The Life You Stole (Life Duet 2)

“Do you remember when I took you to New York for your twenty-seventh birthday?”

I hesitated before giving a single nod. Graham’s reminiscing often ended in making me feel bad about myself, bad about him, or epically confused. I wasn’t in the mood for any of that. Ronin’s intimacy issue from the previous night weighed heavily on my conscience.

Rejected.

I know he didn’t mean to make me feel rejected. He couldn’t control his inability to get an erection. However, my mind jumped to blaming myself for not being sexy enough, as if that erection or lack thereof measured my sex appeal.

“When we passed that little soap shop in Chelsea, you told me you wanted a bath and body shop. You told me it was your dream, and you didn’t care how crazy it sounded since you had a college degree. Then you said the only thing better than owning a shop of your own was not having to worry about debt like your parents worried about it for so long.”

Again, I returned a cautious nod, narrowing my eyes a bit. That trip imprinted many great memories into the storybook in my head. Graham treated me like a cherished friend. We ate at the most expensive restaurants, took in a Knicks game with courtside seats, two Broadway shows, and several days of shopping.

“Well, here you go.” He reached into the pocket of his light gray suit jacket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to me.

“What’s this?”

“The deed.”

I unfolded it. “To what?” The tiny print of legal jargon made my head ache.

“This building.”

“I … I don’t understand.”

He shrugged. “It’s a small building, more of a nuisance than anything. You might as well just take it.”

“Graham …” My jaw melted to the floor. “You can’t just gift me a building worth a lot of money.”

“Why not?”

“B—” I choked on my tongue. “Because it’s insane!”

“You’re my best friend. I want you to have it. Ronin is my friend too. You both deserve to have a life where you don’t sweat the little things like … rent.”

“Graham … this isn’t a deed to my house. This is a building with other businesses paying rent. You’re not simply giving me a rent-free space. You’re giving me a source of revenue that extends far beyond this shop. I can’t accept this.” I shoved the piece of paper into his chest.

“Why not?” He took a step back, sliding his hands into his pants pockets to distance himself from the rejected gift.

“Because it’s too much.”

“I paid thousands of dollars in medical bills for your parents. That wasn’t too much?”

I shook my head. “That was different. I would have sold my soul to the Devil to get them the treatment they needed.”

He chuckled. “So, I’m the Devil?”

“If the shoe fits.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Evelyn. This is nothing to me, and you know it. But if anything ever happened to Ronin and you were on your own, this ease of financial burden would mean a whole helluva lot, and you know it.”

“Why would you think something is going to happen to Ronin?”

“No.” He rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I’m just stating the facts. Things happen. Things we don’t expect. Things we can’t control. Do you really think I thought my wife would fall off the side of a mountain?”

I flinched, the memories burned like acid slithering up my throat.

“Exactly.” He took three steps forward, resting his hands on my cheeks. “Just say ‘thank you,’ and let’s forget about it.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, suffocating under the weight of his gift but losing my will to fight the senseless battle. Graham mastered manipulation, always getting his way. I knew this would drag on forever if I tried to reject his gift.

He smiled. “See … wasn’t that easy?”

I didn’t feed his satisfaction by agreeing with him. And he didn’t let go of my face. Then it just got awkward.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked with a slight nervous vibrato to my voice.

“Like what?” He rubbed his thumb over my cheek. Graham liked control. It was his favorite game. I liked taking it from him. That was my favorite game. But sometimes it didn’t feel like a game.

“Like you should look at Lila … and only Lila.”

“Oh, Evelyn …” He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead like he’d done a million times before, but it didn’t feel like those other million times. “I don’t give Lila a look. We communicate in a much more physical way.”

He bent her over a chair and stuck his dick in her ass on their wedding day, an awful image still in my head.

I swallowed.

He smirked.

“How are my babes? Is Franz playing T-ball yet?” Graham let his hands fall from my face, returning them to his pockets.

It took a few seconds to rebound from the whiplash of envisioning Lila and him having sex to Franz playing T-ball. “If you want babes to play T-ball, then maybe you should have kids of your own.”