Page 43 of The One I Hate
Since Lila was an infant, it’s been the three of us. An unexpected Three Musketeers of sorts. One day Connor was a carefree bachelor in Knoxville, and the next he was opening his front door to a baby in a dilapidated stroller, a baby bag that had one diaper and a single set of pajamas in it, and a note apologizing for leaving her, but that she couldn’t do it anymore. It was shit out of a movie.
When he showed up at my Nashville apartment, scared shitless and holding his crying baby, I knew everything was about to change. And it did, but in the best way possible. So I did what I always do—I stepped up.
I watched Lila for the night so he could go back to Knoxville and get his stuff. I found us a bigger place. I even tried—though unsuccessfully—to contact the mother.
Since then it’s been us. And I don’t regret a thing. I got to see her first steps. I’ve watched her learn new things every day and become a smart as hell little girl. I’ve watched her become a tiny human. Plus, she’s my buddy. Despite getting a dog that likes to terrorize me, which she named after her favorite food, I wouldn’t trade these years for anything. And I can’t imagine not being here for her. Or for Connor.
I just can’t. I’m tearing up just thinking about it.
“Charlie,” Connor says, taking my hands into his. “I will never, and I mean never, be able to repay you for everything you’ve done for us.”
“And I’ll never ask you to.”
He nods. “I know. But this is how I can do it. I can tell you to go. Quit holding yourself back for me and Lila. It’s not fair to you.”
“I’m not worried about me.”
“But I am,” he says. “You have wanted this our entire lives. You used to make me play restaurant when we were kids. And let’s not forget the promise you made Mom.”
I throw him an evil eye. “You really had to bring Mom into this?”
He shrugs. “Yes. I did. Because if she were here, she’d kick your ass and make you go.”
I push back the wave of tears that threaten at just thinking about my mom. Besides the fact that she left us way too early—cancer can suck a small flaccid dick—she was always the one who knew what to say. Who knew what to do. She’s the reason I want to have a restaurant like Mona’s. She’s the reason for everything.
Hell, I think she’s the reason for this. It’s not lost on me that the restaurant is called Mona’s and my mom’s name was Ramona. The woman who made me promise her before she passed away that no matter what, however long it took me, I’d find a way to live my dream.
And here it is.
Yet I can’t make myself pull the trigger.
“There’s one more problem,” I admit, hating that I have to bring this up.
“What’s that?”
“It’s in Rolling Hills.”
“Yes, you’ve already said that.”
“There’s a problem with Rolling Hills.”
“And that is?”
I take a breath, realizing this is the first time I’m saying these words out loud. “Simon lives there.”
It takes Connor a second to put it together, but once he does, I see it immediately on his face. His face is as red as the tomato sauce simmering on the stove.
“Simon? That fucking douchebag who fucking broke your heart?”
And did other things…
I nod. “Yeah. Small world, huh?”
Connor stands up and starts pacing our tiny kitchen. I figured he was going to have this reaction. Because if Connor ever sees Simon in person, he might kill him.
I might hate Simon for what he did to me all those years ago, but Connor loathes him. And that’s without him knowing about our recent tryst.
I get it. Connor’s my protector. He might be my little brother, but he’s been my person for our entire lives. He saw me cry for weeks over Simon. No brother ever reacts well when he finds out his sister has had her heart shattered. And that was on top of the tears I was crying knowing that we had just days left with my mom. It was the lowest and darkest point of my life.
