Seventy

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It's been a harsh day but one glance at Adrian and my smile reappears. I hurl myself toward him, crashing heavily onto him. I'm glad he's here today. Maybe a part of me needed someone to tell you, and there's no one else I want to share this ache in my heart with except him.

"How are you feeling?" His palms wrap around my cheeks, sheer concern projected through his eyes.

I free a skeptical smile. "Better. It's a matter of time; I'll get over it."

"You sure?" He's hardly convinced, and I understand why. I'm not okay. "You know you don't need to pretend with me, right? The truth, Arabella. How do you feel?"

Edging back, I push out a loud breath. Adrian's eyes narrow carefully at me, gauging my expressions as if he's a doctor monitoring his stubborn patient.

"Well, I'm still a mess. Is that what you want to hear?" I laugh softly, possibly pathetically.

"If it's how you truly feel, then yes," he answers calmly while shutting the door behind him. "I heard you haven't eaten anything today?"

Here comes Daddy Adrian!

"Yeah." Okay, who told him this? Jake? My housekeeper? We need an NDA in this house. "Please don't start scolding me now." I try acting cute with him, pouting my lips and other maneuvers Isla expertly uses to have things her way.

"It's not working." He pokes my forehead, pushing me back. I growl, and he laughs. "Now listen, woman. You're going to eat first before anything else," he says in that condescending tone of voice.

I oblige half-heartedly.

During lunch, his attention is undivided on me. I wonder what's on his mind, but his question about moving to New York with him is still unanswered for all I know. That's something I can't decide overnight because it's about my siblings too and there's a lot to consider.

My siblings are my responsibility and by no means will I load it on him simply because we're dating. Perhaps New York is one of the three options I've got on my plate, if not somewhere in California or Florida if I choose to move but it's not something I can decide on my own.

Jake has a say in this.

He's no longer a kid now. His thoughts count in every step we take.

"So your mother came and left?" Adrian asks after a long moment, still keeping tabs on my plate until it's empty.

"Yeah." I nod, and my appetite sinks deep into my stomach at the thought of Laura. "She didn't have any plan to stay. She's... married. She has a new family and we're not important enough for her to stay. Or at all."

Stunned, Adrian's face twists in a confused manner. "She said that?" he asks.

"She didn't have to. It was all very clear from the day she walked away," I reply.

If my memories are still intact, I recall the fact that my mom was never like other moms I know. Unlike Lara or Josh's mom, she didn't love being a family-oriented woman or wife. Cooking for us, and other house chores were not part of her normal and sometimes I felt like she was a stranger in our lives—always different, and constantly distant. I don't know if she liked being our mom. I doubt.

Ask about the new hair trend and new summer collections, and my mom would tell you all about it. She loved to travel but hated family vacations. Laura Donovan was the epitome of selfishness. Thank God my father worked as a diplomat working for the German Consulate here in Las Vagas, a promising career that allowed a life of comfort for us until he lost it all when he wrongfully got suspended due to an embezzlement scandal.

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