Page 45 of Edging Obsession

Her mom directs a question at me. “How could you take advantage of Jules? You know she’s vulnerable. Not only have you talked her into this crazy lifestyle, but the life you lead is also dangerous, and you’re risking Jules’ life.”

Jules is about to answer for me, except I beat her to it. “I’ll give you that. My life is dangerous, which does compromise her. That said, I’m in love with your daughter, and I’m a selfish bastard. I can’t give her up.” She folds her hands on the table. “Regarding our relationship, I don’t want you to think Jules doesn’t have a say. Yes, she’s vulnerable, mainly with her bipolar, yet everything we’ve done and agreed upon has been discussed extensively. It might not be your kind of lifestyle, like group sex isn’t, but give your daughter some credit.” She’s about to reprimand me, except I don’t give her the opportunity. “Jules isn’t an invalid. She can make up her own mind regarding what she wants in life. And quite frankly, she didn’t have a clue what she wanted to do. I’ve offered her a life where I’ll take care of her. Keep her safe. If she decides to go to school, open a business, or anything else, Jules is free to do so. Our…relationship doesn’t stop her from voicing her opinion or pursuing anything she’d like.”

They’re still not budging, so I soften my approach, for Jules’ sake. “Elliott and Elise. Obviously, Jules wants you aware of everything in her life. She is close to you and loves you. I would never keep her away from the people she loves most.”

Elise begs me. “But why this kind of relationship?”

“Because I’ve always wanted one, and it allows Jules to forget her ups and downs. She loves not having to make decisions on an everyday basis. Maybe once her bipolar and meds even out, she’ll want to have more say in her day-to-day life, but for now, this is whatwewant.”

“How does she forget her ups and downs?”

My eyebrow rises. “Do you really want me to go into detail?”

She holds her hand up. “Nope. Got it.”

The room falls silent. I excuse myself to get the cook because I’m starving. When I return, none of them are talking.

I plop down next to Jules, pull her against me, and kiss the crown of her head. “I can’t convince either of you to comprehend our relationship, nor will I try. It’s our relationship, not yours. All I can hope is we can agree to disagree.”

Their silence and stares haven’t eased up.

I let out a heavy sigh. “Tonight is the start of our European tour. I have to get to practice later this morning. Come to the concert. Afterward, you can travel Europe, think about all Jules has told you, and when we meet up again, I hope to have more information about your biological daughter.”

He stands, and Elise follows. “This isn’t the end of the conversation.”

22

Once Miles leaves, I try explaining to my parents about my choices, but they’re too upset and decide to head back to the guesthouse. Without Miles, the place is quiet, which has me feeling empty inside. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned our relationship, except I thought it best to have everything in the open. They’re tired of Miles’ secrets, so I figured bringing everything to light would be best. Unfortunately, it’s a bit of an overload for them. All I can do is hope they’ll come around and accept what we have without disparaging remarks.

Even though we’re in Europe, Miles paid my therapist to fly out here. She’s staying in a hotel room because he knew I didn’t want her so close. We setup appointments around his schedule. He has my best interests at heart. For someone who didn’t have parents to guide him, it amazes me how he comes up with these wonderful things. But, because of the lack of parental control, Miles tends to lose his temper toward my parents and lash out at them. His respect wanes a bit when it comes to authority. Obviously, his lack of manners does show, which I hope will change over the course of our relationship.

Miles took me shopping before we came to Europe, and I’m loving my clothes. I’ve also been waxed from top to bottom, which should last a while. I soak in the whirlpool, immersed in lavender, and close my eyes. It isn’t until I hear my phone pinging that I realize I fell asleep. Miles has been texting me, wondering where I’m at.

Me: I’m sorry. I fell asleep in the whirlpool.

Miles: Okay. I just didn’t hear from you. Did your parent’s leave pissed?

Me: Yes. I’m sure they’ll get over it.

Miles: You shouldn’t have told them.

Me: I don’t want any more secrets.

Miles: It’s not a secret. It’s personal.

Me: I’m sorry.

Miles: The car will be there to pick you up at five. Let your parents know, if they’re still interested.

We say our goodbyes, and I call my mom. She’s upset, but they haven’t backed out of going to the concert, which is a good sign. My cluttered mind doesn’t always make the right decisions. I thought putting everything out there in the open would be the best for all of us. Unfortunately, I’m regretting it. If only I weighed the pros and cons, instead of regurgitating our personal relationship to them, my parents wouldn’t be extra wary and angrier at Miles than they already are.

The car will be here in an hour, so I apply a shimmery lotion and sit at the large mirror to do my makeup and hair. I feel beautiful. In the drawer, there’s a jeweled clip for my hair, so I pull up the sides, allowing the lower back portion and strands of curls to hang loose. Then comes the outfit. I slip on my strapless mid-thigh silver sequin dress, and strappy silver heels. I’m standing in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing down my dress, turning in different directions. I hope Miles falls off his stool when he sees me.

My parents arrive at the same time as the car. The drive is uncomfortable, with a couple of complements tossed at each other. Their reaction is to be expected. I’ve had months to adapt to some of Miles’ secrets and our life. They’ve been handed it all on one platter. Another thing I didn’t take into account.

We arrive at the venue, and I text Miles, who meets us in a holding area where the stage and sound crew are prepping for the night. There’s a German group opening for them. The place is swarming with people. Miles takes my hand and gestures to my parents to follow. Through a maze of people and hallways, he opens a door to a beautiful room, decked out with couches, chairs, mini-bar, and every table topped with a flower bouquet. I lean in to read the small card on one of them from a fan of Miles’, offering herself to him.

Miles notices me blowing out a frustrated breath, and takes my chin, kissing my lips, and says, “It’s part of the persona. They don’t matter. You do.” This has me smiling. “And you look absolutely gorgeous.”

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