Sliding the doors open, I walk over to her and take a seat by her side. She’s hugging her arms to her chest as she watches Gizmo explore the backyard.
“Sorry,” she says, wiping a stray tear away. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she softly laughs. “Seeing you two together, it just hit me all of a sudden how much she’s missed out on with not having a dad around.”
“Why isn’t he around?” I ask softly, hoping I’ll get more answers this time.
Blowing out a breath, she runs a hand through her hair before hugging her knees to her chest. “I met Mark when I was twenty. I was working at a pretty upscale event for a release party…his release party. Mark was a musician and lead vocalist for an up-and-coming band. They had just gotten their first big record deal and were celebrating that night.”
Shit.
No wonder she’s not fond of musicians. I know firsthand what goes on at those parties. Hard drugs aren’t my thing, but they flow like candy at events like that. Mix that with the endless amount of alcohol flowing and no one gives a fuck about anything except getting off one way or another. She’s probably seen it all if she went to those parties with him.
“He was good-looking and charming and said all the right things to make me fall in love with him. I traveled to his shows when I could. In my head, everything was perfect. He made it sound like everything was perfect and we would always be together.”
I can’t help the streak of jealousy that shoots through me when I think of her with another guy. I’m also angry…angry that this bastard hurt her and didn’t see what was right in front of him.
“A year into our relationship, I found out I was pregnant with Bee. What’s funny is I was actually excited to tell him. I know it wasn’t planned, but she was part of us. How could you not want something that’s a piece of you…that’s also part of someone you love?”
“I don’t know,” I sigh. “Max’s biological mom didn’t want him either. She left Travis with a newborn because her career was more important to her. Sophia, on the other hand, fell in love with him the moment she met him and didn’t hesitate to raise him as her own.”
“I guess your brother and I have that in common,” she says quietly.
“What happened when you told him?”
“Not what I expected,” she says with a sad laugh. “I guess I should have paid more attention because the signs were there with the partying and drinking, but I was young and naïve. Work kept me busy, and when I wasn’t working, I was with him, so I lived in my own little happy bubble, never expecting it to burst.”
She starts fidgeting with her rings on her fingers, and I take her hand in mine, wanting to give her any comfort I can. My thumb lightly strokes her palm, and I feel her relax a bit.
“I waited until we could see each other again because I wanted to tell him in person. I even bought this cute little t-shirt and had his band logo printed on the front,” she smiles at the memory. “I’ll never forget the look on his face when I told him. He completely panicked and then got angry. Like it was all my fault that I let this happen. He went on and on about how this is going to ruin his career, and we have to get rid of it.It…like our baby was some object to dispose of because it didn’t fit into his plans.”
“God, I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I feel the anger rise in me, and I loosen my tightening grip on her hand.
“That’s not even the worst part,” she scoffs. “Turns out I was just one of many girls that he had been fucking. Everything he had told me was a lie just to keep me as his little side piece,” she says with a bitter laugh.
I hear the pain in her voice even though she’s doing her damnedest to hide it. I fight the urge to get a last name so I can seek the fucker out.
“After I refused to get an abortion, he called his publicist, and they felt it would be bad for his image if he got agroupiepregnant. A groupie…that’s what he had the nerve to call me,” she laughs with disdain, “so he signed over all parental rights. I haven’t heard from him since, except for the check in the mail each month. It goes directly into a savings account for Bee to have when she turns eighteen. I don’t want a damn thing from him. I got what matters the most out of this relationship, and for that, I’ll never regret the pain I went through because I have her.”
“Jesus, that’s so fucked up,” I stand up and pace the yard, my hand roughly going through my hair as I take in what she just told me.
“When I met you, you were the first person who made me feel alive since Bee was born, and it scares me,” she says quietly, causing me to stop in my tracks. “Then, when I found out you were a musician, it felt like I was on the road to making the same mistake again. Only this time, it wouldn’t just be me who gets hurt.”
She stands up and stops when she reaches me. “I put my needs first for two nights…just two nights,” she says, holding up her fingers, “and it blew up in my face. Now Lyla’s involved, and your amazing family. My daughter loves your dog, and I see you with her, and…” her voice catches as she struggles to fight back the tears. “It terrifies me. I won’t be played again, Miles.”
“Is that what you think? That I’m playing you?” I furrow my brow and stare at her.
“I don’t know what to think,” she sighs. “I just know it’s getting harder and harder to protect my heart when I’m around you, and until I know for sure that what this is between us is real, I can’t let it go any further and get Bee involved.”
I digest everything she told me as I pull my lip ring in and roll it with my tongue. It’s a habit I’ve developed over the years, and most of the time I don’t even realize I’m doing it.
Releasing my piercing with a sigh, I try to gather my thoughts. I understand what she’s saying, and why she’s hesitant. It doesn’t make it any less frustrating, though, to be lumped in with an asshole like Mark.
“I get that the douchebag and I have similar pasts,” I say, not even wanting to speak his name because it leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. “The fame, the partying lifestyle, the high from being on stage…the girls…it can easily become an addiction. And for a while, I was addicted. But, I’m not like him, Olivia,” I say, shaking my head. “I never made promises I couldn’t keep. I never lied or cheated, and I certainly wouldn’t have cared for my career more than my own child.”
I search her eyes, hoping she believes what I’m telling her.
“After years on the road, it all became surface-level to me. Besides my band members, none of the people I worked with or partied with were really my friends. They just wanted a piece of whatever I had to give. I got tired of the fakeness and wanted something real in my life, so I came home. I knew I wasn’t going to find what I was looking for if I kept up that lifestyle.”
“And what exactly are you looking for?”
