Page 52 of Hard to Love

I walk farther out on the deck that overlooks the Pacific Ocean and away from where Stevie sits just inside the house. Where she hasn’t really moved from in the past forty-eight hours.

“I couldn’t leave her there.” It’s all I say, and I’m still not certain what to make of those five words. My decision. Nor do I acknowledge how seeing her like a hollow shell of herself feels either.

I glance over at Stevie sitting on the couch, her face toward the ocean. Her skin is pale, her cheeks look gaunt, and her eyes now look too big for her face. Her hair is pulled up in a topknot and she has the same tracksuit she had on when I picked her up two days ago.

“We need to cancel all the events you planned for her. Give her downtime to—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

The line falls silent as we both struggle with what it feels like to feel helpless.

“So what now?” Carson asks, breaking the silence. “The story is taking on a life of its own without her making a statement.”

“Hell if I know.” I chuckle softly, knowing she can’t hear me. “I figured I’d give her a couple of days to process then force her to address it in one way or another. Her phone is dead. She hasn’t picked it up since we left the hotel so I know she’s not seeing the chaos.”

“Chaos that’s only being noticed because Stevie is who she is.”

“Exactly,” I murmur.

“What are your thoughts on this Mary Johnson lady?”

“Don’t you know? I thought you’d be able to tell me.”

“I know nothing about her. I called Liam’s lawyer for some insight. The same one who had informed me of Liam’s wish for me to manage Stevie after he passed.”

“And?”

“He’s handled Liam’s affairs for years. The man could have been full of bullshit when he told me he’d never heard of her—attorney-client privilege and all of that—but you know I can read people pretty well, and I genuinely think he was telling the truth.”

“Shit.”

“That pretty much sums it up.” He chuckles in frustration. “So what’s your take on this woman?”

“My first thought was that Stevie needed to demand a DNA test but then I wondered what would that help? If she is her mom, will that only make the hurt worse? If she isn’t, then this whole farce could be over but Stevie would still be hurt.” I take a seat as a huge swell crashes on the beach below.

“And the payments? She says she has records of them.”

“Payments can be made for a lot of reasons—alimony, business reasons, to keep her out of his daughter’s fucking life because she’s a washed-up druggie needing her next fix. That’s my bet. That this is all about the money.”

“Mine too. How do we make this go away?”

“Let it die? Keep her here and let the news cycle move on? If we don’t give the fire oxygen, it will die. You’re the one who taught me that.”

“You’re fine with her staying there? This coming from the man who walked away from her?”

But I went back.

“I can work from here and she can train away from the public eye. There’s a private tennis court here that Kellen can work with her on, and I have a weight room downstairs she can lift in. Her bodyguards have already taken up residence in the granny flat next door. I mean, is it ideal? No. But it’s going to have to work.”

There is a beat of silence. “Why?”

And I know that why means a million things. Why did I walk away originally? Why did I come back? Why have I let her get to me when I won’t admit it?

“Because like with you, there’s just something about this woman—even at her wildest—that gets under your skin. Something you can’t put your finger on but that you can’t walk away from.”

“I trust you.” It’s three words, but ones I’ve never heard uttered from his lips. And they simultaneously fill me with pride and terror that I’m going to mess this up.

We finish talking about a few more things and when I hang up, Stevie is still sitting there like a ghost on my couch.