I shook my head, realizing that making them proud was something I had given up on long ago. It’d been sealed and finalized during the week we spent in Todos Santos, but had been going on even before that.

“I need to stop by our building to grab my medicine and vest.” I rummaged through my bag to make sure my inhaler was there.

“No need.” He placed a hand over mine. “Got everything packed for you, baby. Pills, inhalers, nebulizer, vest. Other than packing a new set of lungs, you have everything you need here. Working on the latter, but the black market is slow these days.”

I looked up and grinned. “You are not going to like what I’m about to say,” I told him, and he frowned in a way that was completely extravagant to show me that he was already irritated.

“I don’t think you can eat me in here. You’re way too tall to pull this off. Even in this big limo.”

“I find challenges refreshing. They keep me young.” He loosened his tie and pulled the fabric of his dress pants over his knees, preparing to dive down. I stopped him with a hand on his lightly stubbled cheek.

“I’m also wearing really tight jeans.”

“I’ve been known to rip apart things that stood between me and your pussy, and I’ll be damned if twenty-dollar ASOS denim are going to deprive me of your pussy, love.”

Love. We still hadn’t said those words to one another, and not because we hadn’t felt them. We were both new to this feeling. To this life.

I pressed my forefinger to his lips and leaned into his face. “But I can go down on you.”

His eyes followed me dutifully as I sank down below him, my face leveled with his groin. If I was being honest, this part of our relationship was one of my favorite things about us. The deprived lust that sizzled between us. Like nothing was ever enough. Like doing dirty things in public places was a necessity, rather than something we needed to do to spice things up. Because with Dean Cole, you didn’t need any extra spices. He was already hot as hell.

I reached for his dress pants and took him out. His cock was half-mast, just like his smirk as he brushed some of my wild hair away from my face.

“Sometimes, when I think about how we could have been together all those years if you weren’t so fucking stubborn, I want to shoot you in the eye with my super sperm. You know that?”

I licked my lips, still holding his junk, feeling it swelling between my fingers as more blood rushed to it. “That’s the most disgusting compliment I’ve ever received,” I admitted.

“Maybe it’s because you didn’t strip it down to the meaning of its naked bones. You were always the one, Rosie. Before you even opened your goddamn mouth, I knew that I had to have you. And it took me a long time, but now that I own you—and let there be no mistakes, you’re mine, baby—nothing will come between us, get it?”

Best pep talk to a woman facing a huge one-eyed monster that was staring at her, waiting to be sucked. I leaned forward and licked the crown of his cock, screwing my tongue into the little slit before taking him all in. He jerked his hips forward and his head back, hissing through his pearly white teeth. “Holy fuck, Rosie.”

“Holy fuck and Rosie are synonyms. Save words. Only use one.” I served him the same sass he gave me just a couple months ago, and he laughed, a tortured kind of laugh from a brooding millionaire who had his dick inside the mouth of a sick, poor girl on their way to the airport.

He didn’t hold my hair and guide me like he usually did. Instead, Dean watched in a mixture of awe and fascination as I worked my magic on him, sucking him off with tender lips, giving him the love and devotion he deserved for being the best boyfriend a girl could have. Because he was. Everything I didn’t even know I could have.

I’m worthy.

I’m a catch.

And I’m about to show the world what a handsome, successful, funny, and smart man I’ve bagged.

After ten minutes of nonstop TLC to Dean’s cock, I heard him moan. “Shit, baby, I’m about to come.”

I massaged his thighs, giving him silent permission to do so in my mouth, and he sucked in a breath before wrapping his fingers around his shaft and milking his cum into my mouth. After he was done, I righted my spine and plopped on his lap. He kissed me on the lips, then nuzzled into my chest.

“That blowjob needs to go into the history books, Baby LeBlanc.”

“God, I’m glad you’re not the man in charge of our national education system.”

By the time we landed in San Diego and got to Todos Santos, it was the middle of the night between Friday and Saturday.

We went straight to bed and crashed in my room, burrowing into each other’s warmth. I slept with a smile on my face, knowing that I was about to see my sister. Emilia was showing—she sent me weekly pictures—and I couldn’t wait to stroke that Buddha belly and coo at it like the crazy aunt that I was.

True, Mama and Daddy were going to be a struggle, but all in all, my joy for my sister overrode the occasional bumping heads with my parents.

In the morning, I wandered out to the hallway, still in my PJs. Last night the housekeeper, Anna, opened the door for us, so I wasn’t even sure if my family was expecting me. I found out the answer to that question when I walked into the kitchen and saw Mama and Daddy reading newspapers at the table, drinking their coffee.

Mama lifted her head from her magazine. Daddy didn’t. Neither one of them looked surprised to see me.

Mama wanted to rush and squeeze me to her chest, her body leaping forward, but Daddy put his hand on the table in a silent gesture that advised against it. He reminded her that I had to be punished for my disobedience.

“Sit, Rose,” she said instead, her voice sad. Every cell in my brain begged me to protest, but this was not how I wanted our visit to go down. I grabbed a chair at the far end of the table and laced my fingers together. My parents and I had been distant but civil over the past three months. We texted a lot. Mostly health-related stuff and quick updates about my life. They sometimes called to remind me to wish a relative a happy birthday or to pick up Millie’s mail from our old apartment or ask when I was going to come back, but that was the extent of it.

“I think we should talk—” I started, but Mama cut me off.

“Kathy from my knitting club saw you on that Facebook website the other day. Called and talked my ear off, she did. Said she had some interesting news to share. Why, Rose LeBlanc, out of all the men in Manhattan—out of all the men in the world—you have your eye set on the one your sister had dated!”

“Good morning.” Said sister breezed into the kitchen, flipping her lavender hair off of her shoulder. “I smelled food so I came to eat it all.” Millie chuckled, but everyone else in the kitchen looked ready to roll on the floor in a punch-fight.

“Not in the mood for humor? Well, I guess I’ll join the funeral.” Millie plucked a carton of coconut water from the fridge and took big gulps, rubbing her belly.

It’d been ten minutes since I woke up, and already I had my dose of drama for the whole weekend. Millie wore a long dress the color of honey with no shape and fringes at the bottom, and her long hair danced around her shoulders. She looked like a fairy. A very pregnant one at that. Her belly was the size of a watermelon. How many babies did she have in there? She kept me posted, so I knew it was just the one. At five months she looked like the bun in her oven was baking pretty nicely.

I jumped from my chair, emptying my arsenal of affection, kisses, and hugs on the one person in my family who actually accepted them. Millie pulled away, smoothed my hair, and crinkled her nose. “Did I arrive five minutes too late?”

“Thirty seconds, but the bomb has already dropped.” I sighed. My sister gave me that look, a mixture of an eye roll and a knowing smile, reminding me that it was the same old story, different day.

“Mama, Daddy.” Millie motioned for me to get back to my seat, grabbing her own chair and plopping down. “You need to hear us out. I’m done seeing Rosie get hurt.”

“Oh?” Mama folded her arms. Daddy still pretended to be reading from the newspaper, but his eyes weren’t moving. It made me want to throw something at him. Scream. Yell at him that he had no right to be mad. That I was the one who had felt abandoned and discarded. That for someone who wanted me around all the time, he had a funny way of showing it. He mourned a daughter who hadn’t even died yet, but he wouldn’t let her love him.

“Your mama doesn’t need time. She needs a healthy daughter.”

I wondered what kind of daughter he referred to. One who wouldn’t follow her dreams, perhaps? One who would bow down and do whatever it was he wanted her to do with her precious time left in this world? Not that I couldn’t see where my family was coming from. It was heartbreaking, I’m sure, to watch your sick kid making a life somewhere else. But that was what my parents hadn’t realized.

New York wasn’t about New York. It was about independence.

It was about doing what I wanted to do, experiencing life out of the bubble my parents had created for me. Most of all, it was about finding out who I was without people dictating it for me.

“Rosie’s boyfriend, Dean Cole, called Baron yesterday, telling him they wanted to come here and announce their relationship.” Millie took my hand and smiled, that type of smile that lit up the room and the one next to it. “It’s Thanksgiving, and we have so much to be thankful for. I have a baby coming soon, and Rosie is happy and doing so well health-wise. We wanted to celebrate together. I’m sure you remember Dean and I used to date in high school. I’m also certain you remember how it ended. Briefly. Tragically. But, as you may recall, not heartbreakingly.”

Millie rubbed circles on my back, trying to soothe my nerves away. I was legit too nervous to breathe.

“I don’t want to dwell on the past, but I do find it important to say one thing to make sure our future is brighter: Baron and I were always meant to be together. Everyone knew that. Everyone…but us. As for Dean and Rosie?” She sighed, shaking her head, the sorrow seeping from her expression. Millie knew how much it hurt me, us, and wished she could take it back. “Mama, Daddy, they were crazy for one another from day one. I hadn’t noticed, because I was too busy being a selfish teenager, but there is no way I am hurt or annoyed by their relationship. Just look at her.” She flipped my hair and grinned. “She is glowing. And when she is happy, we should all be happy. Do I look dejected in any way?” She cradled her tummy and laughed, and I laughed with her, not because I was feeling relieved or optimistic, but because my sister was the definition of health, and even if I wasn’t, I liked that what I would leave behind was safe and whole.