forty-two #2
Julian studied me for a moment, and for once, the teasing slipped out of his expression. "Fair enough," he said simply, taking a sip of his drink. "You deserve somebody who's more settled."
"You get it. The last thing on my mind right now is dating honestly. The only thing I have for a man in this point in time is a go to hell."
He tapped his index finger and his thumb together. "Shit, I don't blame you. Raising your kid, chasing your dream, handling all the shit life's throwing at you. That's a lot. Anybody who can't meet you there? Don't waste your time."
The words settled in my chest like warmth I hadn't realized I was missing. I stared at him for a beat longer than I meant to, then smiled, small but genuine. I leaned over and gave him a hug.. "Thanks, Jules."
"Anytime," he said, "Now hurry up and eat that so we can go back to class."
I rolled my eyes, but the heaviness in my chest eased just enough to take another bite.
Even with the envelope still waiting at home, even with everything I hadn't said, for the first time in days, I felt... okay.
After class, I picked up Alina from Tim and Lisa's. She was already fed, dressed in clean leggings and a tiny sweater, her curls freshly washed. They'd taken care of her the way they always did-seamlessly, without me needing to ask.
It never stopped humbling me, how much they'd done for us.
During my pregnancy, when I could barely stand long enough to make a meal, Lisa had filled my fridge.
When I was too prideful to admit I needed help, Tim dropped off a box of diapers once a week.
They never treated it like charity. Just... family.
By eight, I'd dropped Alina back off at their place before heading to my shift.
I only worked three shifts a week, so they didn't have to keep her over night often.
Her little voice had echoed in my head the whole drive, singing some song she made up about pancakes, and I held onto that sound as I pushed through the club's back entrance.
I walked straight to the dressing room that was buzzing the way it always was before midnight. I sat at my station, bare-faced now, pulling out all my makeup routine products. My phone lit up across the counter: Tati.
I swiped to answer, tucking it between my ear and shoulder. "Hey."
"Hey yourself," she said, her voice warm and easy even over the static. "How's my favorite girl?"
I smiled despite the ache in my lower back. "Passed out at Tim's. I dropped her off before I came to the club."
"miss my niece. Seth signed Miles up for this toddler football league. He was so tired when he got back home."
Her words curled around me like home. For a second, I could almost smell her house in Texas.
"How's the club?" she asked.
I glanced around-girls teasing each other in Spanish, one of them bent over fixing a broken strap with super glue. "Same as always. Loud and paying the bills."
"That's what matters."
I hesitated, thumb brushing over the edge of the vanity. "I got...something in the mail last week."
She heard the weight in my voice instantly. "What kind of something?"
"A wedding invitation."
There was a pause. "From who I think?"
"Yeah."
"Girl." Her tone went sharp in that way only Tati's could. "Why would he think you'd wanna go to that?"
I huffed out a laugh, dry. "That's exactly what I said. Like...what part of leaving and never speaking to you again screams I would like to be a guest?"
Tati made a sound halfway between a curse and a scoff. "Some men have nerve. I swear."
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. "It threw me, though. I didn't think he'd even remember I existed."
"Stop that," she snapped gently. "You know damn well you weren't forgettable."
I bit down on my lip, saying nothing.
She must've heard the silence for what it was, because her voice softened. "Do you ever think about it? What would've happened if you'd told him about Alina?"
My throat tightened. "Sometimes."
"And?"
"And..." I let out a breath. "I think it's for the better. Honestly. What would it have been? A baby tucked away because she's a scandal? Two grandparents who'd probably hate her for existing because she'd 'ruined' his career? Me,
forced to hide my own daughter so he could keep playing golden boy for the media?"
The words came out sharper than I intended, and they hung there between us.
Tati didn't rush to fill the silence. She just let me have it.
Finally, I whispered, "She deserves better than that."
"She has better than that," Tati said, steady as stone. "She has you."
Something in my chest pinched tight. "Thanks."
"Don't thank me. Just remember it." She paused, then sighed. "Alright, I'll let you go do your thing. Call me when you get home safe, yeah?"
"Yeah," I said quietly.
When I hung up, I stared at my reflection for a long moment. Under the harsh vanity lights, I didn't look like "Dream." I didn't look like Brooks's secret, or anyone's anything.
Just me.
By the time my shift ended, my tote was heavier than I'd expected. A good night. Two private rooms, a regular who tipped like he was trying to impress everyone in the building, and enough bills to make me feel less panicked about next month tuition payment.