Page 89 of Never Till Now

Chapter 25

Lauren

The past two months have proven how every day won’t heal certain things unless I figure out how to shut them off. It’s hard to do when it is about the person who helps heal your wounds. Each task is a constant reminder of him. Every spot of my condo, every bite of ice cream and even my ears hear his damn compliments when I put my scrubs on. I’m haunted by a living being I can no longer see.

I wanted to do nothing more than break down and cling to Adam like a pathetic child and beg him to stay. Beg him to give up everything because he needs me. But it hurts less to accept the fact he is leaving and shut myself down. For once, I wanted someone to have the mirrored fear of losing me. They’d do anything to have me. To feel the real sense of being wanted. But there is no competition when it comes to family.

“Lasagna is getting cold.” Lloyd finishes his last bite.

I blink down, phasing back to reality and push the sloppy square around my plate. This frozen lasagna is nowhere near as delectable as Adam’s homemade one. And there he is again. I knew he’d ruin more than just sex for me.

I’ve been back in San Diego for two nights, and the first night, I broke down telling Lloyd about everything that’s been going on the past few months. Lloyd received more of my truths than my therapist. Our first heart-to-heart was better than I could have imagined.

“I’m not hungry.” I shrug.

“Hopefully, Rachel can cheer you up enough to eat tomorrow.”

“Don’t you have a board game get-together tonight?” I try to change the subject.

“I told Heather I may not show if my daughter didn’t want to join.” His words flow out so smooth my fork drops, clanking to the cheap plate.

“D-daughter?” My brain freezes, trying to filter through any previous reference of being called that until now. I wasn’t adopted, nor ever referenced as his child growing up.

“Yes, I tell people you are my daughter. I know we never talked about it, and we had our basic routine through the years, but Marsha and I weren’t able to have children.” He folds his hands on the table, looking directly at me. “We decided to start fostering children with hopes of finding the right fit. There was something about you that took over her heart.” A tinge of red appears on his cheeks as his smile pushes through. “She knew from the first week you arrived that she wanted to adopt you.”

My head feels light. I may faint, or vomit.

“As you know, she got sick shortly after your arrival and then we lost her. I knew with her medical bills that I couldn’t afford to adopt you and give up the check from the state.” His eyes start to water as his hand brushes over his chin. “I didn’t know if you wanted an old, widowed man to even adopt you. I shut down with grief and tried to navigate what raising a teenage girl would be like without a wife.”

The pieces click into place as I recall our comfortable routine of sitcom TV and frozen dinners. Our shared love for board games and Lloyd’s ability to not press for questions about my past made it easy to go through my motions. If anyone was close to a parental figure, it was Lloyd. I didn’t know how to handle what he had been through, like he didn’t know how to handle my trauma. Our routine made us self-aware of each other’s lack of emotional met needs. He also expected that I’d stay with him during university to save me money. It’s not common for kids in the system to get to stay with a foster parent once they age out.

“How come you never told me about Marsha’s plan before?”

“I thought it would be a slap in the face that we would have adopted you, but then she ended up dying and I needed your money to keep Marsha’s dying wish; To keep you safe and give you a chance for a bright future.”

My lungs deflate with the most foreign emotion I’ve longed to experience. “Well, Dad.” The word rolls off my tongue for the first time in twenty-five years and my stomach sends a wave of butterflies through me. But it feels right. “Let’s go win some games.”

Lloyd wanted me from the start. I take a moment to relish in this light I feel fluttering through my heart. Is this what the Grinch felt as his heart grew a few sizes bigger? Accepting that he cares and wants me is something my therapist will be proud of. I’m proud. My lungs expand with joy, and I exhale with relief, knowing he won’t break my heart or choose someone else over me. Finally, I’m someone’s daughter.

A silk bag claps against my back as Rachel wraps me in a tight hug. She pulls back, giving me a once-over and I notice she ditched her long braids for a short pixie cut. It’s very fairy-like and goes with her fake triangle ears. The glitter on her eyes and winged eyeliner are cute, but the giant purple sweatshirt to her knees and bright-yellow leggings don’t add up.

“Dear dildos, my nasty Nordic!” She brushes past me, entering the house. “You look miserably unfucked.” I say a silent prayer that Lloyd, I mean Dad, had decided to run out to the grocery store.

“I’ve been too sad to fire up the toys.”

A grin appears as the silk bag is shoved into my chest. “You should have come to visit last week. The toy convention was phenomenal. I’m finally a rep for a company and I acquired quite the assortment of toys for you to explore with.”

“Oh, boy.” I laugh, wondering what took Rachel this long to become a toy rep.

“There’s even this growing fairy peen that will have your eyes rolling.”

Now the hair and fake ears make sense.

“Are you over the dragon phase then?”

“No, that will always be hard to compete with.” She winks.

“Why are we still friends?” I laugh, falling back on the couch and cross my arms against my chest, feeling guarded if she brings up the obvious difficult topic that I desperately want to avoid.