Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Lucas,” she snaps at me, but her lips are curved in annoyed amusement. “Talk to me.”
Still smiling at her, I settle back in my chair and prop an ankle on my knee. “You’re right. I wasn’t ready for this. Or at least I didn’t think I was, but Mom, there’s a tiny little thing growing inside Stephanie that’s partly me, and it’s weird and amazing at the same time. I may have been enjoying the single life, but it’s not the only thing that can make me happy.”
My mother nods in understanding. She raised us well and she never doubted that any of her boys would ever shirk responsibility, but she’s still not satisfied. “Are you happy?”
I tilt my head at her, finally seeing the true worry hidden in her green-brown eyes. “Of course, I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I know you and you’re a traditional type of guy,” she says softly, and I feel the first stirrings of her doubt in Stephanie. “For all your wild ways, you’re still the guy that believes in true love and will get down on bended knee to make a woman his. And you’re a family man. You want to be actively involved and you want to share love. I don’t know Stephanie. Haven’t met her yet. But I’ve learned enough so far to know that what you two have is not traditional in any sense. The way things have happened to you and the current journey you are on is not how you’d planned it.”
“True,” I say without hesitation, even though her words have shaken the ground under my feet. “But I can adapt.”
“Sure you can,” she returns with a breezy wave of her hand. “But as your mother, I only want the best for you. I don’t want you to have to adapt. I want you to have everything you ever dreamed of, and if you can’t have it, I want to help you be at peace with it.”
Fuck…there’s a lump in my throat now and I’m not sure I can even respond to her. She just stares at me with those eyes that have always made me want to curl up in her lap, and I don’t like this feeling. I’m not a little boy but a man, and I can handle these things.
I think.
I swallow through a parched throat and cough slightly. “It’s not how I envisioned my life going, but it’s also not bad either. Stephanie is great and she’s letting me be involved. Letting our whole family be involved.”
“And what exactly is your relationship with her?” she asks bluntly. I want to tell her to mind her own business, but that won’t fly with her.
“We’re friends,” I say slowly, making sure I’m giving it to my mom exactly how it is so she doesn’t get grandiose ideas. “And we’re more.”
“You called it ‘casually complicated’ in one of our conversations,” she reminds me, and that’s was true at one point, but the casual nature of our relationship is totally in question.
“Very complicated,” I sigh roughly. “Stephanie is…well, she’s amazing. Beautiful, smart, funny, outgoing.”
“But—”
“But she’s also closed off, and with good reason. She didn’t have a good upbringing. She was severely neglected, and so she’s the type of woman who just sort of depends on herself for things.”
My mom’s eyes are now worried, and that wasn’t my intent, so I rush to try to reassure her. “She’s going to make a fantastic mother. I don’t want you to worry about that because I don’t. It’s her first chance at true love…that baby. She won’t waste it.”
“What about you?” she asks softly.
“That’s something even I don’t know the answer to,” I admit glumly. “We’re friends. Sometimes I think we’re close and she shares stuff little by little. Other times, she keeps me at a distance and doesn’t want me to help her. She’s hot and cold, and it’s confusing, but I also understand it. She’s never had a relationship before, so it’s hard for her.”
“You’ve never had a close relationship before either,” my mom points out. “You’re a serial dater.”
“Yes, that’s true. But the difference is I had amazing role models in my parents. I may not have experienced a real relationship with commitment, trust, loyalty, and love, but I’ve watched you for twenty-seven years and I have a good idea of how it’s supposed to go. Stephanie has absolutely no frame of reference. Mom, when I tell you she was neglected, I don’t mean physically. She grew up in a wealthy household, but her parents didn’t pay attention to her at all. She may have had gourmet food in her belly and designer clothes on her back, but she has no concept of that original type of love we’re supposed to learn from our parents.”
“That’s terrible,” my mom whispers, and I can see tears of empathy for Stephanie welling.