Page 53 of Shattered Dreams

Her eyes flash angrily and she opens her mouth to tell me off, but I say, “That isn’t Zarah’s money. It’s mine. She doesn’t give me anything but her time. I still earn my own paycheck, still pay my own bills, still live in the same apartment I had when I dated you. That’s my money. It’s okay.”

She wilts and brushes her fingers over the paper. “Thanks. It will help a lot.”

“Think about going to school. I’ll pay your tuition.”

Bitterness creeps across her face. If she wants to give her daughter a better life, she can’t afford to turn me down. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I used to love you. Because Lacey is this close to being my kid. Because I’m the type of guy to help if I can. We have a history, and I want your future to be a little brighter. Fillout the financial aid application and you’ll probably qualify for some grants. I’ll cover the rest, that way you won’t have loans to pay off when you’re done.” I lay my business card on top of the check. “Call me. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you don’t want my help, but think about Lacey. You don’t want her growing up here. Not if she doesn’t have to.”

A tear drips down her cheek. “You should have been her daddy.”

“I could have been, but I’m not.” I push out of the rickety chair, and Baby bounces to her feet.

At the door, I shove on my work boots. Lacey doesn’t bat an eye in my direction, and I ache for kids in a way I never have before watching her sitting on the floor staring at the children’s program.

I sigh. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“I hope you and Zarah work it out. She’ll never find a better man to stand by her.”

“Thanks. Take care of yourself,” I mumble, my lips pressed against her forehead. Her skin is just as soft, her scent the same. It brings back a lot of memories, but she’s not Zarah.

With help, I hope Viv can get her life on track. It’s not a sin to want more, to need more, but she’ll have to find what she’s looking for on her own.

I write a mental note to thank my mother for her suggestion. Even though I signed up to help Viv for the next little while, the visit will let me put the past away.

While my truck warms up, I check my phone and frown. It’s long past when Zarah should have messaged me she landed at LAX, but maybe she got caught up in the excitement of traveling and forgot. I don’t want to text and look like I’m checking up on her, and if there was trouble, Mel would have let Zane know. He’s been forthcoming, sharing other information, news, and plans, and I doubt he would shut me out now.

I throw Baby snowballs in the parking lot that she gleefully chases after, snagging them out of the air. Pop calls and asks if I want to watch a football game, but I turn him down. Now that Zarah and I are back to some stability in our relationship, I’m going to catch up on my sleep. Between thinking I’d never see her again and Black’s fuckhead goon assaulting her, I’ve been a nervous wreck, and I’m man enough to admit it.

For lunch I fix a thick ham and cheese sandwich and crunch through half a bag of chips, and afterward, exhausted, I crash on the couch. I wake up to Baby barking and some idiot banging on the door so loudly someone’s going to call the cops.

“Fuck,” I grumble, staggering to my feet, rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

I’m not surprised to see Zane standing on the other side. As far as I can tell, the man has two settings: sloth and speed of sound.

“What’s gotten into you?” I mutter.

“Has Zarah messaged or called you?”

“Let me piss, I just got up.” I don’t shut the door and I holler into the hallway. “No. She’s probably having drinks with George Clooney.”

“George and Amal are in Italy,” Zane says, dead serious, and Christ, they’re probably best friends. “Zarah texted me, but I had my phone turned off. I promised Stella a quiet morning after we left the airport.”

I shake my dick, zip, and wash my hands. They’re trembling. “What did she say?”

Eying my hands suspiciously, Zane passes over his phone.

“I washed, asshole.” Ignoring his dubious look, I read his sister’s text.

I’ve decided I need some time alone. I’ll let you know when I’m back in the city. Don’t worry about me. I realized Gage andI got back together too soon and I need room to breathe. I love you and Stella. <3

It’s hard not to get pissed, but I’m beginning to recognize her MO now. Whenever things turn too heavy and serious, she gets scared and retreats. It’s easier for her to hide than trust her feelings for me and trustmyfeelings forher.

“She didn’t fly to LA?”

“Mel said she never showed.”

I chew that over. “You’re just checking your phone now?”

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