She continued to look at me, like she hoped I would elaborate. “Is it the boosters for the rover?”
I knew she wasn’t knowledgeable about the specifics of my work, but I thought it was nice that she tried to understand what I was working on. Any other woman I’d been with only cared about my money, not my work. “No. I’m going out with Ryan and some of his groomsmen on Friday night.”
“Like a bachelor party?”
“No. Just a get-together. Ryan isn’t really a strip club kind of guy.”
“That’s sweet.” She sliced into her pancakes with her fork and took a bite. “And why is this stressing you out?”
I still didn’t want to tell her what happened ten years ago. I had no idea why. She wouldn’t think less of me, and I felt comfortable telling her anything. But I guess I just didn’t want to relive it as I talked about it. “One of his groomsmen is someone I don’t care to see.”
She nodded slowly. “What happened?”
I stared down at my food and tried not to watch the replay in my head. “We used to be friends. We aren’t anymore. That’s all.”
Emerson must have picked up on my mood because she didn’t ask any more questions. She continued to eat and let the tension fade away.
For the first time in ten years, I was really happy, and I didn’t want my past to ruin that. I wanted to live in the moment with her, to appreciate every single second of what I’d found in her. “I’m sorry. I have a bad habit of letting things get to me.”
“You’re fine, Derek. I’m here if you want to talk. I’m just relieved that it has nothing to do with us.”
Now I felt bad for letting her think that. “No. You’re the best thing in my life, baby.”
She looked up at my comment, her eyes filling with emotion like that meant the world to her. “I was afraid I came on a little strong with some of the things I said. I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“The things you said?” I grabbed my mug and held it by the handle.
“You know…wanting to be with you forever and stuff like that. I know guys don’t like to hear that too quickly, and I kinda just puked word vomit on you of all my emotions.”
“Why would I not want to hear how much you love me and how you never want to lose me? Why would I not want to hear that you want to be with me forever? That I’m the best thing that ever happened to you? It’s flattering, baby.”
Her eyes softened and she just stared at me, absolutely still, like she couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth.
In my last relationship, she didn’t appreciate me. She pissed me away like I meant nothing to her. When I asked her to marry me, I really loved her with my whole heart, and she said yes. But it wasn’t genuine. If it were, she wouldn’t have fucked my best friend. Not only did she not care about me on a romantic level, but she didn’t care about me as a friend either…to destroy my relationship with my best friend. It was nice to be with a woman who showed me how much she cared about me every single day, who told me how much she cared about me, who let the tears fall from her eyes because the love she had for me was so paramount. “It doesn’t bother me. I don’t play games, and neither do you. I like that. I like feeling appreciated. I like knowing the woman I’ve given my heart to values me, that she would never gamble my love, that she’s absolutely committed and just the thought of losing me makes her lose her mind.”
She continued to stare at me, speechless.
“And I hope that I make you feel just as valued and appreciated, that I would never gamble what we have, that this relationship is my priority, and I would do everything and anything to keep it.”
Lizzie and I worked together every Tuesday and Thursday, and she continued to impress me with her ability. Now that she believed in herself, she was getting better and better. When we moved on to a new section, no matter how challenging it was, she was ready for it. There was no doubt in her mind she could grasp it.
It was nice to see.
When she came over on Thursday, she was a bit distracted.
In all fairness, I was distracted too, thinking about what I had to do tomorrow.
Her eyes were down most of the time, she didn’t pay attention to what I said, and her mind seemed to be elsewhere.
I waited for her to snap out of it on her, but she never did. “Lizzie?”
She looked at me, still subdued.
“Is there something bothering you?”
She turned back to her notebook and made a few marks on the paper with her pencil, little doodles of dots and scribbles.
I asked my question and let the silence pass, respecting the pause because I needed to take longer pauses than anyone else. Sometimes it took time for me to gather my thoughts, to understand how I felt about something before I commented.
She put down her pencil then turned to me. “You love my mom?”
I stilled at the question, my eyes glued to hers and unblinking, shocked that she’d asked me that. A million different scenarios of a response ran through my head of what my answer should be, but I didn’t know if any of them were the right choice.
She was quiet as she waited for my reply, holding her ground and silently demanding an answer.
Why would she ask that? It was a very specific question, like she knew something. She heard Emerson talk to her mom about me, looked through her mother’s phone and found text messages, something like that.
“Derek?”
If she had heard something, why would she confront me instead of her mother? “Why do you ask, Lizzie?”
“Does it matter?” she asked. “Just answer the question.” Her fiery attitude started to light up, the version of her that I’d seen with her mother. She didn’t take any nonsense, was blunt, and demanded what she deserved.
I sighed as I looked down at the table, knowing I had to be honest. We’d intended to tell her anyway, and she clearly knew something, so I threw caution to the wind and did it. I turned back to her. “Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“I love her very much.” I inhaled a deep breath once the truth left my lips, when it was out into the open for her daughter to hear.
Lizzie continued to stare at me, her fire slowly fading away.
I couldn’t tell how she felt about it.
“Now, answer my question.”
She rested her elbow on the table and cupped her chin with her hand. “I grabbed your book off the shelf to read it, and I saw what you wrote to her.”
I realized my mistake in not telling Emerson that Lizzie wanted to read my book. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. That was my fault for not thinking ahead when I wrote that to her, knowing she wasn’t the only person living in that apartment. “Why are you confronting me instead of your mother?”
“Because you’re the one who wrote it.”
I gave a slight nod in understanding. “I meant what I said, Lizzie. She’s…the love of my life.” I couldn’t believe I was saying this to a twelve-year-old, but I’d become more comfortable with her since we’d established our own relationship over the last month. She was kind of like a friend, in a way.
Lizzie seemed to appreciate that I spoke to her like an adult rather than a child, and she rose to the occasion, being mature about the situation. “So, when I asked if you liked my mom…you lied?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I did.”
“Why?”
“Your mother wasn’t ready to tell you about us.”
“Us?” she asked. “As in…you’re together?”
I felt like I’d crossed the line by having this conversation with her, but it was happening, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Emerson wouldn’t be back for thirty minutes, and I couldn’t just end the conversation and have us sit in silence. “Yes.”
“How long?”
“Um…a couple months. But I felt this way about her for a while before that.”
She dropped her hand then started to play with her nails. “So…that’s why you offered to tu
tor me?”
Now this was getting really heavy, and I didn’t want to say anything to chase her away. “Yes. I don’t have a lot of experience with kids, and I thought teaching you would be a great way for us to have our own relationship. I’ve considered it to be successful because we seem to get along pretty well.”
She dropped her gaze, like she didn’t agree.
My heart started to race because I could see the pain on her face. I was scared, scared that I’d lost her trust. “I didn’t mean to deceive you—”
“Did you mean anything you said about me? Or were you just trying to get me to like you?” She turned back to me, her eyes filled with heartbreak.
My eyes started to mirror hers because I could feel her pain, could absorb it the way I did with Emerson, because…I really cared. “Lizzie, you’ve been getting A’s on everything you’ve been doing in class. You went from being a C- student to an A, and you’re the one taking those quizzes and doing those worksheets, not me. Yes, I meant what I said. And your success is proof of that, if you don’t believe me.”
The unease slowly left her face, the logic making her realize everything between us was real. She took a breath like the weight left her shoulders, like her belief in herself returned because my praise was genuine.
“Lizzie, you’re very bright, and I’ve really enjoyed teaching you. You remind me a lot of myself, actually. I’ve always learned things differently from my peers. My dad used to help me, and it always made a lot more sense coming from him because he’s like me.”
“Yeah?” she whispered. “So, I can be like you someday?”
“Absolutely.”
Her confidence returned, along with a faint smile. “I’ve been doing better in my other classes too because I’m really trying. I don’t know what I want to do yet, but now I definitely want to go to college.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
“Maybe I could go to Harvard like you.”
“Yes. You can make that happen if you want.”
She smiled then turned back to her notebook and stared at the doodles for a while.
I didn’t know what to say now, but at least Lizzie and I were okay.
After a while, she turned back to me. “Mom has never had a boyfriend before.”
I stared at her.
“I have some friends at school who have stepdads and stuff, and they don’t really like them.”
I started to get uneasy again.
“But I like you. It makes me happy to know that you love my mom, that you make her happy. She’s been different for a while, and now I understand why. She smiles more, she’s not as tired after work, and when we go do stuff on the weekends, she’s just…more upbeat. Don’t tell her I said this, but…she’s a good mom. I know I tease her a lot, but she’s always been there for me, and she works really hard to give me a good life. My friends at school tell me horror stories about their parents, and I can’t relate at all because Mom isn’t like that.”
I wished Emerson could hear all of this herself.
“Anyway, my mom is great, and she deserves a great guy. So, keep making her happy.”
I’d just earned her blessing, and it was a weight off my shoulders. “Thank you, Lizzie. You’re very mature and selfless…you’re a lot like your mom.”
She shrugged in response.
I never anticipated this to go so well, for Lizzie to accept me so easily.
“Can we keep this between us?” She turned back to me.
“You don’t want to tell her?”
“I will. I’ll just wait until she talks to me about it.”
“Why don’t we tell her together when she comes to pick you up?”
She shrugged. “I guess we can do that.”
“Good. Because I don’t think I can hide this from her.”
“Alright.” She grabbed her pencil again. “You know, I’ve never felt weird not having a dad. I’ve always had Grandpa, and I just feel like I’ve always had enough.”
“I’m not trying to be your father, Lizzie.”
“Then what are you trying to be?”
I tried to find a good answer. “Your friend. Can we be friends?”
She smiled. “I thought we already were.”
I smiled back, feeling my heart increase three sizes the way it did with Emerson. “Yeah…we are.”
Emerson knocked before she walked inside. “Hey.”
Lizzie’s back was to her, and she grinned.
Emerson walked to the table, acting like everything was normal, and placed her hand on the back of Lizzie’s chair. “How’d it go?”
I didn’t say anything, letting Lizzie handle this.
Emerson glanced back and forth between us, picking up on the silence. Then she looked at her daughter, who kept grinning, then gave a light chuckle. “What?”
Lizzie continued to laugh.
Emerson grew more confused. “What are you laughing about?”
“I’m laughing because you’re a terrible actress.” Lizzie grabbed her things and started to put them away.
Emerson looked to me for guidance.
All I could do was give her a shrug and watch her struggle.
Lizzie stood up and grabbed her backpack off the table. “Mom and Derek sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…” She grinned then walked off.
Emerson’s face went ghostly pale, and she couldn’t hide the shock that exploded into her features.
Lizzie laughed at her mother’s shocked expression. “Mom’s got a boyfriend…” She headed to the front door. “I’ll wait in the hall so the two of you can make out or whatever you do.” She shut the door behind her.
Emerson quickly turned back to me. “What…what the hell happened?”
I grinned and rose to my feet so I could look at her. “She read my book…and saw what I wrote to you.”
Emerson closed her eyes as the humiliation swept over her face. “Oh. My. God.”
“She asked me about it, and I told her the truth.”
She opened my eyes and looked at me. “Which is?”
“That I love you.” My biggest fear in this relationship had been Lizzie’s feelings toward me, and now that those fears were gone, I felt lighter than air. The idea of being a stepfather sounded like a nightmare, but with Lizzie, it didn’t seem that bad. “That we’ve been together for a while.”
“And she…was fine with it?”
“At first, she was upset because she thought I was giving her false praise to get her to like me, but when she understood I’ve always been genuine, she felt good about it. Then she told me that she’s happy about it, that I make you happy, and she likes me.”
Both of her hands moved over her chest like that meant the world to her, like there was nothing that made her happier. “Really?”
I nodded. “She said some other things I’m not allowed to share.”
“Like what?”
I shrugged. “I wish I could say, but I can’t. But she wants you to be happy.”
Her eyes softened in a whole new way.
“She loves you—a lot.”
“God…she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” Her eyes watered, not because we could be together, but because she loved her daughter so much and her opinion meant the world to her.
My arm moved around her, and I held her close, resting my chin on her head, rubbing her back. I held her for a while, letting her work through the emotion her daughter had sprung on her without warning.
Lizzie came back. “Mom, I’m staaaaarving. Can you make out with your boyfriend later?”
Emerson pulled away and gave her a playful look. “I was gonna take you to get something to eat, but forget it now.”
Lizzie’s taunts stopped, and she sighed. “Fine, I’ll stop.” She walked back out again.
“Food is the best way I can get her to behave sometimes.” She pulled away from me and smiled, looking happier than she’d ever been.
“Can I join you?”
Now she l
ooked even happier. “Yeah, that would be nice.”
“I’ll drive.”
“Uh, Lizzie isn’t sitting in my lap.”
I grinned as I grabbed my keys and wallet. “I’ve got a Range Rover too.”
“You do?” she asked in surprise.
“Yeah. For trips to the cabin.”
16
Emerson
Derek and I sat side by side with Lizzie across from us in the booth, the three of us eating burgers because that was her favorite thing to eat. She grabbed her root beer and brought it to her lips so she could suck on the straw, her cup pretty much empty but I wouldn’t allow her to get a refill.
Lizzie watched me stare at her. “Why do you keep staring at me like that?”
I grabbed a few fries and put them in my mouth. My answer was a shrug.
Lizzie rolled her eyes and kept drinking her root beer. “Ugh, I hate it when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I countered.
“Like you love me and crap.”
“I do love you and crap,” I countered, trying not to laugh.
Derek was silent beside me, his elbows on the table with his tray empty because he’d eaten everything.
Lizzie rolled her eyes again then reached across the table and grabbed some of my fries.
I swatted her hand away. “Uh, do you mind?”
“I’m starving,” Lizzie countered.
“You just ate an entire number two by yourself,” I countered.
“Well, I play soccer and I’m growing and my brain is working hard all the time now,” Lizzie argued.
Derek chuckled. “I wish using your brain burned calories.”
“It doesn’t?” Lizzie asked in surprise.
Derek shook his head.
“Man…” Lizzie made a face and put the fries back.
“Don’t touch food and then put it back,” I snapped.
“You want me to eat your fries or not?” she snapped back.
Derek chuckled slightly at our interaction.
I wasn’t hungry anyway, so I just gave her the tray of fries.
The Boy Who Has No Belief (Soulless Book 7) Page 16