Page 18 of Boss Daddy
Tilly
The road ahead is blurry as I drive across town and pull up in front of the apartment complex that was my home for the vast majority of my life. I wipe my hands over my face and sniffle as I look up at it, realizing that despite that fact, this place has never felt like home. Merely a waystation until my real life began—my life with Noah.This is sick.
Dermot’s words hit me like a punch in the gut, causing a fresh flood of tears to fall from my eyes. I’m not naïve. I know that what Noah and I have is unconventional. I know that some people won’t understand. But I’ve been living in such a happy bubble where the only people who know are supportive. I wasn’t ready for the darker side of unacceptance, especially from Noah’s son.
The way we’d planned on telling them about it was supposed to be very different. Noah was going to tell them he was seeing someone on Father’s Day when it was just the three of them. We were going to save the face-to-face meeting until Jayden and Dermot felt ready to meet me themselves. But now, that gentle easing isn’t happening, and everything feels so messy. I don’t know what to do.You know who dates twenty-one-year-olds, Dad? Other twenty-one-year-olds. Oh, and dirty old men...
Noah isn’t a dirty old man. He’s the most loving and caring person I’ve ever known. Before he came into my life, I was lost, and I felt so alone and hopeless. That time when he caught me after I fell was the moment my heart understood what its purpose was. Something magical happened when our bodies touched, to deny it would be denying God. Noah and I are meant to be.
Getting out of my jeep, I cross the road and climb the stairs to my old apartment, letting myself in since it’s early and I know my mother will be sleeping off the night before. I’m not sure how healthy it is for her to have Noah pay her accommodation and utilities. Each time I’ve visited in the last few weeks she’s either been passed out drunk or not here at all. I’m worried all we’re doing is being complicit in her downward spiral. But on the flipside, I know that if Noah hadn’t chosen to pay for her, I would have been doing it myself. It’s hard to turn your back on a family member, even when you know in your heart they wouldn’t do the same for you. I often wonder if my father had been like me—too compassionate, too giving. I guess that’s something I’ll never have the answer to though.
“It’s just me,” I say as I close the front door and slide the chain in place. The TV is on, and there’re dirty dishes filling the sink, general mess all around. I walk past Mom’s room and find her flat on her back, snoring.At least she’s alone.The last thing I need is one of her leering boyfriends waking up and trying to cop a feel. Living with Noah has been like waking up and finding out you were born into the wrong family. With him, everything is kind and loving, andclean.Coming back here is always a reminder of everything I fought against my entire life. He rescued me.
Pulling her door closed, I set about tidying up. Emptying ashtrays and washing dishes. The work helps me rein in my emotions, but I can’t stop my mind from running away on me.What’s going to happen now?With Dermot so obviously disgusted by his father’s choice in women, what happens between Noah and me? I don’t want to be the reason he falls out with his boys. I don’t have much to compare it to, but he’s obviously a loving father who has doted on them all their lives. It’d be an injustice to damage that relationship because of me. Family should always come first.
I should know. I’ve been putting my mother ahead of myself all my life.
Sometimes it feels selfish when I’m at Noah’s, and I know my mother is here, alone and unsupervised. So maybe this is where I belong. Maybe being with Noah was a wonderful vacation—a holiday romance that would only last a short while. It was fun while it lasted…
Just the thought of walking away from my life with Noah breaks my heart in two, and I bow my head and cry, my tears falling into the dirty dishwater.
“Your sugar daddy kick you out?” Mom says from behind me, the scent of freshly lit tobacco floating past my nose.
I wipe my eyes on my forearms and sniff. “He’s not my sugar daddy,” I say, taking a deep breath and clamping down on my emotions. This isn’t the place to show your weakness.
“What is he then?” she asks, sitting at the kitchen table as she blows smoke rings in the air.
“He’s…” I start, turning around to face her. “He’s the man I love.”
“Who also pays for everything for you. I see those nice clothes and those pretty earrings.” She points a bony finger my way.
“He gives me things because he’s kind. Not because we have anarrangement.We love each other,” I say, annoyed because a daddy and a sugar daddy arenotthe same thing. He doesn’t pay for my lifestyle in exchange for my company. We’re in an actual loving relationship. Why can’t people understand that? Just because he’s thirty years older than me, doesn’t make our love any less valid than if we were the same age.
Mom scoffs. “You think helovesyou? My dear girl, you’ve got rocks in your head. He’ll use you and throw you away when the novelty wears off like all men do. Don’t get too comfortable.”
“I should go,” I say, pulling off the rubber gloves and setting them next to the sink.
“Can’t take the truth?” she calls out as I collect my bag and keys.
“No, Mom. It’s the lies I can’t stand. Noah and I are the real deal. Mock it all you want, but I won’t let you ruin it for me, or make me feel cheap because he likes to look after me, and you should feel grateful because he’s looking after you too.”
“I’m grateful,” she says. “But I could use a little extra cabbage if you know what I mean.” She holds out her hand and rubs two fingers together. “Girl can’t live the high life without giving to the woman who sacrificed all her life to keep her.”
That’s when my heart turns to stone. “Sacrificed?” I gasp, hardly believing my ears. “You thinkyousacrificed forme?” I shake my head and step away. “I’m leaving.”
“Wait. What about my money?” she calls out as I head for the door.
“Get a job, Mom. Look after yourself for a change.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve had enough of yoursacrifices.It means I won’t keep cleaning up your damn mess. It means that finally,finally,I see you for who you are. I’m done. I love you, Mom. But I can’t keep doing this.”
“You ungrateful bi—”
The slamming of the door behind me cuts off the rest of her words, but I don’t need to be a genius to know what she was saying. My tears fall again, and I’m hiccupping as I get behind the wheel and put my key in the ignition. But I don’t even get to start the engine before my door is opened from the outside and I’m hauled out of my seat.
At first I scream, thinking I’m being carjacked. But then I open my eyes and take in the beautiful man who’s pulling me against his chest and telling me everything is going to be OK.
Noah.My heart.
“I’ve got you, angel,” he says, kissing the mess that I am. “I’ve got you.”
