Page 72 of You, Me, and Forever

And I didn’t doubt it for one minute.

“So how come your brother can have a relationship when he grew up in the same house that you did?”

At the end of the day, we both had parents who had caused a lot of turmoil in our lives.

“I think growing up in our home, we each had different perspectives. He just always wanted this perfect life, you know? Or at least what he thinks is perfect. A wife that he loves. A family that ishappy and healthy. He wants kids, and he’ll be an amazing dad. He used to point it out in movies that we’d watch. You know the ones where everyone in the family is supporting one another, and having a good time. But me, I never longed for that. I wanted to get out of the house. I never longed for a family, because I don’t want to risk fucking up these small humans that are so affected by my decisions. I don’t want to be in a relationship that’s destructive and unhealthy, and that’s all I’ve really known. My mother spent a lot of years loving a man who treated her shitty. I don’t want to fuck anyone up like that, you know?” I took a sip of my drink and waited patiently for him to continue. “So, Samuel was always determined to have this storybook family. But I was different.”

“How so?”

“For the longest time, I thought being a better surgeon than my father would be my way of sticking it to him. But I figured out that doing something that I wasn’t passionate about was only punishing me.”

“So you found something that you were passionate about,” he said.

“Yes. I found my calling, and I fucking love building things. That’s all I need.” I chuckled, trying to make light of it, but nothing about it was light, actually.

“I get that. I felt the same way about being a parent. My dad bailed before I was even born, and my mom was a teenager when she had me, and she couldn’t stay clean long enough to take care of herself, let alone a baby. So, being bounced around in foster care wasn’t easy. And pulling myself out of it took a lot of work. But then Harper came into my life, and my whole perspective changed.”

“How so?” I asked as I sipped my cocktail.

“I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter what you’ve lived through, brother. Everyone has their own shit. Hell, you grew up in a mansion, and I grew up in the system, yet we’re both fucked up in different ways.” He cleared his throat. “So at the end of the day, it’s up to you to decide who you want to be. I’m not my mother and I’m not my father. I’m determined to break that pattern, and that’s up to me to do that.”

“You’re a good man, Charlie Huxley. But if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”

He smirked as Benji walked over to see how we were doing. We both said that we were heading out soon, and they gave me shit that I was probably going to run to Montana’s house.

“Nah. That’s where you’re wrong. We’re doing our own thing tonight. She’s going out with friends, and I’m going to go home and catch up on some work.”

We’d talked about it, and we’d agreed that a night apart might be a good thing. We were spending a ridiculous amount of time together.

And now I was regretting that decision because I was ready to leave, and I didn’t want to be alone.

I wanted to hang out with her.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in.” Benji laughed as he motioned to the patio, where live music was playing, and I spotted her.

Montana, Violet, and Blakely were all dancing together, and I didn’t miss the way every fucking dude out there had eyes on Montana.

“All right, we’ve stayed later than I planned. I need to go relieve Abigail and put Harper to sleep. You want to head out?” Charlie asked, arching a brow.

“No. I think I’ll have one more drink,” I said, and he and Benji both chuckled.

Assholes.

Charlie clapped me on the shoulder. “I’ll bet you will. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Benji grabbed me another drink, and I kept my gaze trained on the patio, until hers found mine.

She smiled and then walked into the bar, making her way over to me.

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Her words slurred a bit, and I knew she’d had a few drinks.

“Have we met?” I said, my voice low and laced with humor.

Her eyes locked with mine, and she smiled devilishly. “I don’t believe so. My name is Dominique Venezuela.”

“What a great name. What do you do for a living, Dominique?”

“I’m a diamond dealer. I do a lot of importing and exporting.” She chuckled as she sat down on the barstool that Charlie had just abandoned.

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