Page 70 of Negotiating Tactics

Noah’s arms tightened and then loosened, and I braced myself for the onslaught I knew I deserved.

But instead of anger, I got softness. He stroked his thumb across my cheekbone, then tenderly cupped my face. “Don’t try to push me away right now. Just answer.”

I didn’t speak, wasn’t sure what to say.

Then it hit me in a flash.

Noah was here now.

For me.

And I could trust him.

With that knowledge, I decided to tell the truth.

All of it.

“My father doesn’t love me,” I said, my voice wavering, but the tears that had flowed freely for days not coming this time.

Noah lifted his lips, flashing that dimple as he stroked my cheek. “Something else we have in common.”

Guilt hit me hard.

I hadn’t even considered Noah’s past.

Not once.

“Noah, I’m sorry.”

How dare I drop my shit on him when he had his own to deal with?

He kissed my forehead. “Don’t ever be sorry for telling me the truth. And don’t worry about me. I want to talk about you.”

He still stroked my cheek, but I saw a glint of hardness in his eyes.

“I…” My mouth flopped open and closed but no words came out.

“Talk, Alex,” he said.

His arms were on top of mine now, and he held me in a tight hold, one I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to leave.

“That has to be the only explanation. Why else would he parachute into my life, then run back out. Over, and over, and over.”

I cut off, felt myself melting into Noah, relying on his strength in a way I’d never allowed myself to with anyone else.

“I can’t tell you how many weekends of my childhood I spent waiting for him to show up, only to be disappointed.

“How many daddy-daughter dates we never had, even though he promised. Then, when I was older, how my mother and I had to miss our trip to Mexico because we couldn’t find him to sign my passport application. Mama saved every extra penny for years for that trip, and she never got to take it because of him.

“He never went to my volleyball games. Wasn’t there when I graduated salutatorian and gave a speech in high school. Or when I graduated with honors from college or law school. None of it.

“He was nice enough to come to my mother’s funeral, but he didn’t stay for the repast. It’s always been like that with him. In and out. In and out. It should be easy for me now. I should know exactly what he’s about. But every time, like the fucking dumb ass I am, I get sucked in.

“I just keep thinking that one day he’s going to say ‘Alex, I love you.’ He doesn’t even have to apologize for all the shit that happened before. Just be here. And stay. I know it’s stupid, and I know I should know better. But I still hope, and it’s fucking pathetic.”

Those tears that hadn’t come before started to well up and spill out of my eyes, and I swiped at them angrily, viewing them as yet another betrayal of myself on my father’s behalf.

“I can’t fucking believe I let him do this to me,” I said, the tears now coming faster than I could swipe them away.

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