Chapter Twenty-One

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Leah

 

 

 

Being back home felt freer than it ever had before. Maybe because I knew I was about to go back to school, and after that I would be getting my own place and moving on. This was the last summer I would truly live here, and that was both exhilarating and sad. Sometimes new phases of life sneak up on you. I should have seen this one coming, but I wasn’t ready to embrace it before. Now, I was starting to feel like I was ready.

And there was also my weekend with Dom. That’s how I was starting to think of the past weekend. I mean, sure, I had some great memories of the festival, but all the really great ones featured him. And the best one of all was the one I was trying so hard not to think about, because it left me unsure and confused and, of course, totally turned on.

How did I go from practically being a virgin to having a huge fuckfest that I’d thoroughly enjoyed? I could still feel the tenderness between my legs, and the tingling desire running through my veins. How did I move on to college boys or the corporate professionals I would eventually find myself working with, after that? How did I move on from that at all? In the car on the way home, he’d been so sweet and hesitant about confirming that we were done that I’d put everything I had into acting cool and like it wasn’t a big deal. But I’d been getting this feeling in my stomach almost like dread every time I thought about it, that told me maybe it was. A huge, life-changing deal. And that’s where the confusion came in. I didn’t want to be one of those girls who mistook great sex for something more. I’d never had great sex before Dom. Not even close. What if that’s all it was? A chemical reaction courtesy of seven or eight fantastic orgasms trying to make me feel things I shouldn’t.

It didn’t matter, anyway. He’d been clear from the start that nothing could develop between us. His job was too important to him, and while I knew he was attracted to me, there wasn’t the slightest bit of evidence he felt anything beyond that. I just needed to take a step back from it all, let the leftover high dissipate, and then I’d be able to see things more clearly.

It wasn’t like I didn’t have enough to distract me in the meantime. Davis was officially gone from my dad’s company, though I still hadn’t heard whether he’d been fired or resigned. I was a bit saddened by this, because even though he could be a giant prick, he’d been around so long that he felt a bit like extended family. But without Davis around, I had some things to talk to my dad about. And where this subject was concerned, I definitely had my head on straight by now.

“So you had a good time at the festival?” my dad asked, as we lounged in the media room that looked out to the back patio and built in barbeque deck. It was one of the more casual common rooms in the house, with soft plush blue furniture, a giant TV and stereo system no one ever used, and whimsical art and knick-knacks that were inspired by the beach. Those were all Liz’s, of course. She loved the beach. Not the beaches up here, but the beaches along Florida and the southern coast.

“I had the best time,” I told him. “Thanks again for letting me go.”

“And Weber? How do you feel about the job he did?”

I looked at him oddly, not sure why he was asking about Dominic out of the blue like this. I’d already had a meeting with Thomas in which he’d interrogated me over Davis’ behavior, and out of some leftover sense of loyalty I’d kept my answers vague and not very enlightening. “He was fine,” I said. “Especially when everything happened with Davis. He diffused the situation as much as he could, and made me return to the hotel even though the festival wasn’t over.”

My dad’s lips pursed as if he’d tasted something unpleasant, and I realized it was probably the mention of Davis. Davis had been one of his favorites for a long time, and he couldn’t have been happy to see him go. That led me once more to wonder if Davis had resigned, because it was hard to imagine my dad firing him no matter what he’d done. And I was fairly certain he didn’t even know about the biggest thing Davis had done, the most damaging thing he’d said.

“Did Davis get fired?” I asked then.

He gave me a dark look. “That is none of your business. All you need to know is that he no longer works for us.”

Well, it was worth a shot. “Okay. There’s something I wanted to ask you about, though. Something about my mom.”

His eyebrows shot up. “What does that have to do with Davis?”

“Nothing, except he was the one who told me. I want you to know, though, he didn’t mean to let it slip, and he only said it out of loyalty to you. Because I was being kind of a brat.”

“What did he let slip?”

I took a deep breath. “He said that you tried to get Mom to stay. After you guys split up, before she moved to California. He said you were going to buy her an apartment out here, that you begged her not to go. And that you did it for me. So she’d stay in my life.”

He just looked at me, nothing in his expression changing. Emotion clogged up my throat out of nowhere, completely unexpected to me, and it made the rest of the words hard to get out. “Is that true?”

“It was a long time ago. I don’t remember all the details. I may have briefly suggested I get her an apartment to stay in. I don’t know.”

“Davis said the apartment was checked by security, that you had one picked out. That’s not just a suggestion. Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

He sighed harshly, like he thought this whole subject was ridiculous. “Because it’s not important. She left, either way. None of that matters now.”

“It does matter, Dad.” Emotion clogged my throat, but I kept eye contact and continued. “All this time you let me think you kicked her out of my life. That it was your decision not to let me see her.”

“It was my decision. After a while, at least. She started inviting you out there after she saw you in New York when you were fifteen, and I said no. I’m not sure what you’re upset about here.”

“But she never asked before then, did she? You never had to say no, because she never asked. And then when I was older, you only said no to me going out there because you knew what kind of stuff she’s into. You would have let her come out here if she’d asked, wouldn’t you?”

“I could hardly bar her from New York. But, no, she never asked.”

“But you let me think it was all you. You let me think it was you keeping her out of my life, when really you tried to keep her in it.”

He sighed. “So? Why would I want to tell you any of that?”

“So I’d hate her. Instead of you.” I flinched as I heard what I’d just said, but I didn’t tack anything onto it to lessen the sting.

“Do you hate me, Leah?” He asked this with a removed curiosity, as if his feelings weren’t at risk at all. Maybe because he already knew the answer.

“No.” I shook my head. “But I always kind of resented you for it. I wish I’d known the truth.”

“You were a child when all that happened. And, later, it didn’t seem right to correct your assumptions. I wasn’t concerned with whether you hated her or not. My worry was that you would blame yourself for something that had nothing to do with you.”

“I don’t blame myself,” I said truthfully. “I know she only cares about herself, and that’s all she takes into consideration when she acts. It does still hurt, I’m not going to lie. It hurts that my own mother found it that easy to walk out of my life. But, more than anything, it hurts that I’ve put the blame on you for so long instead of where it belongs.” Tears burned my eyes, and my heart felt like a fist in my chest. “I feel ashamed. Everything you’ve ever done for me was out of love, and I never even saw it.”

“Christ, Leah.” He reached out and awkwardly put his hand on my shoulder, which was practically an embrace for my dad. “Don’t act like I’m some kind of fucking saint, alright? I looked out for your best interests because I’m your father. Don’t give me a participation trophy for doing what I’m supposed to do.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, even through my tears. “I know you’re not a saint. You’re way too overprotective and suspicious. I’m just saying I’m sorry for the Mom part of it. And that you were right. The trip out to see her was awful. She was awful. And that’s all I’m going to say about it.”

“I don’t need to hear about it. I can imagine well enough. But you survived and it’s over and now you can move on. You have everything registered for school?”

I nodded, knowing he was ready to change the subject. He hated anything resembling a heart to heart talk.

“What about your dorm?”

“I have it registered, but…I don’t know. I think I might want to live off campus this year.”

“Off campus?” He repeated the words like he had no understanding of them.

“Yeah. I’m ready to spread my wings and fly a little. I don’t want to get out there after I graduate and have such a culture shock, you know?” I couldn’t believe I was even bringing this up. I’d long thought about moving into an apartment senior year, but I’d pretty much given up the thought of asking my dad after everything else that had happened.

“Leah…” He was already getting ready to shoot the idea down, I could tell.

“It’s just, I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t want constant security and supervision. I need to learn how to take care of myself. I know it’s scary, it’s scary for me, too. But it’s time.”

“You couldn’t have brought this up before now? Two weeks before you go back to school?”

“I know. I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I didn’t think there was any chance you’d let me. Especially after I messed up this summer. I’ve been thinking about it, though. I have enough in my savings to pay first and last month’s rent, plus a security deposit. And then I can get a job to help cover expenses. There are a lot of restaurants and coffee places around, some of them are even on campus, and I could…”

He interrupted me. “No. Absolutely not.” The words sounded hopelessly final, and I felt myself start to deflate. “I won’t have you working your senior year of school unless it’s some kind of internship. You don’t have time for it, and you need to focus on your classes. No. I would pay your rent. You’d pay me back, of course. Once you’re graduated and working. This would be a loan only.”

My eyes were popping out of my head. “Seriously? You’d let me get my own apartment?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, still looking pensive. “Possibly. Do you have somewhere picked out? You mentioned first and last month’s rent. How much are we looking at here?”

“There’s a building five miles from campus. A lot of students live there, and there’s a doorman and tons of security features. It’s not fancy, it’s just a one bedroom, five hundred square feet or so. Here, I’ll show you.” I brought up my phone and went to the website I had saved, and he sat back with me for the next half hour, looking at pictures, floor plans, and amenities. And, in the end, he said yes to everything: the apartment, dropping the personal security, and letting me go, if only a little bit.

 

 

I hadn’t seen Dom since he’d dropped me off back at home, but I knew he was still around. Whatever had transpired with Davis apparently hadn’t leaked over to Dom. Strangely, the butterflies in my stomach weren’t going away as the days passed; instead, they seemed to be intensifying. I relived that night with him about a hundred times, and every time, a burst of heat and yearning went through me. A week had passed with no word from him, and I wrestled with myself for days on whether I should text him or not. Did I want to? Absolutely yes. But should I? That was where I faltered, unsure. We’d never discussed this part in full. We’d agreed that anything between us should be over, but did that mean we couldn’t talk or check in with each other?

In the end I told myself I was being ridiculous. We had sex. Amazing, earth-shaking sex. His hands and mouth had been all over me. I’d lost count of how many orgasms I had, or how many times he’d been inside me. He came in me without a condom, which had been weird and messy but also extremely hot and intense. And I was worried about if I should text him or not? Before I could talk myself out of it, I picked up my phone.

Hey. You still alive?

I lay on my bed, gently chewing on my nails and trying not to bite them off, since I’d given up that habit for good two years ago. Probably only a few minutes passed before he responded, but it felt like forever.

So far. How are you?

I frowned at my screen. This already felt weird, though it was probably my fault. My tone had been too casual, like I was texting an acquaintance at school. Good, I typed. Getting ready to start my last year of school. Guess what…

There was a pause before he responded. Oh, you’re waiting on me? Ok. What am I guessing?

I smiled at that, because it was so him. Everything felt so much more familiar all of a sudden. My dad let me get an apartment off campus for senior year, I typed, along with some celebration emojis.

No shit? Are you sure he’s feeling ok?

I think so. Oh, and no more personal security!! I’m going to start moving in this week.

Awesome. Then you go back to school?

Yeah in a week and two days. How’s work?

Fine. Davis apparently kept his mouth shut.

Was he fired? I still wanted to know this for some reason.

Officially he resigned, Dom said, confirming my suspicions.

I figured. My fingers hovered for a moment before I typed, So can we hang out before I go? He didn’t immediately respond, and so I kept going. Or is that a bad idea? I don’t know. I just want to see you and say goodbye.

His reply popped up. Yeah. I’ll come get you but not at home. Can I meet you somewhere?

I can get a ride so you don’t have to drive all the way out here. I felt bad having him make the commute when it was my idea in the first place.

I’ll come get you. Where?

After thinking it over for a second, I named a restaurant that had an outdoor patio and he said he’d pick me up the next day at one. I could barely contain my excitement. My body was literally bouncing with the anticipation of seeing him. God, I had it so bad. This was such a bad idea, but I couldn’t even make myself care. I didn’t care about anything but seeing him again. I could barely sit still in the wake of our texts, so I went to Eleanor’s room to bug her. She was working on a video, no surprise, but she abandoned it to come sit on the bed next to me.

“What’s wrong with you? You look sick, or like you’re having an anxiety attack.”

“Really?” I craned my neck to look at my reflection in her vanity mirror, and found that she was right. My cheeks were flushed, my spine was too straight, and my eyes were oddly wide. I tried to make myself look normal again, but I don’t think it worked.

“What’s up? Nervous about starting school again?”

“God, no. Ready for school to be over.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

It all spilled out of me then in a rush of words I couldn’t stop. I had to talk to someone about all this or I probably would end up having an anxiety attack. I told her almost all of it, starting with California and ending with the festival. Making it clear what had happened between me and Dom.

“Ew, you had sex with him?”

I laughed because that was such an Eleanor thing to say. She was such a prude, she’d probably actually vomit if I went into detail on everything we’d done together.

“Yes,” I said. “And it was amazing. But now I’m so confused. We agreed to leave it all behind when we came back, but I’m having feelings. And I’m pretty sure he’s not.”

“Well, how do you know? Have you asked him?”

“No. I can’t ask him that.” Because I was pretty sure I knew the answer.

“Why not? You had intercourse with this guy, I think you can talk to him about how you feel.”

“Oh, my God, Eleanor. Don’t say intercourse.”

The barest hint of a smile showed at one corner of her mouth, confirming that she enjoyed my reactions when she said shit like that. “Look, I know you. You don’t just go around sleeping with guys. Not that there’s anything wrong with casual sex if that’s what a person chooses, but it’s not you. You’re the kind of person who has to fully trust someone before becoming intimate, and that usually implies feelings. Maybe he’s having them, too. You don’t know unless you talk to him about it.”

“I can’t,” I said miserably. “I know that’s not what he wants.”

“He has to feel something if he risked his job to be with you. Maybe he doesn’t want to, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. And you’ll never know unless you come clean with him. You’re seeing him tomorrow, right? I think you should tell him. Be brave. Even if he won’t take that step with you, he won’t be able to take that courage away from you. And then it’ll be his regret. Not yours.”

God, my sister was right. If I didn’t talk to him about this, I would regret it. I knew that without question. I would always look back and wish I had. And while the thought of telling him I had feelings for him scared me shitless, it also filled me with something very much like excitement. With a strong side helping of nausea. But that brought me back to my defunct list, and my summer rule for myself. Yes. I was going to do it.