It's a Fugly Life (Fugly #2)(42)

Less than a block from his place, the streets quiet and tinged with an orange glow from the streetlamps, Patricio finally broke the silence.

“Lily, I think you should stay at my place tonight. It is a long drive to your apartment and it’s very late.”

Uh. No. I didn’t want to create any opportunities for mixed signals. “I’ll be fine.” What were two more hours?

“You might be, but what about your baby?”

I blinked for a moment, letting that sink in. Baby. Baby. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. But dammit. He was right. I had to start changing the way I lived and ate and slept and…my entire life? I was not prepared for this. Truly I wasn’t.

“You can sleep in the guest room,” he offered.

“What about your family?” I asked.

“They’ve rented a beach house—too many to all stay with me. So you can have a bed all to yourself.”

“Sure. Okay. Thanks, Patricio.”

When we arrived at his house, a very adorable Mediterranean with three bedrooms and a pool, about ten miles east of Santa Monica pier, I felt ready to crash.

He came from his room and handed me an oversized T-shirt.

“Thank you, Patricio. And I’m sorry about everything.” The situation had turned into a dramatic cluster f*ck.

He raised his hand to my cheek. “I would go to the ends of the earth for you, Lily. What’s a five-hour flight to Chicago and getting punched a few times?”

I smiled shallowly. “Thank you.”

He grinned, and I noticed him looking at my lips. I felt tired and heartbroken and would love nothing more than to be held, but it would be ridiculous to consider doing anything other than licking my wounds and sorting out my life. I had to send the right signal.

“Good night, Patricio. I’ll say goodbye before I leave in the morning.” I planned to get up, drive home, and…I didn’t know, really. I guess I’d open my shop and…

Sleep. You need sleep. Then you can figure it all out tomorrow.

“Good night.” He went his way, and I went into the bedroom and crashed the moment my head hit the pillow.



The next morning, I awoke to the strange sensation of someone watching me. Slowly, I opened my eyes and found a tiny, plump woman, with dark hair in a braid, staring down at me.

She smiled with a twinkle in her bright green eyes. “Leely!”

I sat up, wanting to ask who she was, but instead said, “Uhhhh…I’m going to throw up.”

I sprang from the bed and dashed the short distance to the bathroom down the hall. I barely made it. There wasn’t much in there, but my stomach didn’t seem to care.

The woman appeared with a cool washcloth and placed it on the back of my neck.

“I help you up,” she said with a thick Italian accent and grabbed my elbow.

Once to my feet, she guided me over to the sink and turned on the water so I could rinse my mouth and wash my face.

“Thank you.”

“It is nothing, Leely. We are like-a family now.”

My brain finally made the connection. “You’re Patricio’s mother.”

“Yes. And it is very nice to meet you.” She gave me a quick hug. “I will see you in the kitchen, si? I make the good strong breakfast for you.” She flexed her arm to show me the muscle-building powers of her cooking.

“Si. Thank you.”

She left me there to finish cleaning up, and when I got to the kitchen, Patricio’s mother was yelling at him, shaking her fist in his face. Two men, one older and one younger, who both looked very much like Patricio, sat at his kitchen table, sipping coffee and watching Patricio go at it with his mother.

I didn’t have the stomach for more fighting, so I slowly stepped back. Sadly, his mother noticed me.

“Leely! Come in. I make you the breakfast.”

“No. It’s okay. Really. I’m not hungry, and I need to get to Santa Barbara.”

“Can we talk for a moment, Lily?” Patricio asked.

“Sure.” I followed him into his bedroom, which was decorated in a strange ode to Hollywood style with black-and-white photos of old movie stars—James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Humphrey Bogart.

He closed the door and shook his head. “I am very sorry, Lily. I did not expect my mother so early today. We have plans to do sightseeing.”

“It’s okay, but I really have to go.”

“That is the thing. I told my mother this, and she got very upset that you are not with us today.”

I rolled my eyes. “Patricio, I’m sorry. Your mother seems like a very nice lady, but I’ve got to go.” And she was pretty dang low on my list of worries. Besides, I’d already figured out that the whole thing to get me to come and meet his family was more about him winning me back versus helping him out. Was his mother even sick? Who knew?

“You cannot, Lily. Now she knows you’re pregnant, and now she is more upset because I did not tell her, and we are not married.”

“Oh. My. God. Patricio, are you hearing yourself right now? I cannot have my life revolve around your lies.” It was ridiculous. “You either tell her right now that we broke up, or I will. Either way, you can’t have her believing we’re still a thing and that I’m pregnant with your child. That’s ridiculous, not to mention cruel.”