Within These Walls (Within These Walls #1)(49)

According to my mother, all research should be done in a library. Google was for morons and perverts. The fact that she’d used it to look up Jude meant she was flustered and seriously frustrated.

“Yes, I was curious about the boy you’ve been spending so much time with.”

“Mom, he’s twenty-five. He’s hardly a boy.”

She ignored my comment and continued to watch me from her tattered blue throne. “Do you think he’ll take care of you? Is that what this is all about? He’s wealthy and powerful, so you think he’ll protect you?”

I stared at her, my mouth agape, before I let the shock wear off. “Is that what you think of me? What you think of him?”

“I don’t know him,” she answered.

“No, but you know me. Do you think I’d do that? Hand myself over on a silver platter?” I spit.

“I did,” she said softly.

“What?”

“Men promise all sorts of things when they want something, especially when it involves a woman. Your father was no different.”

My breath hitched when I heard her mention him. In my twenty-two years on this earth, she’d only ever spoken about him a handful of times. She never brought him up herself, and she always quickly dismissed the subject of him. The majority of what I knew about the man were small things I’d learned from medical records.

“From the moment we met, I was completely infatuated with him. He made me feel reckless with his constant pursuit. He promised me the moon and the stars, and I believed every word. He said he’d always protect me, but when I became pregnant, he vanished, just like his false promises.”

“Mom…” I started, my voice hoarse from the unshed tears I was holding back for the pain my mother had suffered. “Not all men are like my father.” I realized then that even after that heartfelt story, she still hadn’t revealed his name to me. The only father I knew was faceless and without a name.

“How can you be so sure?” she asked, leaning forward to take my hand in her own.

“I don’t think anyone can be. But isn’t that what life is all about? Taking a risk on something? Someone? Jude is a wonderful person, Mom—a very poor, penniless person,” I added.

Her eyes went wide. “But I thought…he looks so much like…” she stammered.

“He is. That is him. Your Google skills are fine. It’s a long story and one you should probably ask him yourself, but just know that I don’t expect anything from him, and he doesn’t expect anything in return. I know this is stressful for you. I understand that I’m disrupting your sense of control, but please, Mom, let me take this risk, let me love someone.”

She nodded, rising from her seat to join me on the bed. I willingly let her pull me into her arms, loving the way I still fit into her small frame. She was controlling and overbearing at times, but she was my mom. She was my home, and everything she’d done since the moment I came screaming into this world had been because she loved me.

“Just be careful, my little angel.”

I smiled against her chest, remembering how Jude had called me that same sweet thing mere hours earlier. Mom had named me Lailah after the Hebrew angel of pregnancy. When she’d discovered my heart defect during a routine ultrasound, she’d wanted to give me a name that was strong and hopeful. She might not be a religious person, but I thought it was somehow her way of asking for a bit of help to whoever might be listening.

“I will, Mom, I promise.”

She gave me a small squeeze, and I closed my eyes, knowing I’d lied to my mother.

There was nothing careful about falling in love.

Eighteen: Dancing in the Rain—Jude

IT HAD BEEN a little over a week since that horrible day Lailah’s fever nearly took her from this world. A fever was so simple for most but extremely deadly for her. It was no wonder her mother had become so controlling regarding every minute detail of Lailah’s life. Her mother had gone over the deep end to ensure Lailah’s safety, but standing on the opposite side of parenthood, I would wager a mother would do anything and everything to keep her child from dying even if it meant keeping the child from living a normal life.

For the most part, life at the hospital had returned to normal. After my forced few days of vacation, I had been allowed to return to work after I’d shown no symptoms of Lailah’s virus, and then Lailah and I had fallen back into our late-night pudding visits. The only difference was the addition of my off-hour daytime drop-ins. A one-hour lunch break wasn’t enough anymore, and I didn’t have an endless bank account to fall back on. I needed my job. Now, more than ever, the hospital had become my home. I would be here morning, noon, and night, only running home to shower, crash for sleep, and plan.

I was always planning.

Movie night hadn’t been the only trick up my sleeve. Since that night, I’d managed to pull off a few other place holders in hopes of making Lailah’s prison sentence a bit more palatable.

We’d had an ice cream parlor one afternoon where I’d brought in ten different flavors of ice cream. We’d proceeded to make a sundae worthy of the cheesy name I’d created for my fictional ice cream endeavor.

“A Dude Named Jude’s Ice Cream Parlor?” she’d asked with a snarky grin.

“Hey, it took me a really long time to think that up. I lost precious hours of sleep.”