Juna is only a few years older than I am. She bucked the system. Married a man outside the chosen after promising she’d marry someone else. It was the second-biggest scandal within the Falcon family. I, of course, have always been at the top and most embarrassing one.
No matter how often we clash, my sisters and I fight to stay close. Same fucked-up house, same baggage. Each of us carries our own scars. Still, we’ve made a point to back each other no matter what. They are the one constant I can count on.
We chat for about an hour. Suze fills me in on what’s happening back home. Hearing it all only makes me happier I got out when I did. I know my family won’t be thrilled when I bring Ingrid home, but they’ll get over it. I’m not backing down. My life, my rules, not theirs.
When I walk back into the living room after seeing my sister out, I find Ingrid curled up watching a show, laughing. My heart swells seeing her there, looking like she belongs.
In that instant I make a solemn vow—nothing and no one is screwing with what we’re building. Not even my goddamn crazy family.
Chapter 18
Ingrid
As luck would have it, shortly after Darius’s sister left, he received an urgent call from a client. Cutting off all our plans and sending him to pack. The gravity of the situation pulled him away, forcing him onto a plane bound for South Africa, where he needed to handle the matter himself.
I’d been disappointed, though I can’t explain why. There will always be something standing in our way. I’ll play second fiddle to his precious job, knowing the familiar sting of his ambition taking precedence over my needs. My childhood taught me not to expect more from men driven like he is.
I used to tell myself that being with a man like Darius would never work. Too much, too complicated. But watching how determined he is, I’m starting to believe we just might be able to pull this off.
It’s the little things he’s done since moving me in. I’ve seen a whole different side of him, one I wouldn’t have seen if we weren’t living in the same house. Then when he left again, I got the chance to really get to know a whole new side of him. He wasdetermined to prove himself, to show me he wasn’t like the men I’d been comparing him to.
The Monday after he left is when things for us really started to turn around. The insistent beep of my phone cut through the early morning stillness, delivering a message of affirmation—simple words, yet they carried unexpected weight.
DARIUS:
I hired a driver. He’ll be outside at 8, drop you near class, and pick you up after 1. If you need to go anywhere else, he’ll be on standby—day or night—just text him. I wasn’t sure about your PT schedule, so make sure he knows those as well.
ME:
I can use an Uber. You didn’t need to hire a driver for me.
DARIUS:
…
ME:
Those three dots keep appearing and disappearing. Just say what you have to say. I can take it.
DARIUS:
Ok. Let’s see if that’s true.
DARIUS:
Maybe it’s because I don’t want my girlfriend, whose parents screwed her over, to stress about the bullshit details. If I were there, I’d be the one driving you. Since I’m not, I hired a car service I trust. Is it so bad that, as your boyfriend, I want to take care of you?
ME:
…
DARIUS:
Now who needs to just say it?
ME:
When did we decide we were boyfriend and girlfriend? I don’t recall having that conversation.
