Miss Understanding (The Miss Series Book 1)

by Aubrey Bondurant

  “You look like shit.”

  Leave it to my sister to be blunt when she got out of her car to give me a hug. We were curbside at the Roanoke airport on Friday night.

  Although I could’ve rented a car, Allison had insisted on picking me up. I was relieved to get the time alone with her. Because I needed someone to talk to.

  “I look like shit probably because I feel like shit.”

  “What’s going on, Liam?” she asked when we got settled in her minivan.

  I sighed deeply. “The executive committee is taking a vote next month about making me a named partner for the firm.”

  “Congrats. But why so miserable? I thought it’s what you wanted.”

  “I can’t have a relationship with Kendall and at the same time be a named partner.”

  She was silent for a full minute. “I thought things were great between you two, last we talked.”

  “They were, but it’s complicated.”

  She was shaking her head. “Then, uncomplicate it, Liam. It’s what you do for a living. Break it down and solve the problem.”

  “She’s pregnant. She found out yesterday.”

  At least this time she muttered a holy shit in response. I then proceeded to dump the rest on her, including my own less-than-stellar reaction to the news. I had to hand it to my sister; she simply listened until I was out of words.

  “Do you think she did it on purpose?”

  “No. Not at all.” I raised my voice, glaring at her. I’d thought she liked Kendall.

  “I’m not asking because I think that for a second, but I’m trying to ensure you’re not idiot enough to believe it.”

  “If anything, it’s my fault for using an old condom I found in my desk.” Probably TMI, but Allison didn’t flinch.

  “Do you love her?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Yes, but given the way I’ve already fucked things up, I’m a terrible boyfriend. I’ll make an even worse husband and father. She deserves better.”

  “I call bullshit, little brother. You don’t deserve her because you’re making damn sure you don’t. You’re thinking if you can’t be perfect and say all the right things, then you won’t be worthy. But relationships don’t work that way. You don’t get a plaque for the wall or a title by your name for being successful at it. But I’d argue that what you do get is much, much more valuable.”

  “She hates me. And I don’t blame her. For all I know, she may not even keep the baby.”

  Allison let out a long sigh. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s hurt. Although it’s absolutely her right to do what she needs to do regarding the pregnancy, it’s your right to tell her how you feel about the options. Do you want her to get an abortion?”

  “Hell no.” There wasn’t a doubt in my mind.

  “Then, unequivocally tell her that. Because I can bet she’s feeling like a burden. She may feel if she were to terminate the pregnancy or have a miscarriage you’d be relieved.”

  “It’s not how I feel. I need to call her.”

  She was shaking her head. “No more conversations via phone. I would think you’d already have learned that lesson the hard way. You need to do this face to face. And only after you figure out what you intend to do.”

  “I know what I need to do,” I said with a sigh.

  Allison heaved a big sigh. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “What happens after you get your name on the door? What’s next?”

  “What do you mean? It’s a big accomplishment to become a named partner.”

  “It is. But will you see it that way? Or will you instead try to figure out what else you need to do in order to prove yourself? Will you try to increase the size of the firm? Double the revenue? Put the firm on the map in some other way?”

  I always did more because I was never enough.

  I didn’t realize I’d murmured the words aloud until she pulled the car over into a parking lot, turning to me with tears in her eyes. “You were always enough, Liam. So was I. So was Mom. You deserve to be loved. Just as you deserve to sit back and celebrate your accomplishments instead of searching for the next thing that will—what? Somehow prove you’re enough? Will your name on the building finally accomplish that goal?”

  I shook my head, knowing deep down that it wouldn’t. Everything I’d worked for, all the accolades, all the plaques, all the money, all the possessions—none of it was filling the void I’d tried tirelessly to fill over the years. I was broken. Irrevocably unrepairable.

  “Don’t. Don’t you dare start thinking something is wrong with you.”

  “How did you know?” Fuck, my voice was gruff with emotion.

  “Because I recognize that look. And if there is something wrong with you, then there’s something wrong with me, too.”

  I took her hand, hating the tears that were tracking down her face. “There isn’t a thing wrong with you. Except, perhaps, your bowling game needs work and sometimes you’re hella nosey, but other than that, you’re perfect.”

  She laughed, as I’d expected. “And there isn’t a thing wrong with you, little brother. Except maybe when you’re a dick to the people you love instead of being honest with them about your demons.”

  I blew out a long breath. “Damn. Tough love.”

  She squeezed my hand. “The toughest because of how much I do love you. Sugarcoating things doesn’t do you any favors. And you weren’t the only one who didn’t feel enough growing up. I was also a little broken going into a relationship.”

  “How did you do it? With Warren?”

  “Went to counseling. Talked about a lot of shit. The resentment. The feeling that if I’d been a better kid, perhaps Dad wouldn’t have left. The feelings of missing him, yet wishing he’d never come back, then the guilt over being grateful he hadn’t. The fear of allowing someone in and letting myself be loved. The bigger fear that I’d be like Dad when it came to parenting the girls.”

  “You’re nothing like him.”

  She shrugged. “Not all fear is rational. But you’re right. I’m nothing like him. It helps to have an understanding husband who knows my insecurities. But the first step in working on the problem is to be open about it.”

  I couldn’t imagine telling Kendall the depth of my demons. But my sister had a point. I’d avoided relationships my entire life because they were never something I could trust I’d be good at. In avoiding love, I’d avoided leaving myself vulnerable; I’d avoided getting revealed as lacking in someone else’s eyes. Instead, I’d chosen things I could control, things I could feel safe in doing. Money, possessions, titles. They were all empty goals, yet they were safe at the same time.

  “Liam, the bottom line is I deserve to be loved. And so do you. Dad didn’t leave because we weren’t good enough kids. It wasn’t because Mom wasn’t a good enough wife. It was because of his alcoholism.”

  “What if Kendall deserves more?”

  My sister didn’t mince words. “If you won’t be the man who gives her more, then you’re right. She does deserve better. But if you’re letting her go because you’re scared, then you’ll regret it.”

  She was right. I already did.

  My sister’s words stayed with me the next morning when I met her and my mother at the attorney’s office in Blacksburg. I had no idea why my father had a will, nor did I know what to expect, but it never occurred to me they’d play a video. I was so surprised I could only sit rooted to the spot, even when my sister grasped my hand.

  It was him. The first time I’d seen him alive since I’d been a boy. Wearing a long-sleeved shirt and tie, he was seated in a chair in what appeared to be a small conference room in this building. He was fidgeting. “Is this thing on?” he asked the camera.

  My mother started weeping at the sound of his voice.

  I held my breath, muscles tensed.

  Then he started talking.

  “Um, I’m recording this in the event something happens to me. I haven’t taken the best c
are of myself over the years, so the way that I see it, it’s a miracle I’ve lasted this long. Anyhow, my lawyer advised I could just write out this will, but in case I don’t have the balls—I mean courage, sorry—to face you all again, I wanted for you to at least see my face one last time and know I mean what I have to say with all my heart. First, I’m sorry. Sorry I let the bottle get the best of me. I was weak and driven by the next drop instead of focused on what mattered most. My family. I told myself if I can get one year sober, I’ll come home. I’m twenty days away.” He took a deep breath, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “Damn if I don’t have regrets. I’d run out of video if I listed them all. But believe there wasn’t a day I didn’t think of the three of you. Not a day I didn’t love you. Not a day I didn’t wish I could’ve been the husband, and father you deserved.”

  He faltered for a moment, taking a breath.

  My mother and sister were doing the same.

  I was simply numb.

  “I don’t have much to leave you. But every penny I’d like to see go to my grandchildren. Not sure I’ll get a chance to meet them, but since I screwed up with this generation, maybe the next one will remember me as more than a drunk and an abuser. At least it’s my hope. It’s what keeps me moving forward each day to add another sober one to the count. I love you all. I’m sure it’s not obvious by my actions, but know I never stopped. I only hope I’ll get a second chance to show you that. To begin to make up for all the bad times. All right. That’s it. Hopefully, it’ll be years before you have to see this.”

  It was the end of the video. I simply sat there, my arms around my mother and sister, with my emotions raw and reeling. It had been easier to put the man out of my mind permanently as a drunk abuser with no chance at redemption. Now, seeing him with clear eyes, hopefulness in his voice and regret in his words, I was faced with the very real possibility I’d screwed up by not accepting his calls.

  After a short meeting with the attorney, I drove to the cemetery. I hadn’t planned on coming here, yet here I stood in the cold. Walking over to the grave, a few down from where my grandparents were buried, I stopped at the headstone for my father.

  It turned out my dad had a hundred-thousand-dollar life insurance policy he’d taken out many years ago. We’d all agreed it would go toward Allison’s kids’ college fund. Someday they would be able to say their grandpa had helped them with school. That he’d been a good man in the end. I thought it was the fresh start he’d hoped for.

  Looking up at the clear, dark sky, I was forced to face a couple hard truths about my childhood. Although I was glad my father hadn’t come back while we’d been growing up, I had never appreciated that had been a conscious choice on his part, that he’d decided not to return until he could get sober. And secondly, holding on to hate and resentment was helping no one, least of all me.

  So I said the words out loud from my heart. “Thank you for leaving. You staying away was the best thing you could’ve done for us kids and for her. I’m glad in the end you changed. That you got sober.” I could finally start to believe it was the disease that had made him abandon us and not anything we’d done wrong as kids. I could believe my future wasn’t tied to a painful past.

  “I’m sorry I never took the time to give you a second chance. But know you made Mom happy in the end. And I forgive you.”

  I swallowed hard and walked away with a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years.

  Now I was anxious to get back to California. The problem was how to approach Kendall. Truth be told, my sister had been right. I’d never entertained the idea of a relationship or family because I’d been petrified I couldn’t be enough for them. Instead, I’d focused on a career trajectory, something I could control and to which I would never feel vulnerable. A named partnership might have been something I’d worked for my entire life, but I realized the prize would be empty if I sacrificed Kendall and the baby for it.

  Now I just had to plan how to win her back.

  Chapter Fifty

  Kendall

  Trying to get ready for my Friday night at the club proved to be impossible since I kept crying my makeup off. I still kicked myself for telling Liam I was pregnant over the phone. It had been stupid. And now I was paying the price for it by playing his words over and over in my head. I’d always known his career was his priority, so then, why was I feeling so hurt to have that confirmed?

  Simple. Because I was a stupid girl who might have thought for a moment he reciprocated my feelings.

  Since his call at the office, he’d given me the space I’d asked for by not calling or texting again. I wasn’t sure if I was more relieved or disappointed. Be careful what you ask for I guess.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to keep myself from sobbing again. I’d told him I wasn’t sure what I’d do about the baby, but in truth, there was no doubt. I was absolutely keeping it.

  A knock on the bathroom door had me taking in a shaky breath.

  “Hey, Kendall. You okay?” Chloe asked.

  I came out the door and just hugged her. She didn’t disappoint, simply letting me cry it out without a word. Finally, when there was nothing left, she led me to the couch.

  “Can you talk about it?”

  “Yeah. I think so.” After dumping everything on her over the next ten minutes, I waited for her response.

  “That’s a lot. What will you do?”

  “Keeping it.” I wanted to get that out of the way first of all. “Second, I’m transferring to another position in Century City. It would be nice to quit altogether, but I need medical insurance. And I wouldn’t get maternity leave if I went and started a new job.” It was tempting to quit school and work evenings at the club, but I couldn’t. I only had another four months until I got my degree. I was too close. But I had to transfer away from Liam as soon as possible.

  I’d also made another decision. I’d sent an email to Stephen Walsh asking about a job opportunity. I wasn’t sure he’d hire a pregnant woman, or if there may be something for after I had the baby, but I hoped fate had put him in my life for a reason.

  “Will you talk to Liam on Sunday night?”

  “Probably. It’s better than first seeing him Monday in the office and it being horrible. I’m hoping I can get transferred out of there in the next week.”

  “What will you say to him?”

  “I’ll tell him I don’t need help. I’ll raise this baby on my own. And he can go on to be named partner without ever seeing either of us again.” I was determined to avoid a relationship where neither of us would be wanted.

  “He still needs to help you financially.”

  He’d be on the hook for child support, but I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to think about it yet. “Pride tells me I don’t want it. Practicality tells me I’ll probably need it.”

  “What about telling your family?”

  They’d be disappointed. And I’d have to come clean about supplementing my grandmother’s care. I wouldn’t be able to work behind the bar once I was showing, but perhaps the club could find me a different position which would still allow me to earn extra cash to keep her where she was. “I will tell them eventually. Maybe after the first trimester.”

  “This is horrible timing with me taking this job and moving to Dubai on Sunday. I wish I was staying.”

  It wasn’t as though her brother had left her much of a choice. She was hoping that working overseas would get her family out of the debt he’d put them in. “I know you do. But we each have to do what’s best for us. We’ll keep in touch. And I’ll be okay.”

  At least I hoped so.

  I went through Friday night mostly numb, wondering what it would be like to see Liam come Sunday night. I’d felt strong on the phone when I couldn’t see his face. In person would be different.

  I’d thought I’d been doing a good job of faking my way through things, but by Saturday, Jose took me off guard by taking me to a private room before our shift began. “What’s going on, sweetheart? I’m wor
ried about you. Especially with your girl leaving tomorrow. You okay?”

  I shook my head before embarrassingly bursting into tears and told him everything.

  At least Jose had been a nice shoulder to cry on. He’d even offered to talk to the manager about other possible positions I could do within the club. As much as I hoped Stephen Walsh might come through with something, he’d yet to reply to my email. Perhaps I could be a hostess or do the books on the side on the weekends.

  Finally, after a long shift and then going to a diner for a goodbye breakfast for Chloe, I arrived home, more tired than usual. I’d read online that exhaustion could be expected, especially in the first trimester. Unfortunately, I could hardly chug a Red Bull to get my energy back up.

  After showering, I plugged in my phone and was shocked to see a text message from Liam. Was he already home? I didn’t think so. He wasn’t due to fly back until this afternoon. But the text had come in over an hour ago while I’d been finishing up at the diner.

  “Are you home from work?”

  I was tempted to answer but instead simply went to bed. I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t deal with him yet. I just wasn’t in the right head space at the moment.

  By the time I woke up four hours later, I had missed two calls from him, but he’d left no voicemail.

  Weird. However, I had no time to think about him because I had to take my best friend to the airport. There were a lot of tears as Chloe and I said goodbye, and we promised to FaceTime. Once home, I simply fell into bed again, intent on shutting out the world temporarily and pretending that everything was fine.

  The sound of pounding woke me up. Rolling from the bed, I checked the time. Four o’clock in the afternoon. Was it Liam? I went to check the peephole and sighed. Guess it was time to get this over with.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Liam

  The need to be with Kendall was so overwhelming I couldn’t wait until Sunday to fly home. Instead, I headed out Saturday afternoon, and drove straight from the airport to the club with the hope of driving her home tonight. That was, if she’d let me. If she’d consider giving me a second chance.