“Did you order something special from Amazon?” Mrs. Yang says, her eyes bright and eager. She has to know whatever I’m getting is unusual—most of the time nobody cares to text or call you to make sure you’re home when they deliver.
“No. Why don’t I put these in your kitchen for you?” I turn to Chuck and Norman. “Can you give me a second?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I nod my thanks and take the grocery bags into Mrs. Yang’s kitchen. I put them on the counter, then head back out to the hall.
Mrs. Yang follows. I let everyone into my small apartment. If the delivery men are shocked at how shabby it is, they don’t show it. But the boxes take up more than half the space. I make sure everything matches the inventory sheet Norman hands me, and sign off on it. There’s no way I’m letting anything fall through a crack when I have no clue how much it’s going to cost me. Grant will make sure I pay.
After they’re gone, Mrs. Yang turns to me, her eyes wide. “You bought all this stuff?” She gestures at the Mt. Everest of…things.
“Not me. A…guy.”
“Oooh, he must have done something very bad, yes? Are you going to forgive him?”
“These aren’t really about anything he did.” They’re more about what he’s planning to do to me.
“You don’t know because you’re so young,” Mrs. Yang says. “When men want to say sorry to their friends, they punch each other, you know? But they can’t punch women, so they give us gifts. My husband did. And my sons. They bring flowers. The bigger and more expensive the flowers, the badder they were, you know?” She gauges the sheer volume of stuff before us. “It must have been terrible. Maybe he hit you?”
I don’t offer the humiliating details. What he did was just as bad. He stomped on my innocence, my dreams. He killed something inside me fourteen years ago.
She frowns. “Well, whatever it was, don’t forgive him. Men who hit women are bad news.” She wags a finger, just in case I miss her disapproval.
“Don’t worry. I won’t.”
Chapter Forty-One
Grant
It’s early in the morning, and I lie in bed, thinking about the proposal I received. It looked okay, but something about the way the potential market size was calculated bothers me. It seems overly pessimistic, which is odd. Most pitchesoverstate what’s possible in order to get the maximum amount of funding.
I should take another look, just to make sure. And it should be with some coffee in my system, but I don’t feel like getting out of bed. It’s quiet and peaceful and—
My bedroom door crashes open. Aspen saunters in. She’s in an emerald-green dress that fits her like it was designed for her and shows entirely too much cleavage and leg. The color brings out her eyes, and she moves with the confidence she used to exude when we were in college.
“What are you doing here?” I say, half sitting up. I don’t recall giving her the security code for my place. And she doesn’t have the keys.
She ignores me and walks toward my closet. I jump to my feet to stop her. I don’t want her anywhere near my personal space, especially my closet.
But it’s too late. She slides the doors open with a loud bang, then starts laughing at what’s hanging inside.
“Oh my God, this is so ridiculous!” She looks at me over a shoulder, her eyes blazing with scorn. “You’re just so pathetic, thinking I could ever be the girl you thought you knew.”
Her words cut, each deeper than the one before.
She turns to face me full on. “I’m aspiring to more.Muchmore, while you’re living in the past. Grow the fuck up.”
I struggle to come up with something just as hurtful to say to her. I want her to know the pain I’m feeling—
She turns and loops her arms around…Dad?
How and when did he come into my bedroom? I’veneverlet him inside my home. And most importantly, why the hell is she pressing her body againsthim?
An urge to tear her from him burns through me. I start to move toward them, but my limbs feel sluggish.
He puts his hands around her waist, and she rises on her toes and kisses him. My belly roils, and I feel like projectile-vomiting on them. I throw a punch at his face because that’s what he deserves for touching her. Once I knock his teeth out, I’m going to grab her and—
I miss. Dad smirks and Aspen giggles. An alarm blares next to my head, making me wince.
