Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“What do you mean by too far?”
“I mean . . . I don’t want either of us trying to fall for each other or whatever.” I waved my hand, as if this topic wasn’t actually weighing heavily on me.
It was. A whole lot.
Maybe because no matter how much I tried to deny it, deep, deep, deep, deep down, I did want to fall for someone again.
I was just scared.
“Tavia, I’ve told you a million times that every man is not like shitty Luther. That fucker never deserved you,” Davina said in a lower voice. “It’s okay to want more with someone else.”
I shook my head.
“He was one horrible, rotten egg,” she went on. “So what if things get a little serious with Javier? Would that be such a bad thing?”
“That’s an interesting question, coming from a woman who recently had a hard time letting another man in.”
“Not the point,” my sister shot back, fighting a smile. “I’m just saying, if he wants you and you want him . . . why not?”
“Because at the end of the day, I’m the woman he hired to take care of his child. He can get tired of me, meet someone else, and then fire me. It’d be like I never even existed to him.”
“Those are your insecurities and fears talking. Besides, with an attitude like his, I doubt he’ll be meeting anyone else anytime soon.”
I couldn’t help my smirk. “What about his wife?” I asked. “I can’t compete with the mother of his child. He could compare me to her. Expect me to be like her . . .”
“Stop that. No one’s asking you to compete with her or to be anything like her.” She scratched above her brow with the tip of her French-tipped nail. “I mean, are there times when I compare Deke to Lew? Yes. But my therapist told me that was natural and that I shouldn’t feel guilty about it. And Javier could think of comparisons in his head, but as long as he doesn’t try and change you or bring things she did into your conversations to intentionally make you feel ashamed, it shouldn’t matter.”
Hmm. I guessed she had a point.
“Deke always used to say he never thought he’d live long enough to see the day Javier moved on,” said Davina. “That says something. To me, it says Javier trusts you and that he must really like you. He may not know what he wants from this whole thing with you right now, but from what I’m hearing, he does like you. Hell, he crashed your date! Literally cut off the chance for another man to have you. If that doesn’t scream it, I don’t know what will, girl.”
I blinked at her a few times before lowering my eyes to the thin cake slices on my plate. “So . . . what do you think I should do?”
“I think you should just let things happen. Let life do its thing.” She popped another piece of cake into her mouth. “And I tell you this from experience, sis: trying to run from something that brings you joy, even if you feel like you don’t deserve it, won’t save you. It’ll ruin you and make your life miserable.”
And yet . . . I was still terrified of that, because joy wasn’t an emotion that walked alone. Sorrow lingered right behind it, ready to storm in and sweep you away when the slightest crack formed.
Twenty-Five
Javier
“Headphones? Check. Water cup? Yes. Barbie with pink hair? Check. Oh, shoot!” Octavia cursed under her breath as she shuffled through Aleesa’s overnight bag. “No, come on.”
“What is it?” I asked as her frown became more evident and her hand went deeper into the bag.
“I forgot her bedtime books.”
“It should be fine. She will be okay for two nights without her books, Octavia,” I said.
“She begged for those books, Javier. Once she realizes I don’t have them, she’ll flip.” She pulled away from the bag and folded her arms. “You know she will too.”
I looked from Octavia to Aleesa, who was currently occupied with a flavored-water juice box and Cheez-Its in a snack pouch. Her iPad was already set up on the back of one of the private plane seats, and her seat belt was clicked into place. She was all ready for takeoff and perfectly content now.
But Octavia was right. Once bedtime rolled around, she’d have an episode when she realized her favorite books weren’t there.
Aleesa was not a fan of sleeping in new places. She loved our home and especially her bedroom. Most times when we traveled, she had a hard time adjusting to new settings, so those little comforts like bedtime books and Barbies mattered.
“You are right.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “We will make time to stop by a bookstore before her bedtime.” I craned my neck to look out the door that revealed the tarmac. “Where the hell is my sister?”