Stay With Me (Come Back to Me #2)

Chapter 50

Adelaide

After dinner, Justin and I decide that, even though we're stuffed and our clothes barely fit us anymore, we're going to get dessert.

While the waiter is getting the dessert menu for us, I excuse myself to that bathroom so I can freshen up a little.

The bathroom matches the rest of the restaurant perfectly: cream-coloured walls, fancy plants, even fancier sinks, and it smells like an expensive perfume has been sprayed instead of air freshener.

Setting my purse down on the speckled granite countertop, I begin to rifle through my purse for my lip balm and the lip gloss Mom lent me for tonight. It's a sheer coat that's full of sparkles.

As I'm digging through, annoyed at how everything happens to fall to the bottom, my fingers brush against a smooth piece of paper.

I frown.

I never put a piece of paper in here. Usually all I carry around is my wallet, phone, and lip balm. Simple as simple can be.

Forgetting my need for lip balm and gloss, I carefully pull out the envelope. It's pretty basic: white and the usual size you receive in the mailbox. The only thing that stands out is my name written in my dad's writing across the front.

My frown deepens. Why did Dad put an envelope in my purse? No – when did he put an envelope in my purse? The questions only heighten my curiosity.

I open the envelope carefully – I don't want to rip the paper or whatever's inside and ruin whatever Dad's planted in my purse.

With the envelope open, I extract a simple piece of scrap paper that's been folded several times in a horizontal way. It's because of the worn paper that I begin to think this is some kind of joke the male portion of my family is playing on me. There have been several times in my life where either me or Mom or both of us have been the victims of stupid, boyish pranks. Maybe if I unfold the paper, something is going to somehow lunge at my face.

However, there's a flaw. Normally, when they try to play pranks, they get these sly looks on their faces, complete with an evil smirk. I don't recall any evil smirks this morning when we left.

So I go ahead and unfold the paper.

As I do, I catch a glimpse of something red fluttering to the ground. Instantly, I lean down to pick it up.

My heart stops when I see what's in my hand.

"Oh, Dad," I whisper.

In my hand, are four fifty-dollar bills – two-hundred dollars.

I stand up and set the money down beside my purse so I can read the letter.

Addie, make sure you buy dessert. (Though I know it won't be better than mine). – Dad

My eyes fill with tears as I read the message. It's short and sweet and so Dad. I press the letter against my heart, thinking I should call him right this moment and thank him. Then again, he'd probably lecture me on how rude it is to be on your phone during a date.

Feeling content and whole, I carefully fold the letter and slip it back into the envelope. Next, I grab the money and slip that back into it, too. The amount of money Dad has given me to spend on this date definitely exceeds the amount it's going to cost. I've got to show Justin what my dad has done for us.

I quickly apply a thin layer of lip gloss and make sure my hair is okay before heading back out to where Justin is.

When I sit down, he's inspecting the dessert menu.

"Justin?" I ask, running my finger along the envelope in my purse.

He looks up, and the smile on his face fades. "Addie? What's wrong?"

I quickly wipe away the couple of tears that managed to slip down my cheeks. I'm going to have to thank Dad as soon as we're back at the hotel. And Mom, for that matter. They tell each other everything, so she must have known.

"Nothing," I reply. "I'm okay, honestly. But..." I trail off and pull out the envelope, holding it out for Justin to take.

He frowns, but takes it.

It doesn't take long before he's staring at me, blue eyes wide and mouth slacking.

"I know, right?" I ask, shaking my head. "I found it when I was looking for my lip gloss."

Justin looks down at the note again, rereading it. He laughs, holding it and the money out for me to take. "That last comment is so your dad it's not even funny."  

"But you laughed," I tease.

He waves it off, smiling. "Your dad is hilarious and caring, Addie. It's good to know that there are good dads out there."

My heart hurts for Justin. For so long, he's been the oldest male in his family. I can't imagine what it's like to have to grow up so fast and have people expect so much of you. It just makes my respect and adoration for him stronger.

I reach for his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Well, I don't know why you'd want him and his goofiness, but if you ever want to talk about something that you just can't with your mom, I'm sure my dad or Uncle Hart would be open for it." I pause. "As long as it doesn't involve anything to do with me. You know what I mean?"

Justin nods, looking a little embarrassed. But the nod confirms that he understands what I mean. If Justin ever wants to discuss what it's like to have an abusive father, Uncle Hart is the man to talk to. No one understands better than him. My dad is also good to talk to because he helped deal with Uncle Hart's dad.

"So," I say, changing the subject. "See anything you want?"

Justin frowns at me. "We're sharing – we need to decide together."

"Nope," I reply, shaking my head. "You're the one that's going to pick. You barely eat any sugar, Justin, so you get to pick. One dessert isn't going to hurt you."

He glances at the menu. "You sure?"

"Absolutely," I smile.

He smiles, too, and then says, "I love cheesecake. But I can't decide between the raspberry and the vanilla bean."

"Let's get them both," I shrug. "And if can't eat all of them, we can take some back for Chris and our moms."

Justin shrugs. "Sounds good to me."

I can't help but smile. He reminds me of an excited kid on Christmas morning, which is just what he deserves. He deserves to be happy and make his own decisions.

Though he doesn't want to talk about what's to come, it doesn't mean I can't think about it. This surgery – I know it's going to work. He's been given another chance for a reason, right? It has to work. But, if for some reason it doesn't, I'm still going to love him just as much as I do now.

I love him for being him and not trying to be someone else. I love him for being strong and brave and so, so caring.

When I first met him, I didn't know he was going to be this important to me.

But I'm glad he is.

I'm glad we found each other – even if it took seventeen years. It still happened, and for that, I will be forever thankful.