20. Tru
CHAPTER 20
TRU
N ow
I couldn’t believe I kissed him to get him to focus. It wasn’t just my job at stake or the money I desperately needed to continue to afford school without my adoptive parents' help, it was the fact that he could fail. And while I hated Vaughan most of the time—I hated his father more. I’d never forget the day I overheard their conversation, and I’d never forget the look on his dad’s face. So empty, so angry, and I knew why.
I never told Vaughan.
Once I made a promise, I kept it, but I always wondered if things would have turned out differently if I’d been more honest about the why behind things. I got it—communication was number one—but what if that communication broke someone? What if it broke multiple someones? Then was it better to shield them from the truth and allow them to believe the lie in order to save them from one more stab to the heart?
I shook my head, physically trying to get my inner thoughts to calm down, and continued my walk back toward the house. I swear on Vaughan's life, if they have another party tonight or if I see one more pizza box, I was going to commit murder. I was still pissed about the piss!
Weirdly enough, things were silent when I entered the house.
Brady was girlfriendless, which was semi alarming, and he wasn’t taking selfies, which was also troubling.
“Cinderella,” he called from the couch, not looking away from the TV. “Big plans this weekend? More sexy dresses you need to burn so you don’t force Vaughan to end up in prison?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sadly, that was the last one.”
“Thank God.” He made a cross over his chest and leaned back against the couch. “So? Plans?”
“Ah.” I looked down at my cell. She’d called again. Then texted me the time to arrive. Be punctual, she’d said as if I couldn’t tell time.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “Yeah, well, it’s kind of my birthday tomorrow. My adoptive mom wants me to come to some event with her and catch up.”
Brady frowned and paused the TV. “Wait, it’s your birthday, and you have to go to her event?”
I sighed. “Long story short. I’m a very good trophy child. Bonus points for being short and cute. The donors love it.”
Brady threw the Apple Remote. “For real? Can’t she do that shit on her own day?”
I really didn’t want to have to explain. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll smile and wave, make her proud, convince everyone that I have the family I always wanted and dreamed of growing up, one that gave hugs instead of gifts and used words instead of passive-aggressive looks across the table for using the wrong fork or, and this is a bad one, sneezing.”
“No shit?”
“I still have trauma when I’m about to sneeze. I’ve never been yelled at so loudly.” I forced a smile. “Seriously, I’m used to it. Are you headed out with the girlfriend?”
He shrugged. “She’s her own woman. Gonna let her go hang out with the girls, maybe have a spa day, then when she comes home, I’m going to give her a massage and tell her how perfect she is while baking her favorite dish.”
He was positively beaming. Seriously, who was this guy? “Really?”
Brady walked up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m full of shit. I’m possessive as hell, and I will have that woman naked beneath me screaming my name at least three times before brunch, but it was a nice thought. She can hang with the girls during the week. On the weekends, she’s mine, and she’s not leaving my bed, though I will DoorDash the fuck out of that app and order her whatever she wants—that’s love. Being together.”
I visibly flinched. I knew it was worse than I thought when he lifted his hand to touch my shoulder again. “Gotta go.” I forced another lame smile. “I have some studying to do.”
“Yeah, sure, sure.” He took a step back and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets while I made a beeline to my room and quickly shut the door behind me.
Memories of my birthday with Vaughan suddenly assaulted me—the only birthday I celebrated with him. It was magical. He’d asked me what I wanted, and I told him I just needed him, the beach, and a dozen donuts with champagne.
Not only did the man deliver but he also set up a tent on the beach with a campfire. Sometimes when I closed my eyes, I could still smell the smoke. It was like he’d looked into my soul and taken every single note, then given me the best present I could have asked for.
Him.
The stars.
The smell of wood burning.
Sugar.
And a bit of a buzz that lingered long after the champagne was gone and long after we spent the night naked in that tent.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sandra yelled, hands on hips, wearing her stupid white pantsuit. “You’re sleeping together? Wow, that didn’t take you long, did it, Tru? To find the worst possible guy and give him your heart. Let me know how that goes when he tramples all over it. I thought you were smart!”
Shaking from fear of getting kicked out of the house, out of the security it provided me, I burst into tears.
“Stop.” Vaughan shielded my body from her. “Right now. We’re together. This isn’t some weird fling. I genuinely care about her.”
Sandra rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I genuinely care about charity.” Her eyes locked on mine.
I let out a sharp gasp. Did she just call me charity to my face?
Visions of my future shattered at that moment. I wanted to run, but where does a person who nobody's ever wanted really go? And was he using me? I did have doubts at times only because it was moving so fast and because he’d done such a one-eighty.
I was no longer shielding myself with him.
The aftermath would be devastating to me.
No. I trusted him. It was fine.
“Well”—Sandra kicked sand toward us—“I hope it was worth it. Mark my words, Tru. He’ll leave you. It’s what Aires men do. They promise you the world when it benefits them, then show you their backs because something else is more convenient.”
She tripped over her feet and nearly face-planted into the sand in an effort to stomp back down the beach and up to the house.
Vaughan pulled me tighter against his naked chest. “You okay?”
I shivered in his arms. “Let’s not talk about it.”
“She didn’t mean it,” he whispered against my hair.
A tear slid down my cheek. “Thank you for the lie.”
“I’m here still.”
That was the moment I knew.
Charity was interchangeable with the name Tru.
We were the same.
I collapsed onto my bed and let out a groan. My phone went off again. It was probably Sandra. Sadly, she was the only constant in my life so no matter how many times I’d felt like charity from her, she did at least never let me down when it came to her mood and gifts. Like clockwork, she’d send me things or have them delivered on holidays, not to mention she was paying for my school, but I hoped the money I earned from tutoring would at least help me crawl out from underneath her. I hated asking for money for books or for food, and it kind of felt good that she hated I was working because it somehow made her look less generous.
Ugh, what a mess.
A knock sounded at my door.
I groaned. “Go away!”
The knock got louder, and then, he said, “Coming in.”
“What the hell!” I jerked up onto my elbows.
Of course it was Vaughan. Great timing.
“Shouldn’t you be at practice or prowling the streets for your next whore? I’m not in the mood for negative and emotional banter. I mean it.”
Vaughan leaned against the doorframe. “Party.”
“Huh?”
“Tomorrow.” He smiled so wide that my heart skipped a beat. His wickedly dangerous dark blond hair was wet like he’d just showered or at least gone for a run, and he was wearing the tightest black shirt known to humankind with shorts that did nothing but remind me that, yes, he was indeed a quarterback with ginormous quads who never skipped leg day.
Party? Did he mean like… my party? A party? Nobody had ever thrown me a party before. Was he serious, or did he mean, like party as in get drunk?
I sat fully up and crossed my arms. “Explain in less than thirty seconds, or I’m building a shank out of sheer willpower and rage.”
He pushed away from the door and sauntered over to me until I faced nothing but stupid gray shorts that hid nothing from my line of vision.
His clapping jerked me out of my staring contest with his dick. “Eyes up here, Cinderella.”
For the first time in a while, I was too exhausted to even have a nasty response. I just obeyed. “Are you going to explain?”
“Yeah, so tomorrow?—”
He remembered! I jumped to my feet. “Tomorrow?” Tears were actually welling in my eyes. In one small moment, he completely redeemed himself because he remembered. He remembered my birthday!
“Tomorrow!” He nodded seriously. “We party our asses off because I just got an A on my test, and it’s all thanks to you!”
He wrapped his arms around my body and hugged me tight. When I didn’t hug back, he pulled away and winked. “Nerd.” He started walking away. “Eight. Don’t be late. No excuses.”
“Right.” My breaths were coming out too fast. I could barely inhale, let alone exhale. “Eight.”
He shut the door behind him.
He didn’t see me collapse onto my bed.
If he had come into my room the next day, he would have still seen the tear stains on my pillow. He would be able to taste the sadness in the air.
The feeling of getting your hopes up only to realize it was for nothing.
And the absolute temptation of self-sabotage that went with it.
He would see it all.
The old Vaughan would have held my hand and said, “What can I do?”
This Vaughan, he wasn’t mine anymore. He looked the same. But there was too much damage.
Happy Birthday to me and my sadness.