I’ve taken the stairs to the second floor countless times over the years, and some of them were worse than others—like when I knew Brandi was up there waiting for me in bed, and I didn’t want anything to do with her. But even those ascents pale in comparison to the dread that fills me as I put one foot in front of the other and make my way to my bedroom.
My bedroom now. The bedroom that was supposed to be for Taylor and me.
I stop before the door, and Brandi leans against the hallway wall, just out of sight. “I’m going to listen to every word,” she whispers. “And if it doesn’t sound convincing, I’m making the call.”
“You’re a cruel, cold-hearted bitch, Brandi.”
She just smiles. “Uh huh!”
It takes every bit of strength I have to take those steps into the bedroom. Unaware of what’s happening, Taylor smiles and brushes her hair from her face as I come in. “Hey, Daddy.”
I cringe, knowing Brandi is just outside and heard that. I want to shake my head or give her some kind of sign that I don’t want to say what I’m about to say, but I just can’t risk it. This is all about protecting her now, and if I fail at that, I never deserved her.
Before I speak, I let her beauty wash over me. I try not to picture what our lives could have been together, but the images just fill my mind. I see us together, sleeping, eating, exploring the world. I see her finishing college, getting her degree, marrying me, starting a family.
I bunch my hand into a fist behind my back.
Do it. Rip the Band-Aid off. Waiting will only make it worse.
“This is it,” I tell her. “We’re over.”
A look of confusion comes over her face, but she shakes her head and laughs.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” She smiles. “For whatever I did, I’m sorry. Feel free to punish me—”
“This isn’t a joke, Taylor,” I growl. “I just wanted to fuck you, and now that I have, I have no more use for you. Your mother is leaving. I need you to get your things and leave with her.”
The words spill out of my mouth like poison, burning my throat, singing my lips. I want to cut out my tongue as the sorrow fills her eyes.
“Why are you saying this, Rick?” she asks.
I shrug. “Because it’s the truth. You really think I would want to settle down with an eighteen-year-old girl who hasn’t even been to college? Get serious and get out.”
Unable to bear it any longer, I turn my back on her and stride out of the bedroom. Brandi’s waiting for me like an evil queen. I flash her a filthy look as I pass her and head straight outside and hop in the Ferrari. I gun it out of the driveway and head north. My business meetings will have to wait. I just lost Taylor, the most important part of my life, and I don’t know if I will ever recover.
8
Taylor
Three weeks later…
For the first time since Rick broke my heart, I don’t wake up crying. I’m on the verge, though, and when I go into the bathroom and look in the mirror, the tears fall.
I look like death. The last twenty-one days have taken their toll on me. I haven’t even bothered to shower in three days, and my hair looks like I’ve been sleeping on the streets.
If you were to drive by my new house that I’m sharing with my mom, you wouldn’t ever think there would be someone as miserable as me inside. It’s huge, worth nine million dollars, and could be featured on any one of those YouTube channels that shows off enormous celebrity homes.
But to me, it’s nothing more than a prison cell.
Every day I’m reminded of Rick, whether it’s my mom talking to her lawyers, documents showing up at the house for the divorce proceedings, or seeing him online or on TV with countless reporters speculating on the status of his marriage.
I even made it into some of the footage. It was the day he took me out shopping. Only one of the reporters made some crack about Rick dumping his wife for his “sexy, teenage stepdaughter,” but his female co-host scolded him so quickly that he immediately took it back.
No, that’s not on anyone’s minds. And why would it be? I was dumb enough to believe it was more than a fling anyway. Come on, my stepdad being in love with me? That kind of love?
I guess that’s what I get for being as naïve as I am.
Mom and I aren’t speaking. I pass her in the kitchen from time to time, but mostly I have food delivered around the side entrance so I can avoid her. I’ve even been applying for jobs as a server so I can get out of the house and away from her.
I threw out all the clothes Rick bought me. Filled trash bags with them and put them in the bins outside. All except the lingerie and heels. Those got a special treatment. We have a fire pit out back, so I burned them to a crisp. The lingerie was easy, but the heels took a few hours to turn to ashes.
Ashes…just like the ashes of my scorched heart after Rick carpet-bombed it on the worst night of my life.
“Going out, honey!” my mom announces from the front door, her voice shrill like a rusty ironing board.
I don’t bother answering. Since we moved, my mom has become something of a Real Housewife. She has a gaggle of friends, all of them rich and divorced, living off their ex-husbands’ money, and they love getting together, getting drunk and having to take an Uber home.
If only I had my own money. I’d get out of here. Out of this city. Out of this state. Maybe even out of the country. But I know that no matter what the distance, I’ll never be able to forget Rick.
Hell, I can’t even push my feelings for him out of my chest. Despite what he did to me, taking advantage of me in that way, I can’t help but love him. Love and hate, all mixed up into one like an ice cream sundae covered in vinegar.
Once my mom is gone, I wander downstairs and go out to the back yard and look up at the stars. It’s a beautiful night and a shame I don’t have anyone to share it with. Having Rick’s arm around me would make it absolutely perfect. But would it even be the Rick I thought I knew?
Did that Rick ever even exist?
“Hey, you.”
The shock of a male voice behind me causes me to jump and throw my phone into the grass. I whirl around, expecting to find a robber or a rapist with a gun aimed at me, but instead find Rick, casually dressed in a pair of gray pants and wearing a white T-shirt, smiling at me in a way that makes my heart melt.
No. Don’t fall for it!
“How—what are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“You don’t think I’d buy your mom a house and not have a spare key made, did you?”
He advances on me slowly, and just like it happened before, I feel my body coming alive for him. Desperately, I fight to push those feelings down and remind myself of just who it is I’m dealing with. The man who broke my heart just so he could pop my cherry. Now the memory of my first time is like a black burn mark on the history of my life.
“Get out of here, Rick!” I say as I back up. “Get away from me!”
“I’m sorry, beautiful—”
“Don’t call me that!” My voice scrapes my throat as it comes out. “I hate you! You’re a liar, and you broke my heart! You told me you loved me!”