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My gaze slowly crawls from his warm hand on my bare arm to the glimmer in his examining stare.
His eyes that watch me evenly only squint a fraction, as if he’s only just understood what I said. I’m so entranced by them that I nearly miss the slight upturn at the ends of his mouth.
That lick of amusement makes me itch to yank my arm away.
“You’re fascinating,” he says, and I roll my eyes, stepping out of his hold.
“I’m bored, professor. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Better to put space between us, I try to tell myself as I walk off, determined to not look like I’m running. It’s safe to assume a man like that plays with young women regularly and I refuse to be a plaything of his.
No fucking thank you.
My sister always jokes about how cold I am. How I’d never fall in love because I’m too hard on men and how I expect too much from the dim-witted creatures.
But if she could feel the way my heart hammers in my chest, she’d know I’m just as susceptible to their flimsy charm as any other woman.
I rush the rest of the way out of the building, determined to find some equilibrium. As I step outside, I take a deep breath, loving the way the chaos inside of me is drowned out by the vastness of the skyscrapers and people who don’t bother to say “excuse me” when they bump into me.
I wish for nothing more than the space to forget him, like myyiayiainferred I was capable of. Maybe then I’d forget the way my breath hitches at his proximity. Or the way his stare makes me feel like he somehow found a way to run his hands down my body, figuring out each dips and curves to fit into.
CHAPTER NINE
I WANT MY FAMILY
PRESENT
Saturday nights in the Patterson/Milas home used to mean date night with the girls. They’d spend all week trying to decide what activity we’d do and the four of us would go to a movie or the aquarium or whatever they ended up deciding.
Saturday nights are now ping-ponged between Peter and I and it’s Peter’s turn.
So, I sit home alone, with a bottle of wine, trying to hash out some design plans for clients.
Certainly not the life I’d pictured at our intimate wedding ceremony. Not the life myyiayiahad pictured as she wiped her tears when I said, “I do.”
Because Idon’tanymore.
I hear the front door unlock and I smile when Jilly comes bounding inside, her mouth blue.
“Someone had a slushie,” I sing out just as she jumps into my arms.
“I finished the whole thing,” she answers, triumphantly, a large grin showcasing the space where one of her front teethstill hadn’t grown in. I take her golden braids in each hand before pressing my palms to her cheeks.
She is all the things I love; she’s all the things I never thought I’d lose.
“Go ahead and get in the bath. I’ll be up there in a few.” I press a kiss to her nose, and she skips away, already to the stairs by the time her older sister makes it inside.
“How was the movie?” Penelope shrugs and I’m surprised when she pulls up the stool next to me and sits on it. “Everything okay?”
Peter stands just outside the kitchen, his arms crossed as he leans against the doorway. But I’m not focused on him as I stare down at my ever-emotional Penny.
I wasn’t thinking clearly when I named her after my mother. All I saw was her dark hair and I felt this momentary strength that we could break cycles, the two of us. At the time, I didn’t know healing is nonlinear and some days I’m not strong enough to stare that decision in its eyes.
“Can we all go together next Saturday?” she asks, and I glance up at Peter, unsure of what transpired tonight.
“Uh…” He shrugs, his eyes wide with that innocence that makes me wonder how he ended up with someone like me. “Yeah, sure.”
“I think you would’ve thought the movie was dumb too,” she reasons as she hops off the stool and I smile after her.
