hair. Get a whiff of freshly baked brownies. And I know.
With a grin, I put on a shirt and shorts and make my way down to the kitchen. Mom and Erin are taking baking pans out of the oven.
Erin looks up and smiles after placing the hot pan she’s holding on the cooling rack. “Good morning.”
“Morning. I was wondering what you were doing up so early.”
“Not so early,” Mom says, placing her pan next to Erin’s. “I was showing Erin how to make brownies.”
I put a hand to my chest. “You gave her your recipe?”
“Obviously. Recipes are handed from generation to generation.”
“Wow. You said your recipes were secret and I wasn’t worthy.” Although I’m feigning pain, I’m thrilled Mom and Erin are bonding so well.
Erin flushes with a smile she can’t suppress.
“But Erin is.” Mom is both shameless and unrelenting. “Besides, she told me she loves baking. You don’t. But at least you’re good at cleaning up afterward. That’s something.”
I know a hint when I hear one. “Want me to wash the bowls?”
“Why, yes, that would be very nice.”
“But first…” I pull out a fork from a drawer and reach for the brownies cooling on the rack.
“No, no!” Erin slaps my hand, not hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough to deter me. “You have to wait at least half an hour or it’s going to fall apart.”
“You’re a cruel woman.” I sigh, even though she’s right and I really should wait. But damn it, I haven’t had Mom’s brownies in ages.
“Listen to your fiancée,” Mom says as she starts up the stairs. “I need to g
o wake your father up. Now be good and wash the bowls.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I start washing, since if I don’t, I’m not getting a bite.
The doorbell rings, and I glance in that direction. It’s early for visitors. And even if it’s about the party, it’s at Grandma’s place, not here.
“I’ll get it,” Erin says as I rinse the last of the bowls and put the spoons in the dishwasher.
I follow her out in case it’s Shelly—unlikely, but you never know—or Mrs. Morris. I’m not letting Erin experience another round of “Isn’t this awkward and inappropriate” with anybody from my past.
But the person at the door is a man I’ve never seen before. A tall, brown-haired fellow with wide-set hazel eyes. He’s dressed in a crisp suit, his back straight. Disapproval gathers like storm clouds in his gaze as he glares at Erin.
My hackles rise. Who the hell is he to look at Erin like that?
“Dad…?” she whispers.
Dad? I study him more carefully. This is the man who told Erin she was going to end up like her mother, when instead she needed his support and love. Nobody else could’ve destroyed her sense of security and self so effectively.
As though noticing my scrutiny, he looks up. The rebuke in his eyes melts away, replaced by a calculated warmth and precise smile that reminds me of a high-earning used-car salesman.
What a creep.
“You must be David Darling.” He comes forward, past Erin, and extends his hand. “I’m Bill Clare. Erin’s dad.”
Pasting on my most polite smile, I wrap my hand around his, my grip tight enough to grind his bones together, then pump twice, while linking my other hand with Erin. I’m here. You aren’t alone.
“What are you doing here?” Erin asks, her voice a bit unsteady.
“Oh, nothing much. I heard about Alexandra Darling’s party, and her assistant sent me an invitation.”
Ophelia’s too sharp to send one to him. More like he called and begged his way in. Or maybe he thought he could just crash the event. He wouldn’t be the first to try.
“Did she?” I say, but I don’t invite him in. “Then you know the party isn’t here and you’re way too early.”
His expression remains the same. Shameless jerk. “Well, sure. But I wanted to see you. And my daughter.”
Erin tenses. I run my thumb along the back of her hand, communicating silent support.
“I understand you two are engaged now.” His tone’s mildly chiding, but he adds, “That’s excellent. She’s lucky to have you.”
Erin’s mouth is tight, her good humor from spending the morning baking with Mom gone. For that alone, my hate for him increases tenfold. “We’re lucky to have each other.”
“You must love her a lot.”
Her neck muscles harden so fast that I’m afraid she might pull something.
“Of course I do. Why else would I marry her?” I say coldly.
He laughs. It’s the laugh people laugh when they don’t quite believe you.
Asshole. I fantasize about punching him.
“I was thinking,” he starts. “I’m pretty sure Erin already told you about it—”
“Dad, don’t!” Erin says, her face bright red now.
He plows on like she hasn’t said a word. Or maybe he isn’t listening because he doesn’t consider her important. A big mistake. “Don’t you think it’d be great for you to help my campaign?” He flings a bright smile at me. “She would certainly want you to. After all, it’s for everyone’s good that I win the special election. Think about the future.”
Now I see why his presence offends me, why he seems so smarmy. He’s not just a politician, but a politician who wants my money and is willing to use the daughter he’s been browbeating all her life to get it.
Shifting her weight, Erin looks away, her gaze darting away from him to the ceiling, then the floor, then to the garden outside.
“The future, huh?” I make a noise deep in my throat, like I’m thinking. “What specific future are you referring to?”
“Well. You know about Erin and her…upcoming mental breakdown, to put it bluntly. She must’ve told you…?”
It takes all my effort to remain calm. What’s wrong with him that he’s talking about her like she isn’t here, when she’s standing right in front of him?
He rubs his hands together. The gesture reminds me of a fly sitting on a pile of dog shit. “If you have a good prenup, she won’t be too much of a burden to you. I’ll make sure of it. And that’s just one of many future favors I can guarantee.”
Jesus. Not a single word for Erin. And I’m certain he doesn’t plan on taking care of her if his daughter happens to need help.
Erin’s stiffer than a board next to me. Humiliation and anger vibrate through her, and the skin around her eyes is red like she’s holding back tears.
My heart breaks for her, as rage rips through me. How the hell did she survive with people like this as her family? I wonder briefly if her mom went into depression because she was married to this subhuman piece of shit, not because she was mentally ill like he claims.
Not to mention, I hate this asshole for preying on Erin’s deepest fear, turning her into a victim. “That’s an offensive proposition. No.”
He does a double take. “What?”
“I mean I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to win. And I also don’t think it’ll be a good idea for me to do a thing. Go away, and don’t ever try to push your snout back into our lives again. And don’t try contacting my family. If you bother any of us, I’ll make sure we give our maximum support to whoever’s running against you.”
His face takes on an unhealthy shade of red. Hope he doesn’t expect me to call 911 if he pops a vein, because I’m going to be too busy dancing. “What?”
“Was I not clear?” I say. “You’ll need to imagine your daughter’s future, because you’re not in it. Now, we need to get ready for the party. Erin, do you have anything to say to your dad before he goes back to wherever he came from?”
Erin tightens her hold on me. “What David said, Dad. Just go and never come back,” she says, her voice taut.
He turns on her in a flash, eyes wide and nostrils flaring like a bull about to charge. “You think you’re somebody important now, huh? Who’s going to be by your side when you’re old and out of your mind?”
I start to step between him and Erin. He doesn’t get to talk like that to her. In fact, no one—
“Fuck off,” Erin says.
Shock and admiration stop me in my tracks.
“What did you say?” Bill demands, his face now purple. Maybe he already popped that vein.
“I said. Fuck. Off. And when you’re done fucking off, go fuck further off.”
He starts shaking, then spins on his heel and stalks away. “You’ll be sorry!” he yells before we close the door behind him.
Erin lets out an unsteady breath and collapses against me.
“You okay?” I say.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She looks up at me with a small smile. “I… I didn’t mean to say it quite like that, but I couldn’t help it. Not when he spoke about our future like it’s set in stone.”
“He deserved every word,” I say, kissing her. “And I had shivers go up my spine when you got all confident and assertive.”
The twinkle slowly returns to her gorgeous blue gaze. “Did you?”
“Yup. There’s a reason I fell in love with you.”
“My F-bombs?”
I laugh. “Nope. That you’re the type to really commit when you make up your mind. I’m just glad you decided to be mine.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Erin
–three months later
“What are we doing in Miami?” I ask as David drives our rental car along the road. He said it was a surprise trip, but I don’t understand why we’re driving further away from the beach. Aren’t we staying at some beachfront resort? Isn’t that what people do in Florida?
&nbs
p; Then again, if we’re going to do a beach resort, we could’ve just stayed in California…
“Clarifying something that should’ve been clarified years ago,” David says.
“Like what?”
“You’ll see.”
He drives into a huge…retirement community? The sign boasts of a sprawling golf course.
“Uh… David?”
“Yeah?”
“We aren’t here to check out retirement options for Alexandra, are we?” I’ve never heard her mention wanting to take it easy or retire.
He chokes. “Don’t even think that, much less say it! She’ll kill me if she hears you. Besides, she’ll work forever. I guarantee my dad’s going to retire before she does.” Then he quickly adds, “And my parents plan to stay in Virginia.”
Okay. So this isn’t about anybody’s retirement. So what is it?
David drives along, slowing in front of each blindingly white building.
“What are we looking for?” I ask.
“Number six.” Then he grins. “Right there.”
He parks the car in front of the unit, and we climb out. Weirder and weirder.
“Come on,” he says.
He takes my hand and leads me around the building. I tag along, feeling like ice cream on hot asphalt. People say hot air rises. They lied. Or else the laws of physics don’t work in Florida, because the heat here isn’t just oppressive, it’s actually heavy. I feel like my shoulders are being weighed down by anvils or something.
Hot anvils, straight from some oven in hell.
An old man is watering herbs. He’s tall, his hands large. Tufts of white hair make a half-ring around his otherwise hairless head.
I study him. Something is vaguely familiar, but I don’t know anybody in Miami. I’ve never even been to Florida until now.
“Dr. Shear?” David says.
I gape. “Dr. Shear…?” That’s my mother’s old doctor. How did David find him? And why?
The man straightens and looks at David. “Yes?” The doctor’s voice is kind but authoritative. His eyes reflect an intellectual sharpness that would make most college students weep with envy. Then he squints at me.
