The Rules of Dating(73)
“You’ve been talking, but have you listened to what you’ve said the last few minutes? You’re both putting each other first, over your own happiness. She’d rather you marry some other broad to protect Saylor, and you don’t want to tell her you love her so it makes it easier for her to dump your ass. Do you really think not saying the words makes them any less true for either of you?”
I ran my finger over the condensation on the beer bottle’s label. “I guess not. But it feels selfish to put that on her right now.”
Holden caught my eyes. “I’ve been there. But you know what failing to speak your truth gets you?”
“What?”
“A night of watching the girl you’re crazy about hold hands with her fiancé years later. Which in turn makes you get shitfaced drunk and go home with a random woman who yells out the wrong name when she orgasms and then hands you your pants ten minutes later as she tells you she needs to get up early the next morning.”
My brows drew together. “You saw Lala?”
Holden nodded. “Played a gig in Philly the other night. She came in with her fiancé, Dr. Douchebag.”
“What did he do that makes him a douchebag?”
My friend looked me square in the eyes. “He was holding Lala’s hand.”
It was the first time Holden had spoken about Lala—what we called Ryan’s little sister Laney—since the week after Ryan’s funeral, when he’d gotten drunk and admitted to me that he’d had feelings for her for a very long time. I’d suspected as much, but I’d kept my mouth shut because it was none of my business. Besides, Lala could handle herself. She was smarter than all of us boneheads put together.
“How is she?”
“All grown up…” Holden looked away for a moment. “My point is, if you think she’s the one, tell her. Don’t beat around the bush or feel guilty for the way you feel. Take it from me, there’s a reason love and lose are only one letter apart. It’s so damn easy to miss the boat and wind up with the wrong one.”
Damn. And here I’d thought his crush on Lala had long passed. Holden was the last person I would’ve thought could give insightful advice on love, yet he’d gotten his point across loud and clear. I nodded. “Thanks, buddy. You’re right. I’m going to nut up and make sure Billie knows I’m more than falling for her.”
He nodded. “So how does it work if you marry Maya? Do you move in with her and shit?”
“No fucking way. It would be a piece of paper only. I wouldn’t have any contact with her at all other than the interview required for immigration. I’ve been reading up. My lawyer had said the process usually takes about nine months, but I’ve also read that sometimes shit slows down, and it can take a few years. The only possible way I could do it is if I could forget Maya exists during that time. I wouldn’t even want to know where she lives.”
“Not to make things more complicated, but what happens if Billie gets pregnant during that time? Something unplanned pops up? Could you get out of the sham marriage if you needed to? Like, get a quickie divorce or an annulment? I mean, shit like that happens every day in real life, right? Is there an escape clause of any sort?”
I dragged a hand through my hair. “I have no damn idea. But the lawyer I met with said sometimes cases can be fast tracked when someone is in jeopardy of being deported and has a child who’s a US citizen. He said we could request that, but there’s no guarantee.”
“Would Saylor meet her?”
“Definitely not. Maya only came back into our lives to use her as a bargaining chip. This isn’t a woman who realized she’d made a big mistake and truly wants to get to know her daughter. I see nothing but hurt if Saylor got to know her as her biological mother—or in any capacity, for that matter.”
“Will you put her on your health insurance at work and tell people and stuff? What about if, God forbid, something happens to you? Does that mean Maya gets custody? And do you have a will? I had an uncle who was married for six months. His wife was cheating on him for their entire short-lived marriage, but he dropped dead of a heart attack before they were legally divorced, and she got his house and stuff. Is there a way around that, just in case?”
I blew out two cheeks full of hot air and shook my head. “You’re making my damn head spin, Holden.”
“Sorry, man. I’m just trying to help.”
I nodded. “I know you are, buddy. And I appreciate that more than you know. If I do decide to go through with it, I’m going to have to sit with my attorney and ask all those questions before anything happens, to make sure Saylor and I are adequately protected. Right now, though, I just need to not talk about it anymore.”
“No problem. Why don’t we talk about my favorite subject…” Holden grinned and sipped his beer. “Me.”
I chuckled. “That sounds perfect. Tell me what’s going on with you lately. Aside from seeing Lala and her fiancé. I’m sure you’ve amassed at least a dozen new stories you can amuse me with since we last spoke.”
Holden guzzled the rest of his beer. “Well, I did almost get a Prince Albert the other day.”
My brows shot up. “You were going to get your dick pierced?”
“Not on purpose. But it almost happened accidentally.”