Chapter 77
I t had been two weeks since justice had finally been delivered.
Two weeks ago, I walked into the office of my adopted father, Edwin Hunt, to find Morgan standing there, a whole courtroom’s worth of evidence of Edwin’s misbehavior, criminal threats, and ethical misconduct.
It was a battle that had started out as low-level in my early adulthood and had taken on a rather personal flair in recent times.
The fight with Edwin was fierce, the kind of thing that you couldn’t make up.
He had faked a profile of an old fling of mine to get me to send nudes, and Morgan had apparently betrayed me, only to sell out Edwin in the end.
And yet, all of the fighting and battling had been worth it.
With my victory over Edwin, I had finally reclaimed my life as my own.
I wouldn’t have to worry about Edwin pulling underhanded maneuvers to defeat my business endeavors.
I didn’t have to worry about whose side Morgan was on.
Truly, I could live in peace and finally begin to believe in trust.
I had to say, the past two weeks had felt like a vacation, and I hadn’t even quit any of my other goals or business endeavors.
I was still supplying advice and mentoring to Claire at Rising Sun and to Andrew at Virtual Realty, my two biggest investments, but I wasn’t having to look over my fucking shoulder for the old man.
I wasn’t having to wonder if someone would hire away each company’s employees for the sake of fucking me over, not caring what happened to Claire or Andrew.
I could just do my job.
It had also been a week since I had moved out of my previous place, a place that wasn’t even my own, a place that had been something of a precarious place to live.
I had moved out of Layla’s apartment and into my own space, a space that didn’t have quite the pizazz of my previous place, but one that provided a lot more of a homely feel and, finally, an apartment that I didn’t have to share with anyone else.
I liked Layla and Morgan a lot, don’t get me wrong, but damn it felt good to be able to stretch out in my boxers, on my couch, and not have to apologize to anyone about the view.
Layla hadn’t taken it so well. She and I had started to rekindle our relationship, even having sex one night, but it was the right move.
I really, truly wanted to give her a sincere shot.
Though I was still in my early twenties, I had had plenty of fun through the years, and Layla had given me something real.
She had also shattered my heart, but in some ways, that made it more valuable that we had gotten back together.
But in any case, me leaving had made her think that I was leaving her.
I had taken this week apart from her to try and see how I still felt about her.
It was kind of a silly move, really. I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Every moment that wasn’t occupied with work usually saw me either looking at her Facebook or Instagram page, thinking about what sex with her was like, or thinking about where we had gone on our dates and where we might go.
I kept texting with her to a minimum, but all that meant was that I had to make a conscious effort not to look like a desperate fool who needed her in my life.
So, in short, I was going to see her soon. Tomorrow, in fact. We had a couple of rules in place I had established—rules Layla wasn’t exactly keen on—but they were rules that were going to help me figure out if she really was the one.
For now, though, I had a couple other people to entertain.
It was six o’clock on a Thursday evening, and I was desperately putting the finishing touches on making my place look presentable.
I was cleaner than most guys my age, but I still didn’t feel like it was good enough for the woman coming over.
No matter how much I scrubbed the counters or swept the floor, the apartment never seemed clean enough.
I suppose that was the curse of living in Manhattan, that pristine was a relative term.
I made sure the table was set and the chicken I had started to bake was coming along nicely. I checked on the sweet potatoes, which also were coming along nicely. Finally, I checked the broccoli and turned on the stove to begin boiling it.
I had the food ready. Now, I just had to get the floor—
A soft knock came at my door. I jumped in surprise, having not checked my phone in the last half hour. I had no idea they were going to come so soon.
“One sec!” I yelled.
I quickly gave the table one last wiping, cleaned my hands, and went to the door.
There, with a huge, easy smile on her face, my mother stood, with my older brother Morgan behind her.
“Oh, Chance, darling,” my mother said as she embraced me.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, feeling even more relaxed with her having come over.
It was a nice feeling to feel this light and free now.
I was a fighter by nature—it’s what had gotten me to where I was—but I didn’t really have anything left to fight for.
I suppose I could “fight” for Layla, but I had learned relationships were more about building toward something rather than fighting for, at least in the combative, competitive sense.
“And Morgan, you punk,” I said, smiling as he pulled out a bottle of Bacardi rum. “It’s a school night, I can’t be having that.”
“You can have a little,” he said as he hugged me. “If Mom’s going to have some, you’re going to have some. Don’t tell me you’re going to say no to Mom.”
“Mom?”
She turned back to me as she set dessert in the fridge, a chocolate cake. She just shrugged and smiled.
“Sorry, Chance. This single lady has got to let loose a little bit!”
“Oh, Lord, OK, wow,” I said, chuckling.
That was another dramatic change that had come within just the last month.
My mother—she wasn’t my biological mother, but to me, she’d earned the title of mom—had finally divorced Edwin.
She actually said I had a large part in it, but I didn’t believe that for two seconds.
They’d been married for longer than I had been alive; a significant portion of that had to happen because of her own courage and will.
It shocked me at first, but for once, I was happy to see a relationship fall apart.
Marriages didn’t deserve to be what Edwin and Melanie had, with two people together more out of convenience than love.
Melanie had also gotten more money out of it to take care of herself and the two of us than any woman ever needed, so that wasn’t going to be an issue either.
“Maybe Mom, you can party after you leave,” I jokingly said.
“Oh, heavens, you know I’ve got to take advantage of every moment I have, I can’t let it go to waste!” she said with a laugh.
Like all the other moments.
I wasn’t sure if this was good etiquette, but I really was curious about one thing.
“How is old Edwin, by the way? Have either of you talked to him?”
“Nope!” Mom said instantly, sounding relieved to not have to answer that question in the affirmative.
Morgan gently laughed as he held me back. I knew that my question might not have been the most appropriate, especially to ask Mom, but I hadn’t heard a word from him since the papers said he was resigning at the end of the quarter.
“You can tell it’s taken a toll on him,” Morgan said. “He’s not as engaged. Keeps his head sunk and low. Won’t look me in the eyes.”
“Damn,” I said. “I suppose the old man had it coming to him.”
“A bit,” Morgan said, his eyes looking distant.
I supposed it was a lot harder for Morgan to have to deal with than me.
Edwin had made no bones about treating Morgan better than me, which sucked for me, but it did mean that Morgan had an actual relationship with him.
I tried to empathize with Morgan, but considering what kind of person Edwin was, it was difficult to favor Morgan feeling sorry.
“Think he’s that way because he’s sorry for what he did, or because he’s upset that he’s lost everything?”
Morgan exhaled through his nostrils, leaning on the wall.
“I’ll answer that a different night,” he said. “I don’t want to discuss it in front of Mom.”
“Fair enough,” I said, patting him on the back.
The two of us came into the kitchen table as Mom looked to be rearranging everything before me. I laughed as I tried to get her to stop, but she was insistent on taking charge.
“Honey, you put the forks and knives on the wrong side,” she said. “And this type of glass, no, it won’t do with that kind of meal. And your food—where is your food?”
My eyes went wide. I didn’t think I’d spent that much time with Morgan, but I had largely been going by feel, and…
I ran over to the oven and opened it. The good news was my sweet potatoes weren’t burned or overcooked.
Unfortunately, the same could not be said for my chicken.
“Whoops.”
“No, don’t whoops yourself, Chance, you’ve been nice enough to host us here, we can make do,” Mom said. “You know what, I’m going to go get a pizza. And no, don’t argue with me. The sweet potatoes can be dessert.”
“But—”
“No buts, boys. Give Mom twenty and she’ll be back.”
Without another word, Mom left, saying she would text us when she was on the way back.
She also said something about texting her what toppings we wanted, but I was so surprised by this new side of Mom that I didn’t know what to think.
I was used to this quiet, meek woman who mostly just stayed in the background as almost an ornament to Edwin.
And now here she was, taking charge, being aggressive, and taking control of the place.
It made me proud, honestly. It made me quite happy to see Mom being like this, not having to rely on Edwin for anything. It would probably be odd to see her fall in love with someone else—if such a thing happened—but it was going to be a happily weird thing, not a disturbing odd thing.
“Mom’s enjoying her freedom, huh?” I said with a chuckle.
“Chance, you have no idea,” Morgan said. “I’m kind of afraid to take her out to dinner. She hits on all the waiters and compliments them.”
“Oh, my,” I said. “Think we have to worry about her coming back with an Italian from the pizza shop?”
“More than I care to admit,” Morgan said with a laugh.
Man, things really are great. Almost makes me wonder if we should have done more earlier to get rid of Edwin sooner. Better late than never.
“But enough about what craziness Mom is getting into,” Morgan said as he poured both of us rum on the rock drinks. “What’s the deal with Layla? Last I talked to you about her, you said you were leaving but willing to give it a shot.”
I think the fact that I smiled and felt warm inside when Morgan asked that was more than enough of an answer for any questions I may have had for myself.
“Feeling it out right now, but we’re going to give it a shot,” I said.
“And what the hell does that mean?”
I shrugged.
“See if we can be a couple.”
Morgan blinked rapidly at me, a little thrown by my statement.
Though Layla had ultimately helped with overthrowing Edwin, Morgan mostly knew her as the woman who had lied to me about her uncle’s business and humiliated me in a public fashion.
I was obviously willing to forgive her, but Morgan needed a little bit more proof.
“You really feel that strong about her, huh?”
“Strong enough to try,” I said. “But I put a couple of rules on it.”
“Oh?” Morgan said. “Do tell.”
I smirked. He was going to mock me for my rules, and I couldn’t wait to hear it.
“It’s two things, really. No drinking, no sex.”
Morgan made a show of spitting out his rum and laughing at me. It was about how I expected him to react.
“Are you dating, or going into a monastery together?” he said, his words interrupted by laughter. “What the hell is the point of you two even going out?”
“Pretty simple to me, really,” I said, though I was definitely overplaying the part of calm, rational man. It’s not like following these rules was making me any happier. If I had it my way, we’d have already had sex about five times this week.
But the overthrow of Edwin hadn’t been the only positive development in my life.
I had learned the value of taking things slow, of not making impulsively irrational decisions, and of letting things organically develop.
I wished that it hadn’t taken me sending nudes to a fake Sarah Hill account that Edwin had set up as blackmail— which, seriously, did he want to see pictures of my junk?
— but it was better that than something that would actually leak at some point.
“If I fuck her, I won’t be able to think straight. I mean, at some point, I’m not going to be able to think straight, but I want to do so when I know it’s safe to think that way.”
“Huh,” Morgan said, looking genuinely surprised by my thought process. “So how long do you think you’ll last on these rules? Two weeks?”
“I’d be happy with two days,” I joked. “But seriously, we don’t have a time on it. We’re just going to let things happen, and when it feels right, it’ll feel right. But I’ll make sure it feels right for a period of time, not just something that feels right in the moment.”
Morgan leaned back into the couch, taking a sip of his drink, looking like he was trying to think through his words very carefully.
“Buddy, I used to think of you as something of a sex fiend who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants,” he said. “And I don’t have much doubt that you could still be that man if you wanted to be. Us Hunts have a way of being able to get around if we want to.”
“Well that’s a thought,” I said with a chuckle.
“But good on you, man. I hope you make the right decision, and if you still want to be with Layla after this is all said and done, I’ll believe that you’ve made a rational decision in picking her.”
That was the hope, at least. I didn’t want to have complete self-control around her; that would’ve been as bad as no self-control. Having just the right amount of self control, though, would go a long way to making things right.
“We’ll see,” I said. “I see her tomorrow morning. Since she’s still job hunting, we’re both free to meet up whenever we want.”
“Yeah?” he said. “And how do you feel?”
Both our phones buzzed as Mom hurriedly texted us for our choice toppings. I laughed. With life as it was, there was only one way to feel.
“Optimistic,” I said. “I really do.”