“They don’t take it at the Pinch and Save. I’d have to take a bus downtown to get to the big market.”
“So take a bus. You’re getting assistance that some people deserve and can’t get approved.”
“You saying I don’t deserve my money?”
“I’m saying, be grateful you have what you have and stop being so lazy—”
A mug flew out of her hand, alcohol scented hot tea splashed everywhere as it shattered against the wall. I shielded my face as the ceramic exploded.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shouted.
“Me? What’s wrong with you? I raised my kids. I made sure you were fed and clothed and vaccinated and put into school each year. You come here, in your fancy city clothes and call me lazy?”
“You’d rather beg for money than take a bus so you can access your own! If that’s not lazy, I don’t know what is.”
“Selfish bitch! You’d have nothin’ if not for me.”
Fury raced through my veins as I stared at her in disbelief. “I have nothing because of you! The money I have left, I worked for. I got into college because I wanted it bad enough. You did nothing but berate me since the day I left, too selfish to want something better for me, your daughter. All you ever cared about was yourself! All I’ve ever heard is how your precious boys left you with an ungrateful daughter. Do you ever stop and think they left to get away from you? Look at this place! Why would anyone want to stay here?”
Her face darkened, and she shouted, “You will not disrespect me in my own home!”
“This isn’t a home. It’s a pigsty.”
“And who pays your rent you self-righteous bitch? Whoring ain’t dignified work, Avery Dean. So don’t come here preaching like you’re better than anyone else.”
I snatched my purse off the chair. “I can’t do this anymore. Only a fool would keep offering a helping hand to a mouth that only knows how to bite back. You have no concept of the things I’ve done for you. You’d rather rot in your own filth, living in squalor and waiting on a handout, than try to make something better for yourself. It’s always everyone else’s fault and never yours. Well, I can’t keep saving you.”
“I didn’t ask to be saved! Get out of my house!”
Her words, though expected, hurt. My throat tightened around a lump as I bustled to the door, glancing back one last time to see if I’d forgotten anything. There was nothing.
“Goodbye, Momma.”
“Good riddance. Don’t come crying to me when you need somethin’.” She stumbled into the kitchen, and I stared through the dingy glass on the door before pulling it closed.
She didn’t register the finality of my goodbye. To her, this was just a usual fight with one of her kids, the sort we’d all endured since childhood. But for me, it was the end of everything I was before and the beginning of who I intended to be. It should have felt like a relief walking out of there, but all I felt was a hollow ache in my chest.
As I boarded the bus, I stared straight ahead, too distracted by my thoughts to open the textbook I’d brought. I didn’t breathe a full breath until we were out of the town of Blackwater.
Staring out the window, I watched my reflection play over the passing homes and abandoned properties until we were barreling down an open highway. Catching a tear before it left my eye, I lifted my chin and swallowed against the lump in my throat. I wasn’t going to cry.
Crying meant regret, and this was my decision. I chose to walk away once and for all, and I intended to stick by my decision. I was in control of my destiny. This was my life.
My finger rolled over my phone, opening my contacts. I stared at the number labeled MOM. Taking a deep breath, I blocked it.
I was done.
Still no calls or texts from Noah. I shut my eyes, waiting for the chill to escape my bones. Bit by bit, I cleared my mind, but the problem with removing emotional clutter was it made it a lot easier to notice the emptiness.
Walking back into my apartment building later that night was like coming out of a dream into a reality that had shifted off its axis and no longer felt the same. Everything hinted of change, as though someone came in my absence, moved things around, then put them back as they were.
It was late, and my back cried for my bed. As I approached my door, I stilled. On the floor sat a shoebox. I picked it up and slid back the lid. A pair of mittens—my mittens. A few bobby pins. And my T-shirt.
A piercing stab lanced my heart as I realized what this was. These were the few items I’d left over Noah’s since we had started sleeping together.
Wiping my eyes, I gave up on my fight against the tears. I gave up on everything. I couldn’t handle one more challenge.
Turning, I hurled the box at his door, no longer caring what anyone thought of me. I let myself inside my apartment and slammed the door. When I hit my bed, I truly fell apart.
36
Avery
If not for my clients, the loneliness would have swallowed me whole. David took me to a great show. Christopher introduced me to escargot. Richard was his usual arrogant self. And Micah continued to hint at renegotiating our arrangement, but I continued to evade giving him an answer for reasons I didn’t want to face.
I should accept his offer. It was the only option I had for companionship now that Noah had shunned me. And being with Micah wouldn’t be a total loss. He treated me nice, understood I hadn’t started in this social tier. But I didn’t love him, and I wasn’t sure I ever could.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to fall in love or be loved. These were the sorts of thoughts giving me indigestion of late.
February became a month of preparation. Planning for something better to come seemed the only tolerable distraction I could find. I shopped for teaching clothes, prepared lesson plans, and exercised to the brink of collapse.
I hadn’t seen or heard from Noah in weeks, but it made perfect sense for our paths to cross on Valentine’s Day. My fate was just that cruel.
Waiting for Micah to park his car, I fed my key into the lock only to still at the sound of a door opening. Noah exited his apartment in a rush, just as my door opened. We glanced at each other and stilled, both frozen for a split second.
In his hand, he held a long-stemmed rose. Who was it for? My heart was suddenly in my throat, and as I tried to speak no words came out.
He recovered first, breaking all eye contact and looking away. He locked his door and went to the elevator, leaving me staring after him. I still hadn’t moved as the elevator arrived and it seemed almost poetic that Micah stood on the other side of the doors when they opened.
My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach. If Noah hadn’t been through with me yet, this would certainly do the trick. He didn’t meet my glance as he passed Micah and pressed the button to go down, nor did he utter a word in the other man’s presence.
When the doors closed, leaving only me and my date, my hand trembled trying to pull the key from the lock. Micah and I were going to discuss his offer and come to a final decision. I wasn’t ready, but with the dark place my head had been I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready, but I’d delayed the conversation long enough, and there was really no point in holding onto the past.
How involved did a guy have to be to give someone a rose on Valentine’s Day? My stomach turned, and I quickly pushed all worries about Noah out of my mind.
Micah followed me inside, removing my wrap and I went to the stereo to put on some music. It was starting to snow.
Wandering to the window, I stared down at the street. Who was Noah meeting on Valentine’s Day? Were they serious? He bought her a rose.
Micah brushed a gentle finger down my arm and handed me a glass of wine. “Come sit by the fire, love. It’s cold by the window.”
My feet wouldn’t move. “It’s snowing,” I whispered, an unfamiliar sense of longing filling my chest.
“Tomorrow the streets are going to be a disaster. I can’t wait for spring.”
I used to think the s
ame thing, but tonight, my thoughts were different. “I think it’s pretty.”
He led me to the couch, and I sat down, doing my best to focus on my company. “I know you’ve been sad since your trip home, Avery. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No.” And as much as cutting off the last of my family hurt, it wasn’t the route of my pain.
“Have you put any more thought into my offer?”
I thought about it every day, but I never made any headway. “I have some concerns.”
“Such as?”
“Would the arrangement include sex?”
If my question surprised him, he didn’t let it show. “We would have a monogamous agreement. Intimacy would, of course, be open to discussion. Is that something you’d like to address now?”
How long could we possibly go without eventually sleeping together? Even a cactus needed water from time to time. “Isn’t it something you’d require … at some point.”
“I think it’s something we both would come to expect. But I can be patient.”
There were so many ways to have sex. Everyone was different, and sometimes the most unassuming people were the most surprising. “What if we’re not compatible in that way?”
“I think we’ll manage.”
It was the first time I felt wiser than him. We’ll manage? He knew I had a bleak past, but I made it too easy for him to believe the fantasy. He didn’t know me. He assumed the woman he spent time with was the basis of my character. It wasn’t. I was nothing like my sugar baby persona. Eventually, he’d realize that and then where would we be?
“What would change for me?”
He raised a brow. “You’d have anything you needed. You know I never mind providing—”
“That’s not what I mean. There are expectations. You want a certain kind of woman in your life. You’re very specific. I do my best to be that woman—”
“You’ve yet to disappoint me, Avery.”
“But that woman’s not me.”
He frowned. “Of course she is. People change. We grow. If we play a role long enough, it eventually becomes real.”
Maybe that worked for Micah, but it wouldn’t work for me. I didn’t want to become this agreeable puppet that laughed at jokes that weren’t funny and smiled through boring conversations. What good was a relationship if none of it was real? And where would the artifice end if sex complicated things? Would I be expected to fake orgasms, too?
I sipped my wine, wishing my glass held something stronger. I couldn’t agree to this. I didn’t want this to be my only option. And even if it was, I still didn’t want it.
“Micah, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but—”
“You know I think you're a beautiful woman, Avery. I told you so the first day we met. My opinion’s only improved over the years.” His voice lowered. “Has nothing changed for you?”
I squirmed, somewhat uncomfortable with the question. “I care about you, Micah. You’re very special to me, but I don’t think we have the right sort of chemistry for what you’re asking. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”
His glance drifted toward the door. “Is it him?”
The pressure in my chest intensified. “I… I’m not sure.”
“Are you in love with him?”
I laughed without humor. “I don’t know. I’ve never loved anyone.” It didn’t matter anyway. He didn’t love me back. I was a scorpion. “If being in love feels similar to emotional agony, then I might be.”
His hand rested over my knee, squeezing in gentle comfort. “When the person doesn’t love you back, it can feel similar to agony.”
Ouch. My insides clenched uncomfortably.
Maybe Noah didn’t love me, but Micah didn’t love me either. Not to say his feelings weren’t real. But the object of his affection was a total phony. He loved a woman I made up.
His thumb dragged slowly over my skin. “I know you have reservations, Avery, but I’d never purposely hurt you. I could provide everything you need. I’d do whatever I could to make you happy.”
“Micah…” The more he tried to convince me, the more certain I became. I couldn’t accept his offer. This was supposed to be a means to an end. All of the luxuries were perks, but not necessary anymore.
I wanted a modest income making an honest living. I wanted to live outside of the shadows and make friends. I wanted to have dinner parties and join a book club and maybe even have kids one day. I didn’t want to live by a negotiated arrangement anymore, and I certainly didn’t want artificial love. I wanted the real thing.
My lashes lowered as I breathed through the ache expanding in my chest. I wanted to love Noah, but he wouldn’t let me. I couldn’t blame him. Nothing about my life was normal, and he didn’t know anything about my past. He’d been so upfront about who he was and what he wanted. And I complicated things at every turn.
And now he’d moved on. Was it that tall brunette again, the one he kissed last month? My stomach turned and sloshed at the thought.
My vision blurred under the rush of unshed tears. I wanted a friend, and I made an enemy because no one wanted a relationship with the real me.
“I can’t accept your offer, Micah.”
He turned, his gaze measuring. “You don’t need to decide tonight. We have time.”
I shook my head. I didn’t need time. “I’m sorry. I love you for helping me, but this was never meant to be long term. In three months, I’m graduating. The fact that I’ll have no college debt is a miracle, but it’s time for me to start living a normal life.”
Maybe I’d move to the suburbs and find a summer job in retail while I looked for a teaching position. I could rent a modest apartment and save up for a car. My clothes would be mostly cotton, and my evenings would be my own.
“Are you saying you want to end things?”
Was I? My tuition was paid, but I had very little saved, and I still needed a place to live. “Not yet, but eventually. I need to stick to my original plan.”
In three months, I needed to let all of this go. Including Noah.
“I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”
I met his stare. “Life would have been so easy if I could love you. But I’m not sure I know how to love.”
His eyes softened. “You know how to love, Avery. But it’s going to take a special man to earn it. Don’t give anything to someone who has nothing to give back.”
I smiled. He’d said those same words to me many times when teaching me the rules of being a sugar baby. Everything was a trade, according to Micah. Maybe that was why he’d found so much success. He didn’t do anything without assuring he benefited someway in the end.
I wasn’t sure that applied to love and matters of the heart. At the moment, I didn’t need Noah to love me or even forgive me, but I needed him to know I was sorry I hurt him and that I cared about him more than anyone else.
Even if I’d lost him forever, I wanted to give him that.
37
Noah
“Can I get you a refill?”
I slid my glass forward, and the bartender snatched it. Grinding my molars, I stared at the bar, silently calling myself seven kinds of fucked up.
I was doing fine and arrogantly thought things were better, but nothing had changed. She was still selling dates, and Micah was still a regular part of her life. As a matter of fact, the other man was getting awfully cozy at her place—or should I say his place.
A fresh cocktail landed in front of me, and I sipped it. I was a fucking idiot.
Getting blindsided tonight was my own damn fault. Realizing the guy wasn’t just dropping her off and had actually parked his car … yeah, that sucked.
Guess she was moving on—just like I was supposed to do. Just like I was doing, sitting here with the rest of single Philadelphia drinking my fucking loneliness away.
“Noah?”
Pivoting on my stool, I did a double take. “Lucy?”
My assistant gave a shy smile.
“Are you meeting someone?”
She didn’t look like her normal self. Gone were the cardigan and bad shoes. And where had all that cleavage come from? “No, I’m here by myself.”
“Me too.”
My brow tightened. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, and her eyes looked huge. The way she had her makeup done… “You look pretty. You’re not on a date?”
“Th—thank you.” She climbed onto the stool beside mine, but still only came up to my shoulder. “No, no date. I don’t know what’s worse, sitting home alone on Valentine’s Day night, or getting dressed up and going out alone.”
I had to admire her choice. Most people would sit at home and mope. That had been my original plan.
“Well, you’re not alone anymore. What are you drinking?”
“Um, how about a banana daiquiri.”
I stilled. Was she fucking with me?
Uncertainty flashed in her big eyes. “Sorry, is that weird? I don’t usually drink. I guess I’ll just have a glass of beer or wine.”
Grateful for her company, I decided she should have whatever she wanted. “Can we get a banana daiquiri, please—with an umbrella?”
She smiled, and I was glad to see her confidence return. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
The blender ground up the fruit and Lucy grinned like a kid at a candy shop when the bartender slid her tall, tropical cocktail in front of her. She sipped and sighed, her long lashes lowered in pleasure.
“Is it good?”
“Delicious.” She took another sip than slid it away. “How come you’re alone tonight? You usually have me make reservations for you somewhere.” Her gaze remained on the bar.
“I didn’t feel like spending the night with someone meaningless.”
Her lashes lifted, her gaze traveling to my eyes. “Oh.” She sipped her daiquiri. “Do you want to hear something silly?”
“Sure.”
“Every year on Valentine’s Day, I get dressed up like this. I buy a new outfit and new shoes and spend extra time on my makeup and hair, but I never make plans with anyone.”
Sugar Page 28
