Page 122 of Until I Claim You

I slide my hand over the top of her head, a caress. A promise.I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

Sonia jerks away and touches her lips as if they’ve been electrocuted. Her eyes fall to the ground. “How do I know you’re not like him?”

“What?”

Sonia looks me dead in the eye. “How do I know…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t need to. I heard her the first time.

I’ve lost. I know there’s nothing I can say or do to convince her that I’m different than my son.

He’s from my body, from my blood. I’m the reason he is the way he is. That’s how parenting works, even if I was lacking in that department.

My heart crumbles.

If I don’t get away from her fast, it’ll shatter me into amillion pieces. I step away from the door, no longer holding her in my keep.

Sonia rips the door open and disappears as fast as she can, leaving only the ghost of her mouth on mine, the aroma of her hair in my nose, and the distinct feeling that I will never, ever recover from losing her.

28

SONIA

Cryingon the subway is a common occurrence in New York.

I’ve seen many people trying to keep their weeping to themselves as they rode the Q.

Now, it’s my turn. I guess it was only a matter of time. A rite of passage.

I find a corner seat and sob into my hands.

I’ve broken my own heart leaving Edwin there like that.

So much of me wanted to give into him and say fuck everything. Take his money, take his love.

But I just can’t.

Knowing what Nate did to me, I can’t even fathom the potential for Edwin’s betrayals when he’s lived so much more and has so much more money.

Has he given me much reason to think that? No. In fact, I should be grateful he was willing to give me a second chance when I was the one who lied and betrayed him for so long.

However, the idea of him one day holding all thatmoney over my head, holding me captive to his will because Iowe him something…

I am tired of owing anything to anyone.

I’m so screwed up in the head, it’s like my thoughts are in a different language, words I once knew not making sense.

Through the din, the only words I can understand are,I love him, I love him, I love him.

That makes me cry even harder.

I realize halfway through my ride, I was so turned around I got on a southbound train instead of a northbound one, heading away from Queens. Just my fucking luck.

I miss my dad more than anything. And that makes me angry. Despite his addiction, he was loving. And funny. And always knew what to say.

I know he and Edwin would have something in common. They both have regrets about what kind of fathers they were.

Instead of backtracking and getting on the right train, I may as well head back to the club. It is closed until tomorrow afternoon, thanks to the never-ending construction of the whisky room.

A perfect place to clear my mind.

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