But I couldn’t. And you know what? A better daughter would never have these self-pitying feelings. A better daughter would do whatever it took to save her family, period.
“Look, the faster we sell the story, the faster you can get out of it. And then once you’re out of it, you’re free to do whatever you want,” Rebecca said.
“How long will that take?”
“It takes as long as it takes.”
The most unhelpful answer in the history of unhelpful answers.
But what if Mathew moved on before then? I couldn’t tell him to wait around for me, could I? My throat swelled at the realization that I might lose Mathew forever. Before I even knew what I wanted.
“Then Axel can’t date anyone either.” The declaration didn’t make me feel as better as I’d hoped.
“He can’t,” Rebecca agreed, nodding.
A look of panic settled across Axel’s face, like someone had just told him Christmas was canceled. “I can have a woman over to my penthouse. Discreetly.”
“A booty call?” I glared at him.
“A man has needs.” He spread his hands like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.
“Then you’re the neediest man I’ve ever met,” I said, thinking of all the Instagram posts I’d seen of him with a different woman on his arm in every photo. I had nothing against a lifestyle of free love and all that, but that wasn’t the point.
If I couldn’t see Mathew to keep this story alive, then Axel couldn’t see anyone either.
“Any woman I call over would be very discreet,” he assured.
Oh, how noble of him. Discreet booty calls. What a gentleman.
“If I can’t meet Mathew, you can’t have some rando come over for a hookup.”
“She’s right.” Rebecca crossed her arms. “No women.”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
Boy, look at that raging case of panic.
“Axel Pierce, Chicago’s biggest playboy, unable to get some ass,” I quipped. “Must be hard. Literally and figuratively.”
Jeez. I had left the neighborhood of Bratty and entered Bitchville without stopping for directions. I needed to get it together, but something about Axel Pierce made my normal self-control (and evidently kindness) evaporate like ice on hot pavement. His seething resentment infected me like a virus, making me want to hurt him like he did me. It was a vicious cycle—his contempt feeding my hostility, which fed his contempt.
Honestly, of all the people in Chicago—hell, on the entire planet—why did karma decide to shackle me to him?
“What can I say,” Axel sneered. “I’m an ass man.”
“I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
“Now”—Rebecca rubbed her thighs like she was warming up for a marathon—“as we move forward, it will be very important that you and Axel know each other very well. Your homework assignment is to learn personal details about each other that will increase your credibility as a couple.”
“I can google him,” I assured her. I’d already done that, if I was being honest. Not because I cared, obviously. Just … research.
“You need to learn everything about each other. What are your fears? Goals? What’s something in your past that shaped who you are today? The things that couples know about each other.”
Oh, hell to the no. Hard pass.
“We don’t need to know all of that information to sell this love story.” Because, fine, I would rather put my arm around Axel’s hip than divulge any personal information to him. At least physical contact was temporary. Emotional vulnerability was forever.
“At some point, you are going to be giving interviews, and you two will be prepared for them.” Rebecca pointed her finger at us like a mother scolding unruly toddlers. “Got it?”
