“Your brother and sister would understand if you’re pushing yourself too hard.” I emphasize my words.
All he does is work. Can anyone else see the bags under his eyes?
“I just want to be the best I can be. Oh, now that we’re on this topic.”
I watch him sit up and cross the room to grab his guitar, which I like calling his girlfriend.
“Can I play you the new song we just wrote? If you think it’s shit, you have to tell me.”
Giving him my full attention once he sits cross-legged with the instrument in his lap, I lean my back on the headboard.
“Yep, but I charge a million dollars per song,” I say with a cheeky smile.
There’s heat in his stare, and I have to fight back the urge of squirming around.
“I’ll pay you when I become rich and famous.” He throws my words in my face with glee.
I shrug my shoulders, giving him sass back. “I charge interest.”
He kicks my foot, a booming laugh leaving his mouth. “Look at my little gold digger go.”
I kick him back—but a lot harder.
EIGHT
LILY
PRESENT
It hits me all at once—surprise, excitement, hurt, anger, and resentment. The oxygen in my chest disappears, as if the air is now too thick to swallow. I try to blink the feeling away, but it feels like hands are curling around my ribs and pulling them apart. I always wondered if it would feel like time stopped the next time I saw him. I was right.
All the words I thought I would say get lodged in my throat, and the soft hum in my ears a second ago is now a scream.
I can’t do this.
I can’t do this.
Why is he here? Why now, after so many years of radio silence?
Tears sting my eyes, but they don’t fall. Based on the shocked expression on his face, he didn’t anticipate anyone answering the door. As his mouth opens and shuts, like he can’t find the right words, panic takes over every bone in my body, and I slam the door shut in his face.
Gasping, I rest my back on the now-closed door. “What the fuck?” My pulse pounds in my ears.
Seeing his face makes me feel like I’m unraveling from the inside out.
“Lil? Open the door, please.” His voice is as rich as honey as he pleads from the other side of the thin wood that separates us. “Please, I just want to talk to you.”
Oh God. Just hearing his voice takes me back to the day when I learnt he left.
I never felt more scared.
Scared that I was alone.
Afraid something had happened to him.
I waited for this moment for what feels like forever. I craved it so bad. Now, I just want to go back in time to still wonder what happened to us. Anything is better than seeing him right in front of me, with a distraught look on his face, likeIhurt him.
Please. As if.
