Ready for You (Ready #3)(34)

But what if I do?

It had been eight years since I last saw them, since I’d heard their voices or seen their faces. The only reason I knew their address was because I was nosy, and I’d kept tabs on them after they moved. It hadn’t been more than a couple of weeks after I left Richmond that my father announced the news he’d been offered a job in New York. They had quickly and quietly moved and never looked back. My father had tried to contact me once or twice, but I’d made it clear that I was done.

I’d been done being manhandled and bullied. They’d run my life long enough, and when I’d needed them most, they’d chosen themselves instead.

As I stared across the room at that tattered map, I tried to picture them in my mind.

Would my mother be just as perfect looking—never a hair out of place or a toe out of line? She’d carried herself like the Queen of Sheba and expected nothing less. Would my father still be conveniently absent, letting my mother make all the decisions so that he didn’t have to? He had always allowed her to run his life, never standing his ground for anything—including me. He’d chosen her over me, pushing me away when she told him to, even though I knew he didn’t want to leave.

I’d sometimes wondered how their lives would pan out without me in it. Would they even notice my absence? Would it matter that their only daughter wasn’t around anymore? Or would things go on as normal?

I gave one last glance at the creased and crinkled up map that had become my obsession over the last twenty-four hours, and I let out a curse.

Thirty minutes later, I was showered and dressed. I walked down the street, doing something incredibly stupid. I turned around and walked back to the hotel half a dozen times. I had no doubt that I looked insane to the pedestrians around me.

When I finally made the decision to go through with it, I found the address easily. Like most of Manhattan, the apartment building was well-kept with an uppity doorman who looked down at me as he held the door. I slipped inside with a group of unassuming tenants.

My hands started shaking, and my palms were sweaty by the time I made it up to their floor.

I was so stupid. What was I thinking?

But still, I kept going.

The wide-eyed eighteen-year-old girl who had had her heart crushed by the two people she trusted most in the world needed to know.

I needed to know.

I needed closure, whatever it might be.

So, I continued my journey down the ornate hall, counting the apartment numbers as I went.

My parents definitely hadn’t lost their love for flare. Everything was decadent. From the plush elevator to the exquisite hallways and right down to the gilded door knockers—everything screamed money.

At last, I found my parents’ place. I took a deep breath, pushed the buzzer, and waited.

~Garrett~

She’d been quiet all day.

Last night, as we’d waited for our table at Serendipity, planning everything out, she’d been excited. She’d peeked over my shoulder as I’d bought tickets for the Statue of Liberty, and she’d begged me to take her to the Hard Rock Café even though there were dozens of other restaurants that would have been much better.

But that was where the excitement had ended.

I’d gotten back to the hotel a bit later than I’d planned, but it had still been early enough that we had time to pick up lunch and head out for our boat ride to the statue. After I’d changed and packed up my work clothes, I’d knocked on the door separating our rooms, and I’d gotten a faint reply. I’d opened the door and found her curled up on the bed, staring at a map of the city like it was the saddest thing ever.

“Hey, you okay?” I’d asked, coming forward to comfort her. I’d stopped myself because I hadn’t known where the boundaries of our friendship were.

She’d looked up in a daze, and I’d thought that was when she finally realized I was in the room. She’d appeared startled and quickly shook herself out of whatever funk she was in. It’d felt like a slap in the face to watch her change moods so quickly, but I hadn’t known what else to do, so I’d just gone with it. She’d jumped up and grabbed her things, and then we had headed out for the day.

We’d picked up a quick lunch at the pub downstairs, and she’d barely eaten. We’d ridden the subway, and she hadn’t said a thing.

Even as the boat had pulled away from the harbor and we’d gotten our first glimpse of Lady Liberty, she had been eerily quiet. I’d tried to ask her what was going on, but she had just shrugged it off and cheered back up, posing for pictures and skipping ahead to read signs.

Dinner hadn’t been any better. She’d pushed around her food and stared at the wall. I hadn’t known what to do. Minus the woman sitting in front of me, the only experiences I’d had with women were brief drunken interludes. But even she was different than what I remembered.

Mia from years past would have come out and told me what was troubling her. She would have bled her soul to me the second it was hurting. I didn’t know what to do when she was closed off and silent.

Finally, as we were walking back from the restaurant, I snapped. “Damn it, Mia! Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Her eyes became watery, and she pushed away the tears with her sleeve. “I visited my parents today.”

That was the last thing I’d expected. As we entered the hotel and made our way to the elevator, I tried to come up with a reply.