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But I don’t say any of those words. My brain is crowded with my sister’s advice of ‘give her money’, Athena’s advice of ‘give her room’ and Cullen’s obvious disregard for thesafeoption. ‘Medicine will fight’. No. The medicine won’t always fight. Life isn’t always that fricking kind.
“So… yesterday,” Yaya signs, “with Henry, I know how that looked, but I had to go with him.”
“There’s no need to explain,” I sign.
She stops and assesses me.
“This was a temporary arrangement anyway and you are free to speak to whomever you want to.”
Her eyes widen a bit. “A temporary arrangement. What does that mean?”
I hesitate. Those pretty honey-brown eyes are looking at me like she doesn’t recognize me. Familiar wrinkles appear between her eyebrows. She’s annoyed. By what? That I’m the one calling it off instead of her?
It’s over.
I’m not going to play second fiddle to anyone, no matter how much I love Yaya. Why should I keep fighting when every step has been met with resistance?
She’s with Henry now. I’m sure he’s wasting no time laying out his case for why she should choose him instead of me. It wouldn’t be hard. He’s everything Yaya wants—someone who knows her in and out, someone who’s deaf and can understand the world in the way she does.
I had to fight and claw my way into her heart. I thought I made it, limping and bleeding, over the finish line.
But Henry?
One hop and a skip and he’s already there.
Should I stay in this battle when the stakes are rigged against me?
It’s not in my DNA to quit when I want something, but I also believe that too many doors closing means it’s not meant to be.
And maybe that’s the truth I haven’t been able to accept with Yaya.
Maybe I wasn’t meant for love. Maybe all I can do is work and build my father’s legacy in the company, rather than build a family of my own.
“My sister is getting out of rehab early,” I sign.
Yaya blinks once. Twice. She’s trying to process what I’m telling her underneath it all.
“Talia’s moving in with her.”
She blinks more rapidly.
“I’ll transfer the money to your account as outlined in the contract.”
Her mouth falls slightly open and then she scoffs, disgust pooling in her eyes. I harden my heart and do what needs to be done. Pulling out the contract from my pocket, I tear it into two pieces and then four.
Yaya flinches in time to the rips.
Slowly, I let the papers flutter to the table and sign, “There’s no more contract, Yaya. No more reason for us to fake this.”
Still, some part of me is hoping.Tell me this stopped being fake a long time ago. Tell me you don’t need a contract to be with me.
I won’t force her to say it. Won’t push her. The contract is no longer binding her to me. She has a choice now.
A frustrated look pinches her face and she rummages in her purse. Pulling out the black card I gave her, she smacks it on the table. Nostrils flaring, she signs, “Keep your money, Dare. I don’t want it. Any of it.”
The walls close in on me.
I hear the finality in her words. Yaya storms to the exits and the doors crash shut behind her.