I put my other hand on my heart. "What if I can't handle that? Or his level of obsession? And what about his need to be involved in every aspect of my life?" I swallow, then look around and lean forward to come in closer to Lyndall. "And if he's like this with me, what's he going to be like with his own kid? He's going to bring new meaning to the term helicopter parent."
"You love him, right?"
I sidestep that because what I feel seems too complicated for just love. "It's not about love. I'm just worried he might care too much."
She scoffs. "You mean love. And I don't think anyone can love too much."
She's not even sixteen. It's one of those things I have to keep reminding myself of, because Lyndall's smart and wise, and it's easy to forget to her love is all capitals and Montagues and Capulets. She's high drama about it.
But I know people can care too much. They can love in the wrong way.
And I find the words. "Sometimes, I worry he'll end up suffocating me."
For a moment, she looks outraged but then her shoulderssag. "You don't mean pillow over the head, you mean feel like, right?"
"Right."
She rolls her eyes. "We-ell, maybe you should sit down with Enzo and draw some boundaries. Dad sent me to therapy for a bit, and that woman was on and on about boundaries. I thought it was dumb at the time because, like, boundaries and Dad? Ha!" She shakes her head. "They make sense. I can see how they work, though. It's like a contract with a person. And I know Enzo. He respects things like that. Set some boundaries."
"When did you get wise?" I ask because it makes sense.
Boundaries might be the only way to give Enzo and me a chance. And a future if there's one in the cards.
She huffs. "I've always been wise."
"You're only fifteen."
"Almost sixteen, practically an adult. Jeez." Then she sighs, and the sound breaks my heart. "But it's probably not even the boundaries. I'd love to do it. I've been a by-product and unwanted by everyone but Enzo. I love his heavy-handed ways. He's the best brother."
"What about your father?"
"Dad?" She laughs. "He wouldn't notice a boundary if it slapped him in the face. He's strict but wants me away from him. I don't know, but I think he hates me."
I think so too.
I can see she loves the brute of a man who is her father. And he has forced her to grow up in a way by sending her away, leaving her in the care of staff, controlling and emotionless around her. All she seems to want is love. And he can't give it.
My heart swells, and I squeeze her hand back. "It's all going to be all right, Lyndall. And your dad is a fool to ignore a great daughter like you."
She blushes. "You know, I need a checkup soon. I'm going to ask for you to come with me. That way, we can get the baby checked out. You're keeping her, right?"
"It's not a her or a him, it's cells."
"Will you promise me if we go, you'll tell Enzo after?"
I look at Lyndall.
"Sure, I promise. I'll tell him then."
Chapter Eighteen
ENZO
"You've gota Brooklyn office and a Manhattan one. Also one in Queens. We could've used one of those." I look around Dad's study and help myself to a drink.
"You want to go to Queens, Enzo?" He grabs his good bottle and pours himself a decent amount.
He leaves it on his desk. It's an invitation, or he just left it because. I don't give a fuck.
