Page 140 of Beautifully Scarred

“Guess you were right not to sign on to that movie I was pushing you about weeks ago,” Keane says, breaking into my thoughts.

“Yeah, guess so.”

We watch the report for another minute before I decide it’s time to get a plan in place. The shitstorm that’s going to erupt over the next few months with the revelations about Bernie might actually work in my favor.

“Listen, there’s something else important that I need to discuss with you. Any chance you have time to get together on Monday? I can drop by your office.”

“Sounds serious. Should I be worried?” He chuckles, but the nervousness in his tone says he’s already worried.

“In the end, it’s a good thing. But we’ll need Kyra and Liz there too.”

I want my PR representative and my manager there so that I only have to fill in everyone once. Of the three of them, Keane and I are the closest and I trust him the most, but I’ll need everyone’s help to handle this situation in a way that’s best for Monica.

“You didn’t accidentally marry some stripper in Vegas, did you?” he asks.

I laugh. “Nah, man. I’ll fill you in on Monday.”

“All right. I’ll get my assistant to contact Kyra and Liz and figure out a time that works for everyone.”

“Just have her text me.”

“Will do. All right, man, I’ve got a bunch of other people I have to call. This thing is gonna fill my every waking moment for the next week. I’ll see you in a couple days.”

“Thanks for calling, Keane.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The line dies, and I set my phone on the coffee table.

Adelaide is at an industry event, so I don’t bother texting her. I’ll be back in LA tomorrow morning and we can catch up then. Besides, I’m sure this is the only thing they’re talking about in the city tonight.

A half hour later, I’m still seated on the couch and watching the coverage when I hear a car pull up into the driveway. I walk over to the window. It’s Lilah returning home from her date. I glance at my watch. Not too late. I push back the small part of me that’s happy she’s home early.

Heading back over to the couch, I hear her heels click on the wood floor of the porch then come through the door. My heart beats faster when I see her like this—wavy hair hanging down past her shoulders, a form-fitting V-neck dress, strappy heels showcasing the muscles in her legs. Her makeup is a little darker and her bee-stung lips are covered in red lipstick. Her natural beauty shines too, like in the last few weeks when she wears little to no makeup and her hair is pulled back or in a messy bun on top of her head.

There’s no denying she’s beautiful either way, but this is the first time I’ve seen her make an effort since I’ve been back in her life, and I’m a heterosexual male who used to be in love with her, so of course I notice.

“Hey, how was your date?” I pretend like I don’t have a care in the world as I mute the TV.

She slips off her heels and sets them aside. “It was okay. Dinner was good. He took me to a new Greek place one town over.”

I don’t know if she’s as uncomfortable talking to me about this as I am hearing it, but she sure looks ready to throw up. This is our life moving forward though, so we might as well practice.

“It’s still pretty early?”

Her cheeks turn pink, and she sits on the other end of the couch. “I haven’t really dated since Monica was born, so I’m taking it slow. Parker is a nice guy, but…” She shrugs, looking at her hands in her lap.

“But what?”

“I don’t know.” She finally meets my eyes. “It’s just different…”

She doesn’t need to explain. I know exactly what she means. I felt exactly the same way after I finished trying to mend my broken heart by banging anything with a pulse. Once I really started dating again, it felt pointless because I compared everyone to Lilah. I didn’t have the depth of feelings or share the same kind of spark with anyone else. But I pushed forward and eventually realized that was just how it was gonna be. I’d share a different type of love.

“It’ll get easier,” I say.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Awkward silence envelops the room for a second. “Anyway, how was Monica tonight? Did she go down okay for you?”

My smile splits my face when I think of my daughter. “We had a great time. I let her stay up a little late, but she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.”

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