Chapter 97 Learning to Breathe Between Dreams
POV Maya:
“Tay, I’m not understanding your analogy.”
“There are people who feel complete with more than one person at the same time. They complete each other in a way that becomes perfect.”
Her eyes grow sad for a few seconds; however, she smiles as she looks at me. “I’ve felt complete before. I felt that together we were perfect, but I couldn’t continue that madness. It was wrong. For many people, what I did was wrong. I thought I would never feel complete again, but then I reconnected with someone from my past, and together we were perfect too.
“Tay, what kind of tea is this?” I straighten my posture, wanting to understand her story better.
“It was a long time ago. It’s not even worth telling,” she shrugs. “It wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
“You could have tried. Life is made of attempts.”
“You’re right. I could have tried, but I wouldn’t have endured the accusations. I wouldn’t have endured the disgust.” She sighs, and her nostalgic look makes me want to know more about her story. “People can be very cruel, Maya. And they didn’t deserve that. I wouldn’t accept people being cruel to them.”
“Them?” I ask, surprised.
“Yes, them.” She stands up and walks away. “Now it’s time to change the subject. We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.” I nod. I wouldn’t force my friend to tell her story—at least not now. “Maya, you need to live one day at a time. The right person will show up when you least expect it.”
I’m going to trust my friend’s words, because I’m not going to meet the man of my life overnight, much less marry him right away. I need to renounce my dream of having a family for now. I need to focus on other areas of my life that I’ve neglected.
Everything has its time… I just need to accept mine.
Five months later
I am destroyed, exhausted, disheveled, sweaty down to the crack of my ass. I throw myself onto the couch with my eyes closed. I need at least five minutes of rest before taking a shower, getting ready, and going to Taylor’s house.
I shouldn’t have been crazy enough to go shopping on Christmas Eve, but my new job has demanded a lot from me these past months. Opening a flower shop, making a name for myself in the market, took a lot out of me—not to mention all the flower arrangements I stayed up late assembling over the last few days.
Still, I’m happy. I’m fulfilled. Getting to where I am by my own merit makes me burst with pride. I didn’t use a single dollar from my millionaire account to open La Belle, and I never would. Touching that money would be proving to my parents that my being born was a purchase, something they paid for at the end of the acquisition, and that I was nothing but a fucking commodity.
Since they left, they haven’t tried to contact me once—not on any Christmas, not even on any of my birthdays. In the first two years, I waited. I stayed glued to the phone, believing they would call me. But they never did. They never cared. It was hard, but I got over it, just like I’ve gotten over everything difficult in my life. I’m not just a pretty face who got everything handed to her. I fought to deserve everything I have, and I’ll fight even harder to get everything I haven’t achieved yet.
Louis Vuitton, my beloved mutt, jumps onto the couch asking for affection, and I would never deny my baby anything—especially when he shows up to push away the melancholy that hits me whenever I think too much about my parents. Excited, I grab one of the shopping bags and open the little box holding his Christmas present. His eyes light up instantly. I know my son very well; I know he’s just as opportunistic as I am. I can’t judge him for that.
Louis was a gift from Tay. My dear friend was volunteering at an NGO that rescues animals from the streets and gives them homes, and she told me that the moment she laid eyes on Louis, she knew he needed a mother like me. At the time, I didn’t understand it, but today I do. When I looked into Louis’s chocolate-colored eyes, I knew it—he didn’t want to be alone anymore, just like me.
“Louis, look what mommy bought for us to go to Auntie Tay’s house.” I pick up the little Santa’s helper costume and hold it in front of his snout. The little bastard sniffs it, and after confirming it’s a brand-name item, he wags his tail in approval. “Yes, you opportunistic little thing. I knew you’d love it.”
I put him on the floor and run to take my shower. I need to get ready, or Taylor will call me for the tenth time, and I don’t want to stress her out more than she already is. Since it’s the first Christmas dinner she’s hosting at her house, my friend is a bundle of nerves and… well, my friend looks like a psychotic lunatic at the moment, and the last thing I want is to be in her way.
God help me.
As soon as Taylor opens the door, I hand my baby over to her and rush back to the car to grab the presents. Ever since my friend came out about her polyamorous relationship and decided to move in with her boyfriends, I’ve had to accept them with an open heart. They’re amazing guys—when they’re not chewing my ear off or teasing me for being sexually dry for months, something I have to overlook, after all, I love my friend and need to make a little effort to tolerate her gossipy boyfriends.
When I come back in, the living room is packed with testosterone. I take a deep breath, searching for calm within myself—something I’ve never found, which probably doesn’t even exist, but I keep looking anyway. Hunter is the first to spot me. His idiotic grin appears right after he whistles to get the attention of his brothers, Sean and Gavin. The latter is holding Louis in his arms. They barely hide their excitement over the fact that I agreed to let them play matchmakers for me.
A terrible and irreversible decision, unfortunately.