Page 45 of Lovestruck at Sundown
I ended the call and met Nina’s gaze.
“I know Liam’s hurting, and I should be considerate. But I’ve never been happier in my entire life,” Nina said so quickly that she had to stop short to catch her breath after she said that last word. “Damn it.” She closed her eyes and pressed her hands on her forehead for a second. “Does that make me a terrible person?”
“It does not.” I chuckled, rubbing a hand up and down her arm to ease her concern. “If the girl’s got a thing going on with her coach, then I don’t want her having anything to do with Liam either. And I know he’ll get through this. You’ll make sure of it, won’t you?” I winked at her.
“Oh, yes, I’ll take good care of him.” She laughed with an edge of nervousness and excitement all the same.
“So what’s the deal with this coach?” I asked, feeling somewhat worried for Belén. “Isn’t she seventeen? How old is this creepy dude?”
“So check this,” she said eagerly. I loved how Nina had all the juicy gossip straight from the source. The Liam source, to be precise. And it was fruitful in information. “Belen’s lifelong coach quit after she pulled that little scene at the US Open women’s finals last month.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.” How to forget that monumental tantrum? I felt so bad for Belén, though. She was crying, cursing, and overall miserable.
“Anyway, Belén has no coach yet. So this tall, hot—Liam’s words, not mine—nineteen-year-old guywho was a family friend and neighbor of Belen’s family growing up is coaching her in the meanwhile.” She lifted her eyebrows a few times in a suggestive way.
“Makes sense now.” I was glad the coach in question was someone around Belen’s age. She was still a teenager.
“Liam just texted me.” Nina clicked into the thread with a grin and took a few seconds to read. “He wants to know if we can meet up later today to talk about everything that happened with Belén.” She stood and gathered her things. “I should get going then.” She smiled, and I smiled back, getting up from the couch to follow her out.
“Let me know how it goes,” I said, pulling the door open. Nina hugged me goodbye and stepped out. I was about to close the door when the elevator chimed, and the sound of quick footsteps approaching appealed to my curiosity, so I peeked through the gap to see who it was.
“Hey, kiddo.”
“May I comein?” My dad stepped inside my apartment before I could suck in a breath to reply.
“Of course.” Not that it was an actual question, was it? It felt more likeplease step aside because I’m coming in.
I shut the door with a sigh, taking a few seconds before dropping the door handle and turning around to join my dad, who was already making his way to the living room like he owned the place, which he didn’t anymore.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” He crossed a leg over the other in his usual elegant way. He was dressed sharply in a navy-blue suit, pristine white shirt, and a deep burgundy tie. The smell of his familiar musky cologne left a trail behind him. “I’ve called and texted you multiple times. But I had to call Aaron, who confirmed you were home.”
“Nina and I went for a run and left our phones here,” I explained. I wasn’t going to apologize for it. It hadn’t been intentional. And I didn’t want him to feel like he could keep demanding things from me when he’d been nothing but dishonest and unsupportive of me. Trying to forget the lies he told me for years had proved more challenging than I thought. “And I just got here a few minutes ago and was on another call.”
Frowning, he took a deep breath and looked around the apartment in a contemplative way. “You’ve succeeded in deceiving me.” He nodded a few times, slowly. “I don’t know if I should be proud or worried.”
“Deceiving you?” I sat on the couch in front of him and crossed my arms at my chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That was his problem, thinking everyone was like him. Thinking like that is what turned him into a paranoid man. It was sad to realize that.
“Oh, kiddo. Don’t tell me you didn’t plan this”—he waved a haphazard hand in front of him—“with William. You pushed me into selling the apartment while he was ready to buy it under a false name.”
“It’s not a false name,” I retorted, feeling the anger boiling inside me. “That’s the company he uses for his real estate investments.”
“So you do know what I’m talking about.”
“No! I—” I cut myself off and took a deep, calming breath before replying so as to not let my irritation get the best of me. But my goodness, his ability to say things in a way that would make me snap and lose composure in two seconds bordered on disturbing.
This is what he wanted, though. He was here to pick a fight because he was furious and feeling blindsided and wanted someone to pay for the humiliation that afflicted him.
That someone being me.
But I was broken now, in every possible way. I was emotionally and economically spent. And when you’ve got nothing else to lose, a certain sense of freedom accompanies such an inconvenience.
You learn to give zero fucks as a defense mechanism.
For the most part.
“I found out last night that William was the buyer,” I offered out of the kindness of my heart. I could’ve asked him to leave without giving him any explanations. But something told me this was the last I would see of him for a while. Things were too heated between us. We needed space to breathe and for things to cool off. But a naïve part of me was still hopeful that he would come to his senses and support my relationship with William once he realized it wasn’t an act of rebellion or stubbornness.
This was his last chance to reconsider.
