the day he first noticed she had said breasts in the first place?
“I didn’t leave to marry him. We just left together.”
Dion nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home today? The last time you emailed me you said you were looking for another job.”
“I found one.”
“At Infinity? If you wanted to work there all you had to do was let me know. You’ve been so hell bent on being independent, making your own way in the world, I thought I was abiding by your wishes by leaving you alone in L.A.”
She smiled and it was like a sucker punch to his gut. It was taking an amazing amount of self-control for him not to get closer to her, to touch her, one more time.
“Since when have you abided by anybody’s wishes but your own, Mr. Donovan?”
“There’re a few people I’d go the extra mile for,” he answered trying to keep this reunion as light as possible.
Dinner had been trying. She was sitting so close to him, laughing, talking with that voice that he heard in his sleep too many nights to count. Now they were standing out here in a place where they’d had so many conversations before, talking about her upcoming wedding of all things.
“I had to come back. This is where it all began, after all,” she said, then turned to the side to look out at the water again. A boat filled with young party-goers passed by in the distance. Drinks were raised as the passengers waved like they knew Dion and Lyra personally. The waters along Key Biscayne were filled with cruise ships or yachts at all times of the day and night.
“You met him here that last summer when you interned at a small newspaper.” It was a statement, one that had stuck in his mind since she’d told him all those years ago. “Then you left to go to L.A. with him four months later.”
She nodded. “Then we broke up a year after that.”
“Because he wanted more than you did,” Dion added. Lyra had called him late one night needing to talk about the breakup. It had been uncomfortable for Dion, just as thinking about her with any man was. But Lyra was his closest friend and he was hers. No way was he going to let something as small as jealousy keep him from being there for her?
“He wanted it all, marriage, house, kids. I wasn’t ready for that.”
“But you are now?”
“We’ve been back together for two years now. I think I’m ready.”
“You think?”
She faced him again, looked up at him like she couldn’t believe he’d said that.
“I’m getting married, Dion. Do you have a problem with that?”
Did he? Hell yeah, he did. But it was his problem and nobody else’s. He’d wanted Lyra for so long, and yet beat himself up about wanting her that way. His mother would definitely not be pleased and the rest of his family would no doubt frown upon him looking at Lyra this way. They’d bash him for playing with her emotions, setting out to hurt her, since that’s what they assumed he did with all his female friends. They wouldn’t be happy about their seeing one another. Dion knew this, and that’s why he’d pushed her away ten years ago.
But if nothing else, he had to be honest with himself. He had a huge problem with Lyra marrying someone else when he wanted her all to himself.
“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” he lied as smoothly as the rays of moonlight shimmered on the water, as easily as he had said it the day he told her to leave for L.A. He lied to his best friend and miraculously found it hurt even more this time than it had before.
“Good,” she said with a weak smile. “Mark and I are looking for an apartment, but until then your mom wants me to stay here. I’m starting work tomorrow, so I guess I’ll see you at the office.”
She started to walk away like she was going to brush right past him when Dion reached out and grasped her by the elbow.
“I—” he started to say, then stopped.
“What?” she prompted.
He gritted his teeth and let the words dissipate from his mind. “I’m proud of you and all you’ve accomplished. You’re a great photographer and you’ve become a beautiful woman,” he said honestly.
Her smile was genuine, touching her brown eyes the way he remembered it did when they’d been laughing together as teenagers. “Thanks, Dion. That means a lot to me. Good night.”
“Good night,” he said reluctantly, letting her walk away. Again.
* * *
“Where am I supposed to live?” Paula Anderson asked with one bony arm propped on an even slimmer hip.
Lyra sighed, not wanting to go through this again. She didn’t need this aggravation on her first day of a new job. She was sick and tired of dealing with her mother’s selfishness and irresponsibility. Immediately, guilt washed over her and she closed her eyes, counted to five and then reopened them.
“You can get a job,” she said slowly. “I’ve given you all the money I can. I just moved across the country. Don’t you realize how expensive that is?”
“Girl, don’t give me that BS. And don’t forget I know who you really are. Now you might think you’re all high and mighty, out there foolin’ those rich folk, but you ain’t any better than I am.”
After years of hearing the same story, it was a wonder Lyra had any pride, or self-confidence for that matter. But she did, and she owed that to the upbringing of Janean Donovan.
“I don’t have any money.”
“You got money. I know they probably got an account set up for you and everything. That woman’s been so in love with my child for years. It’s a damn shame. Got kids of her own but still gotta go out and try to steal somebody else’s.”
“Well, if somebody else had been taking care of their child, maybe another woman wouldn’t have to.” Lyra’s reply was quick, her reflexes even quicker as she caught Paula’s long narrow fingers just as she tried to slap her across the cheek.
“I told you not to put your hands on me again,” she said with carefully tempered anger.
“And I told you not to forget who birthed you.”
They were locked in a stare-down, something that had happened too many times before. Paula wanted Lyra to bend to her will, to do whatever she said, whenever she said it. Lyra wanted Paula to get a damned clue. She was a grown woman and long over her mother’s drug-addicted ways and bitterness.
Sadly, none of that meant Lyra didn’t love her mother. After all, this was the woman who gave birth to her and for a little while the woman who’d taken care of her. Then one day everything just went totally wrong. They were kicked out of their small apartment with only the clothes on their backs, so Paula had to do what was necessary to make sure her baby ate, at least that’s the reason she gave Lyra for turning tricks in dark alleys while Lyra kept watch on the corner. But that was then. Over the years Lyra had become adept at leaving her past
