Page 165 of Role Play
Her eyes sharpen with interest. “What do you mean?”
I hesitate, then decide that honesty might be the only way to make her understand how much things have changed. “I haven’t been a financial consultant, Hannah. That was a cover. I’ve been working as an escort for the past four years.”
Her jaw drops. “An escort? As in?—”
“As in women paid me to be their date, yes.” I meet her gaze steadily. “Sometimes more than that. It was the only way I could make enough money to keep Dakota in that fancy school you insisted on and still handle my other financial obligations.”
“I don’t believe you.” But her expression says otherwise—shock giving way to calculation as she reassesses me.
“It’s true. I quit recently. I’m starting over from the ground up, trying to figure out what’s next.” I gesture toward the bar exam materials on the desk. “I’m finally taking the bar. Building a legitimate career.”
“You’re going to be a lawyer?” She sounds genuinely surprised. “After all this time?”
“Yes. It’s what I studied, after all.” I lean forward slightly. “My point is, if I can rebuild my life after that mess, so can you. You don’t need to chase after men like Henry. You’re smart, capable. You always talked about interior design. Maybe now’s the time to pursue that. You’d be great at it.”
“That’s not what I want.” Something shifts in her expression—a softening, a vulnerability I haven’t seen since our early days together. She stands, moving toward me with purpose.
“Maybe fashion design?” I ask awkwardly.
“What I want,” she says softly, “is you.”
Before I can react, she’s leaning in, her hands coming up to frame my face as she tries to press her lips to mine. I jerk backward, nearly toppling over the desk in my haste to create distance.
“Whoa! No, Hannah, stop.” I raise my hands defensively.
“But you’re being so nice, Forrest?—”
“You’ve misunderstood. I was trying to be kind, to give you hope about your future, not—not this.”
Her face flushes with humiliation. “You’re seriously rejecting me? For her?” The way she saysherdrips with disdain. “How can you choose a fling over our history?”
“Not a fling. I’m in love with Sora,” I say firmly. “I live here with her. We’re building a life together.”
Hannah scoffs. “Please. You barely know her. What’s it been, a month? Two?”
“It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. What I feel for her…” I pause, searching for words that won’t wound Hannah further but also won’t diminish what Sora means to me. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love her. Not even you, Hannah. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”
The color drains from her face, then returns in two angry spots high on her cheekbones. “You’re saying you love this—this nobody more than you ever loved me?”
“She’s not a nobody. And yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
Hannah’s eyes narrow to slits. “Well. Thank you for your honesty.” She straightens, adjusting her coat with jerky movements. “I think this conversation is over.”
She strides to the door and yanks it open. Panic builds in my chest as she stalks down the hallway toward the kitchen.
“Hannah, wait?—”
She ignores me, entering the kitchen where Sora and Dakota are stacking pancakes on plates. Dakota looks up, face brightening at the sight of her mother.
“Mommy! We made extra for you! They have chocolate chips and Sora cut strawberries in heart shapes!”
“Get your things, Dakota,” Hannah says, clipped. “We’re leaving.”
Dakota’s smile falters. “But…our pancakes…”
“Now, Dakota.” Hannah’s tone is bone-breakingly harsh. “We’re going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house.”
I step forward. “Hannah, you can’t just take her.” I try to keep my voice level despite the heat lashing my throat. “Our agreement?—”
