All of my questions about Lara are answered with one quiet confession. And now, more than ever, I respect how incredibly strong she is. The entire time, she’s been putting on a brave face around Fia. All to help me.
I bob my head, letting the brutal reality of her situation sink in. “For what it’s worth, I think you were brave to let your daughter go. You wanted to give her a better life.”
Lara’s tears flow in constant streams down her cheeks. “But it was the wrong choice.”
I want to hold her, comfort her, but I’m not sure I should. I don’t know shit about being there for people. Not like this.
“Lara, you have no idea how things would have worked out if you’d kept her. Life isn’t always kind or easy.” Honestly, I sometimes wish my mother would have put Flip and me up for adoption. At least then we would have had a chance at growing up with families.
“If it wasn’t a mistake, then why’ve I’ve spent all these years missing her?”
“Because you’re a good person. You care about her. But there is no reason to believe your daughter is miserable or suffering. Who knows, maybe she’ll come looking for you someday, and you two will reconnect.”
“That’s not what I want, Dean. I miss my baby. I want to see her. I want to watch her grow. I want to watch her discover who she’s meant to be. I want to watch her fall in love, fall down, and get back up again. I want to bake her birthday cakes and take her shopping. I just…” Lara shakes her head, “want to be a part of her life.”
“Never in a million years could I imagine myself saying this, but I understand. I really understand. And for what it’s worth, I’m here for you.” I wish I could do more, but it’s the only thing I have to offer.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lara insists on coming back to my place to keep me company while I wait for Child Services to call and bring back Fia. The gesture leaves me feeling uneasy. Too many things were left unsaid back at the police station parking lot, and I need to get them off my chest.
For example, I’ve only had my little dumplin’ for a handful of days, so I can’t imagine how a woman feels carrying a baby, giving birth, and loving it only to lose it. What I’m getting at is that Lara sees her lost daughter in Fia, but it didn’t stop her from helping me. I think it’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever done.
But where does that leave us?
I’m attracted to Lara physically, something I always knew, but now my eyes have been opened to the quality of person she really is. I want her. Yet this is still the worst possible time to embark on a serious relationship.
And suddenly I’m adding to the list of things I don’t care about. I don’t care if I have no plan for taking custody of Fia. I don’t care if this is a bad time to make a commitment to Lara. I’m flying blind, following my gut. A first for me.
I’ve got to tell Lara how I feel. Because nothing like this has ever happened and, fuck, if I’m not spinning another plate I don’t want to drop.
I park my truck in the back of the complex again because the swarm of reporters out front has tripled. I haven’t bothered looking at my phone because there’s no point in seeing what people are saying. Can’t be good.
I’m going to stick to my plan, listen to the lawyer, and lean on the people I trust. All this will shake out. Or it won’t.
When I get to the third floor, I’m greeted by a crowd of reporters lurking in front of my door.
Wonderful. Looks like they’ve abandoned any and all concerns over trespassing. I’m going to call the police. Or maybe not? The cops aren’t exactly on my side right now.
This is some bullshit. I bet Lara, who left a few minutes before me, took one look at these vultures and headed home. That sucks because I really need to finish the conversation we started. I need a plan for how to deal with the “us situation.”
“No comment,” I say and push past the field of dildos (reporters) to make my way to my front door, slamming it shut behind me.
“You okay?” Lara’s sweet voice rings out from inside my apartment.
A wave of relief rolls through me. “I’ve never been happier to see anyone.”
“You just saw me twenty minutes ago.”
“Yeah, well, a lot can happen in twenty minutes.”
“Like?” she asks.
I’m about to say how much I need her, how during the drive over, I had an epiphany. But I chicken out. What a guy. “Are Igor and Mike here?”