Page 50 of Full Out Fiend
Her question twists in my gut. Twice this week, I couldn’t follow through with our plans because I didn’t want her to see me running to the bathroom or getting sick.
“I’m good. I just need to change. I’ll meet you in your room in five.”
I make quick work of throwing my hair into a messy bun and pulling on PJs. By the time I get to her room across the hall, Tahlia has everything set up for us. I grab my favorite blanket and climb on top of the covers, then arrange a pillow behind my head as she adjusts her reading light.
She finds our place and begins, and I do my best to not drift off to sleep as she dives into Percy Jackson’s latest peril. I used to read to her when she was little—but nowadays she reads to me. Our nighttime routine is one of the few traditions I cherish about being back in this house.
I’m grateful my parents don’t look at her the way they look at me. She’s significantly younger—she was an oops baby, arriving fourteen years after I was born, but she still slotted into the role of the favorite naturally.
I don’t mind. She’s my favorite, too. She was my first baby—she always will be. I know she’ll be thrilled when she finds out she’s going to be an aunt. Tahlia’s the singular bright spot for me while I’m stuck in this house.
I yawn when she turns the page. “I hope you get to go on a big adventure like this someday, TT.”
“I don’t want adventure. I just want to find my own Prince Charming like you,” she retorts.
Ugh.
I’ve tried to shield her from the reality of what happened between Anthony and me. She knows we canceled the wedding, but I refuse to speak poorly about him in front of her. Which means she only knows partial truths and half the story. She has the luxury of still believing in fairy tales.
“Maybe you’ll get both,” I suggest. “I think living a life you love is more important than finding a Prince Charming. Especially at age twelve,” I add as I tickle her side.
“Is that the real reason you aren’t getting married?”
It’s not. But maybe it should have been.
The saddest part of it all isn’t canceling the wedding or ending a decade-long relationship. It’s the harsh reality of how close I came to settling for so much less than what I deserved. I see that now. But I’m ashamed that it took me so long. If I’m honest with myself, I may have never seen it if Anthony hadn’t taken his “free pass,” and I hadn’t shared that night with Fielding.
“I’m not getting married because it didn’t feel right. I decided I needed a different kind of adventure.” My answer is vague, but someday I’ll tell it to her straight. And someday I hope she’ll understand. My hand drifts to my low belly again, my body already keenly aware of the precious gift it protects. I can’t help but yawn and snuggle into the pillow.
“Don’t fall asleep,” she whines, nudging my knee as I shake my head and try to keep my eyes open.
“I’m not,” I insist through the yawn. “Keep going. I’m listening, I swear.”
I wake up in her bed around two with the urge to pee but smile when I have to peel her lanky limbs off me before making my way to the bathroom and back to my own bed.
Chapter 29
Fielding
“Fuck,bro.Ican’tbelieve this is happening.”
I let his words settle into my bones as I reach for my acoustic guitar and plop back down on the couch.
Not believing it wasn’t an option for me. Time to exist in a state of disbelief was a luxury I wasn’t afforded. I went from desperately trying to find Daphne, to being hit with life-altering news, to then being abandoned (or so I thought) in the alley.
I hate asking for help, but I did it anyway, and Dem and Maddie were here in record time. Then, before I could even talk things through with my brother, Daphne magically appeared at the house, and all was right with my world.
I’m suffering from emotional whiplash. But I’m also on cloud nine. I strum the chords to one of my favorite John Mayer songs as I consider everything that’s happened over the last twenty-four hours.
“I can’t, either. But not in a bad way. I sort of feel like I won the lottery,” I admit.
“Are you kidding me?” Dempsey challenges, rubbing the top of his head against mine. I grunt, then use my legs to push against the arm of the sofa and dislodge him. We wrestle for dominance before finally settling back down, our legs hanging off opposite armrests as our heads meet in the middle of the couch.
“I’ve been thinking about her nonstop since the night I met her, Dumpy. At first, I thought it was because I had a responsibility to tell her about the condom… but honestly, I just wanted to be near her again. I feel… different when she’s around. Calm. Settled. Whole.”
He lets out a long, exasperated sigh. A sigh I know all too well.
“I’m not gonna fuck this up,” I vow, strumming on my guitar quietly. Maddie already went to bed. They have to get up before dawn to catch their flight back to California.