Olivia raises both eyebrows and ticks her attention back in my direction. “Fucking for money, Davis? It’s not that bad?”
“People do worse shit for money all the time,” I insist. “Bernie Madoff ran a sixty-five-million-dollar Ponzi scheme. People’s lives were ruined over that. Mortgage lenders originated risky terms to borrowers and caused a global financial crisis. Johnson & Johnson literally knew that baby powder caused cancer and they sold it anyway. And you’re here worried that you had sex with one guy for money? You’re entitled to your feelings, but really, who was hurt by this other than…well, me?”
She blinks a few times. “It’s not just the transaction itself,” she finally offers. “I always wanted to be better than my mother. Different than her.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize that she was a—”
“She wasn’t a sex worker,” Olivia clarifies. “But she did let men treat her like garbage. Worse than garbage.”
“That’s not you. That’s not us.”
“I didn’t let you call me all of those horrible things?”
“You did,” I admit reluctantly. “But the difference between that and your mother’s situation is that you liked it, Olivia.”
She doesn’t counter my point, but she doesn’t concur with me either. “Davis, I’d like to break the contract,” she says. “From now on, you don’t give me a dime.”
I’m quiet, feeling my stomach tighten at the reality that the end I was dreading is coming two weeks earlier than I planned.
“When we sleep together, it’s because I want to. Is that understood?”
Relief passes over me. “Consider it broken,” I reply. “No more contract, no more honesty clause or stipulations. We’re done with that.”
“Good,” she agrees. “I think it’s much better that way.”
“I do want to say one more thing though,” I add. “One more thing that I can say to you without repercussions or your wrath. Is that okay?”
Her expression is dubious. “Yes,” she says reluctantly. “Go for it.”
“Am I allowed to tell you that I’m dreading the moment that you leave? That it makes me sick to my stomach?”
Olivia lets out a shallow sigh before she nods. “You’re allowed to say that.”
I do.
We fall asleep in each other’s arms, exactly where I know Olivia wants to be. Held. Loved. Cherished. This was what she always wanted, and I spent weeks depriving her of it. This is what she deserved for her entire life when she was dealing with the kinds of trials that I couldn’t even imagine.
Never again.
I would take care of her if she would let me, but I know that she won’t. She took my money in a bullshit contract, but if we were in a real partnership she would never just let me handle things for her. She would want a career. She would want to make her own money. She would want to go to work everyday and make grown men feel like absolute shit when they realize that they’re not on her level.
I would happily let her.
I awaken early the next morning, as usual, content to find Olivia still curled around me. I assess the situation and figure that it might take some maneuvering, but I could probably slide out and get breakfast started without waking her up.
Carefully, I move her delicate arm off of my chest and leave it to rest against my pillow. She stirs, but she doesn’t wake. I tilt down and give her one more kiss on her temple before I turn and shift my legs out from under the covers and let them slide over the edge of the bed until my feet are planted on the heated wooden floors.
It takes me a few beats to register that Kieran is standing in the doorway to my bedroom, staring at us.