Chapter 32
Lior
“I don’t understand,” Addie said, frowning at me from across the kitchen island in her kitchen. “I thought you guys were just hanging out every so often. No big deal. That’s what you told me.”
I had arrived at her clinic at noon after renting a car and driving straight there to see her.
She’d been in the middle of an exam and popped her head out to wave at me and tell me when she’d be home.
From there, I went to her house, let myself in with my key, turned off my phone, and laid on the couch where I fell asleep until she arrived home several hours later.
“I know that’s what I told you,” I said, not meeting her eyes and fidgeting with the frayed cuff of my flannel shirt. “I may have undersold the situation a bit though.”
“Undersold it how much?”
I puffed out my cheeks and then exhaled.
“We’ve had sex.”
“WHAT?!”
She tossed a wadded-up napkin at me and I batted it way, my face hot with embarrassment.
Glaring at me, she turned on her heel and disappeared. When she came back, she had a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.
“Move it, Flynn,” she barked at me, nudging my knee with her leg. “I want details.”
An hour later she was caught up and the bottle of wine was nearly empty.
“You love him,” she said.
“I don’t love him.”
“Well, you sure feel something for him. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. I guess… I was afraid. Not of you but, saying the words out loud. Because that would be admitting to it and— I just couldn’t.”
Addie leaned back on the couch and swirled her wine, studying me.
“I know you’ve had a rough go of it with men,” she said.
“I get it. My track record isn’t something to shout from the rooftops either.
We choose dumbasses and assholes. It’s like a gift.
Behold!” She threw her head back and arms wide, the wine in her glass nearly spilling over the edge.
“The almighty queens of bad decisions and regret!”
I laughed.
“But—” she said, dropping her arms and turning serious again. “I don’t think for one minute you didn’t know those men weren’t right for you. I think you thought you could change them. You were self-sabotaging from the get-go.”
I thought about that for a long moment, remembering how many times I’d wondered how to fix them, or us.
I’d bend myself backwards, tie myself in knots and get angry as I tried to make something work that just didn’t because they weren’t willing to change.
They weren’t willing to do the work to make us work.
Because for them, it was working just fine.
According to them, I was the one with the problem. How many times had I heard that?
And then it hit me.
I had accused Graham of doing the same thing to me.
Of trying to make me change. But he hadn’t.
He’d never asked me to change me. He just got excited that my situation might change.
Sure, he was an ass for not wanting to give us a chance, but could I really blame him for that?
My life could be a lot. The attention. The photographs that came seemingly out of nowhere…
It was invasive, and a job in itself just to avoid it.
And he knew what that was like. He’d lived it.
He knew what he could and couldn’t handle. What he would and wouldn’t handle.
He had set boundaries. Healthy boundaries.
What was that like?
And I— I was still the same young girl inside. Scared of being rejected and projecting my own actions on someone else.
I looked at Addie, nodding.
“Okay,” I said. “I get that.”
“Graham is a good guy, Lior. I think you know that. I think you know you can trust him too. So, what’s the real problem?”
I peered at her. “Have you been reading books on how to psychoanalyze pets again?”
“Maybe. That’s not the point. Tell me what the real problem is.”
“I don’t trust myself?”
“Nope.”
I glared at her.
“I…” I bit my lip, trying to find the answer hidden somewhere in my brain. “I don’t know!”
“Lior, my love. You have mommy issues.”
I stared at her, frowning in confusion, and then shook my head.
“No,” I said. “That’s…” I shook my head again, my brain whirling.
“You were cast aside by your mother, a woman who uses her looks and celebrity to get what she wants,” Addie said.
“She’s a user. A manipulator who made you feel less than by putting you down and picking you apart every chance she got, making you feel small and not worthy.
And so you tried to change. I watched it unfold almost daily, babe.
You tried so hard to gain her approval, and she just wouldn’t fucking give it to you.
” She sat up and put her empty glass on the coffee table and then moved closer to me.
“Your first crush. Whatshisname. Remember how he always asked you for money at lunch? And you always gave it to him, even though that meant you wouldn’t have enough for your own lunch, so you ended up eating half of mine. ”
“Sorry,” I said.
“It’s fine. I lost those last few pounds of baby fat that year and finally fit back into that pair of jeans I loved.
Anyways. You gave him the money because it made him pay attention to you.
You knew he’d come back again. He needed you.
Every single guy you dated, with the exception of Jeremy, used you.
Made you feel like you had to do something or change something about yourself to make yourself worthy of their time and affection. Just. Like. With. Your. Mom.”
I couldn’t see now, my eyes were so filled with tears.
“And here comes handsome Graham Forrester,” Addie continued.
“Decent guy. Not too hard on the eyes. Doesn’t need anything from you.
Doesn’t even actually want anything because he’s been so fucked over by his ex, he’s afraid of his own shadow.
But you two collide on a fate paved in dog shit, and neither of you can get out of your own way to figure out that you’ve found something pretty fucking special. ”
She reached for my hand.
“Your mom is a classic narcissist, my friend. And I’ll never forgive her for what she’s done to you. Never.”
I drained my glass and set it beside hers on the coffee table.
“What do I do now?” I asked.
Addie tilted her head and I laughed.
“One really does look like a puppy when they do that,” I said.
“See?” she said, her eyes widening before getting serious again.
“Look, I obviously don’t know what’s going to happen with Graham.
He has his own set of issues that he needs to deal with and he’s numero uno on my wink wink shit list right now for making my girl cry, so my fangirl status has dropped a few rankings.
You guys will figure this thing out, or you won’t.
What I do know is, you need to start thinking about you.
Really considering you. What you want. Not what anyone else wants.
And not what would make Lillian Flynn proud.
Fuck that chick. That last photo shoot you were on was bullshit.
It was not the first time and it won’t be the last. You need to decide what you want to put up with.
You’ve complained a lot the last couple of years about the hours, the travel turnaround time, and the ridiculous standards.
You’ve also been contemplating next steps for a while now.
Maybe it’s time. If not to completely step away, to at least dip your toes in something else that could be the starting point of a whole new chapter.
Something that uses that fantastic brain of yours and makes you feel worthwhile inside.
Like maybe that job for Avery? And only then, and after some more therapy focused on how your mother screwed you up, should you think about having a romantic relationship with anyone. ”
I nodded, considering what she’d said.
“So… is it an in-person course on psychoanalyzing your pets, or just a book,” I asked. “Because it is well worth the money and I’d like to invest in you. I think you’re going places, kid.”
She threw a pillow at me. “Jerk.”
I laughed and placed the pillow on my lap and reached to take her hands in mine, my eyes filled with tears.
“I hear you,” I said. “Thank you. You’ve given me a lot to think about. I know I have a lot of work to do, and I will. I promise.”
“Good. Because despite that ugly mug of yours, I think you’re going places too.”
I made a face, gathered our glasses and the empty bottle, and headed for the kitchen.
“More wine?” I called over my shoulder.
“Let’s mix it up,” she said. “There’s sangria in the fridge.”
I snorted laughter as she shouted that she’d be right back, she was going to check the mailbox.
As I headed back to the living room with two glasses of sangria, I could see Addie standing stock still in the entryway, staring down at something in her hands.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
She walked to me, took the glass from my hand, and held out a magazine. Frowning, I stared at her for a moment and then looked at what she was holding out.
And there we were. Me and Graham. On the cover of Vogue magazine.
And we looked hot as fuck.
“Figure out your shit, Lior,” Addie said. “Or I will never let you live down letting that one go.”
She sank onto the sofa and took a long drink of her sangria.
“Now, give it back,” she said. “I need to see what you two got up to.”
We sat side-by-side, slowly taking in each photograph, me telling her details from the moment, her threatening to take the spread to bed with her.
When we got to the last one, she flipped back to the beginning, taking them all in again while I sat beside her, remembering every second of how it had felt to touch him that day.
And how it had felt to touch him more intimately later.
My body and soul ached for him.
“Hey,” I said, getting to my feet. “I think I’m going to make an early night of it. Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night after you get off work?”
“Of course.”
She was looking at me with concern but I waved her off.