"You're just gonna let him boss you around like that?" Liam asks, bewildered.
"He's right. Everything he said is right," I reply quietly with a shrug.
Liam raises an eyebrow. "I guess the similarities are only skin deep. Your mother would've never let me speak for her," he muses.
I grab Cole's forearm to keep him from moving forward and take a long, deep breath. "Thanks for that bit of information. Maybe if you had been there for me twelve years ago, I would've made a note of it. You weren't, though. I know nothing about you, nothing about my mother, and you know nothing about me, so you shouldn't make assumptions. If I had to make my assumptions about you, I would pretty much say what Cole already said about you. You're a coward for being too scared to go get his own daughter, a deadbeat for going on with your life with your new family not giving her a second thought, and a loser for even pretending that you missed me to begin with. So yeah, I can speak for myself, but I don't have anything nice to say to you. And since the people that DID raise me taught me how to be a lady, I was going to let you off the hook. Now that you got me started though, you wanna get to know me? Fuck you, because the only man I need in my life is the one standing beside me, like he always has been."
I grab Cole's hand before Liam or anybody can say another word and pull him toward the door where we came from, glaring at Camden as I pass him. I stop in front of Brian and examine his face, his glossy eyes, and take a breath.
"Maybe we can get to know each other someday," I offer.
He smiles warmly. "You're always welcome here, baby girl," he says before pulling me into a hug. "Don't let him fool you, your pops did miss you. I'll get to the bottom of that, but I'm glad you put him in his place. Don't believe everything you hear, love. Not even from him. Not even from Shelley. I did try, I did look for her—I sent her flowers with those kids every time I knew they were going over there. She just refused them. Love always tries, and I never stopped."
Tears form in my eyes as I nod at him, thinking of Shelley's sadness over her lost love. I take a breath, blinking, and signal at Connor to get us out of there. When we walk through the corridor again, I pause to look at all of the photos, paying close attention to all of them in detail. I run a trembling hand over the one of my mother with Aunt Shelley, or Grandma Shelley. Cole hugs me from behind and coos sweetly in my ear about how beautiful they were, making me turn around and sob into his shirt as he embraces me.
"This is too much for one person," I muffle against his chest.
"I know, baby. I know," he says quietly as he finger combs my hair.
"So, what do you wanna do for you birthday?" Becky asks in the middle of our conversation about baby bedding.
I purse my lips and switch the phone to my other ear so I can hold it with my shoulder. "I don't know. Nothing. Take a vacation. Tan. I really don't know," I reply with a shrug, making me drop the phone.
"...not know?" Becky asks when I put the phone back up to my ear.
"I don't know, Becks, really. It's not a huge deal, just another birthday, you know I've never really celebrated them anyway."
"Yeah, but you're over that. Maybe you can actually act like a grown up and have a party this year," she suggests perkily, making me laugh.
"Seriously?" I ask with an eye roll, even though she can't see me.
"Yes, seriously! You have never had a party!" she pouts.
I groan. "Becky! We had parties all the time!"
"No, we didn't! We cut a freaking cake between the six of us! That's not a party! I'm talking balloons, invitations, ACTUAL GUESTS!"
I laugh, despite myself. "I'll consider it. I'll look at invitations online or something."
"You can't plan your own party!" she squeals.
"Then why the hell are you telling me any of this?" I ask, annoyed, as she laughs on the other end of the line.
We go back and forth about the party for about an hour, until I finally get her to hang up. She and Greg are staying here for the weekend, and my birthday just so happens to land on Saturday, so that should be fun...or not. I finish doing the dishes before getting my laptop out to search for information on the Bar exam. I'm considering taking it in a couple of weeks since I was already signed up for it, even though I know I'll probably fail since I haven't studied. I just don't care anymore; my heart's not in it like it was before.
Cole has tried to be home a lot more lately and has done some of his interviews through Skype, which is pretty cool. He interviews somebody in our office room, while I watch on in our living room. As I'm dusting the desk where he sits, I spot a little post-it with my name on it. Picking it up curiously, I laugh as I read it.
B, thanks for picking up my desk! I love you, your future husband.
Ever since I left the hospital, he's been telling everybody that I'm his wife, and I keep correcting him. So he's decided to call himself my future husband instead. The look on people's faces when he says that term is pretty funny, but the look on his when they ask to look at my engagement ring is priceless. It always leaves him in a jam, which he gets out of fairly quickly. Usually by making up some crazy story about how we had to take it to the jeweler to resize or how I lost it while I was doing dishes.
The ringing of my phone in the other room snaps me out of my distraction and I jog to pick it up. I consider not answering when I see that Dean is calling, but figure I might as well.
"Hello?"
"Hey, chick. Long time no hear," Dean says and I hear him inhale a drag of his cigarette.
"Yeah. What's up?"
"Hmm. Don't wanna talk?" Dean asks, reading my thoughts.
"Not really," I reply bluntly.
He exhales. "Nothing's up. Just wanted to check up on you. Heard you saw your dad and shit."
"Yep, that happened. Fun times," I deadpan.
He laughs. "You mad at me?"
"Nope, nothing to be mad about. I just...I don't really want to make Cole mad...again," I explain. "I know you don't get it and I know he doesn't understand our friendship, but you realize if I had to choose between you-"
"You'd pick him, I know," he offers. "Nothing wrong with that, chick. I'm just looking out for you."
I sigh. "I know."
"I heard your birthday's coming up," he says, changing the subject.
"You hear a lot of things," I reply.
"I do."
"All right, Dean, I gotta go, but maybe we can talk soon?" I ask hopefully. I just have to make sure I don't keep Cole in the dark about our conversations and I know he'll be fine with them. Baby steps, though.
"Hey," he whispers loudly before I can hang up. "I've been following Benny around, listening to his conversations, that sorta shit. You need to be careful, pay attention to your surroundings, pay attention to the people around you. Have those cops come back to talk to you?"
"Yeah, but they left me alone when I told them I really didn't remember anything," I whisper back.
"That's not why," he whispers harshly. "I can't talk right now, but be careful with those cops! And pay attention to your surroundings! I'm following him everywhere, but still. Shit, I gotta go."
"WHAT? DEAN!" I shout at the dead line.
My mouth hangs open as I stare at the blank screen. Noise coming from the other side of the door makes my eyes snap up. I make out moving shadows in the space under the door and gulp down my apprehension as I take a step closer to it. My heavy breathing accelerates when the doorknob turns a couple of times and a man mumbles a low curse. Finally reaching the peephole, I tiptoe up and lean against the door, squinting to make out the tall figure on the other side. He crouches down and sorts through a brief case before standing back up. I let out a shaky breath when our eyes meet and sag against the door before unlocking and opening it.
"What's wrong?" Cole asks with a confused look.
I shake my head. "What happened to your keys?"
"I don't know what the hell I did with them! I just had them in my hands and now I can't find them anywhere!" he replies, fl
ustered.
I lead him inside and take in his nice business attire, navy blue pants, a white long sleeve shirt, gold tie, and a navy blue jacket hanging over his forearm. My eyes wander over his face, his defined jaw, his plump lips, his ever so slightly crooked nose, his beautiful, yet tired, green eyes, his slicked back growing hair. I trail back down his face, licking my lips at the sight of his slightly parted lips.
"Are you going to let me fuck you or are you just going to do it all on your own, standing from there?" he asks, making me smile.