The Boy Who Has No Belief - Victoria Quinn Page 0,27
on me in a single day, that’s all. Last time we spoke, you were partying every weekend with women like Fleur, and now you’re in a very serious relationship with a woman who has a kid… It’s just a drastic change. I already like her, and not because she was cool, but because you love her—and that’s all that matters to me.”
I relaxed now that I had my brother’s approval, and that was when I realized how much his opinion meant to me, even though he was younger than me. It somehow meant more to me than the opinion of my parents.
He lowered his hands and grabbed his beer again. “Are we good?”
I nodded.
“Geez, take a chill pill.”
“You prescribe chill pills to your patients?” I countered.
“I wish I could sometimes.” He drank from his beer. “So, what’s she like?”
“The daughter?”
He nodded. “You guys get along?”
“I haven’t met her.”
Dex did a better job of hiding his reaction this time.
“Her name is Lizzie, and I’m going to start tutoring her. I wasn’t sure when I would feel comfortable meeting her, but Mom suggested helping her with math and science since she struggles with it. And since that’s something I’m good at, I agreed it was a good idea. Lizzie doesn’t know I’m seeing her mom.”
He nodded in agreement. “That’s smart. She’ll have no expectations at all. If she likes you, she’ll like you for you instead of liking you for her mom.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sure it’ll work out. There’s nothing to dislike about you, Derek, despite all the shit I talk.” He gave me a comforting smile before he took a drink.
“Thanks, man.” I slowly released the air from my lungs, letting the impending dread disappear. “I’m afraid I’m going to fuck it up and she’s going to hate me and I’ll lose Emerson.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“We both know I’m a bit…rough.”
“Even if you are, she’ll see past that to everything underneath.”
I stared down at the table as I pictured that first interaction and what the hell I would say to a preteen. “Enough about me. What about you?”
“I’m running around doing all the shit I’ve done my entire adult life. I don’t have an Emerson.” His beer was getting low, so he swirled the bottle and watched the contents whip around. “Most of my mentors tell me not to get married. You’ll just get divorced, and she’ll take half your earnings forever.”
“That’s some bleak advice.”
“That’s real life, right? One of my mentors is a cardiologist here in the city, banking ten million dollars a year. After he got divorced, with alimony and child support, he’s keeping less than half of his paycheck…his own paycheck.”
“Not all marriages end in divorce, Dex.”
“Half do. Dad told me a bit about his first marriage…”
“And look at his second marriage. Valerie wasn’t the right person. Mom is. So, find the right person, and you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“But when you’re rich, it’s hard to know if a woman really wants you for you or your wallet.”
“I have Emerson, and she doesn’t want me for my money.”
“Then you’re a lucky bastard, Derek.” He pointed at me. “Hold on to her.”
“I just don’t want you to make decisions for yourself based on other people’s experiences. That’s all.”
He lifted his empty bottle and got the waitress’s attention. She brought over two more bottles and set them in front of us before she walked away. “Noted.” Based on his attitude, he already had his mind made up. But he was young, and maybe in time, he would feel differently.
I decided to mention something I never talked about—ever. “You know, after the whole thing with Tabitha, not only did I not want to get married, but I didn’t want to have a relationship either. I did that for ten years, one meaningless experience after another meaningless experience. I became bulletproof. Never got hurt again. But you know what? I never felt anything either.” I twisted off the cap and took a drink. “And then Emerson happened, and I started to feel again. I started to feel happy, alive.”
Dex didn’t give me an incredulous look or make fun of me. “That’s beautiful, man.”
“So, Tabitha was the wrong person. That’s all.”
He nodded. “Definitely.”
I didn’t want to continue a conversation so heavy, so I switched gears. “How’s residency?”
“Good.” He twisted off his cap. “I feel like I never sleep, I’m the doctor’s bitch, and I had to get those gel insoles in my shoes like an old man.”