the drug addict that I was eight years ago, Derek treated me like I’d never changed. He made me start to believe that this stain could never be wiped out of my life. Never removed.
When my mind started veering in the direction of breaking it all off with Jim, believing Derek was right that I could somehow ruin the man’s image and life if anyone dug up my past, I knew I needed to go home and regroup for the night. Addy was already asleep in the car anyway. It was eight o’clock, and we could just go to bed and head down to the beach early in the morning.
I wasn’t going to spiral, believing the master manipulator and his bullshit just yet. I wasn’t giving up on myself. I deserved better. I deserved to be with a man who loved me. I deserved to be with Jim, whether or not he was wealthy. Derek would never see past the wealth part, but I did. I didn’t fall in love with James H. Mitchell. I fell in love with the kindest, most loving man. A man who gave a damn about me: I fell in love with Jim.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Avery
I was up at three in the damn morning and wishing I was in Malibu. I’d let Derek get to me yesterday, but I woke up with one thing in mind: My life had reached an ultimate turning point, and I was moving forward with it. I was fearless and content to accept myself, my past, and the fact that history had helped me to learn from those mistakes so I could raise my daughter to be happy no matter what. So, I wasn’t going to let the demons of my past scare me from going after what I wanted. They’d never frightened me before, so why would I allow them to stop me from having what I wanted most now, which was Jim and happiness for Addy and me.
Jim didn’t hassle me about staying the night at my place. I could tell he’d reached the end of his day as well when I called him to let him know about Derek, and that I needed to head home to cool off. The fact that Addy was already asleep made it an easy decision anyway. If I’d have driven to Malibu, she would have ended up taking a nice, long car nap in time to play in the pool until midnight, and I wasn’t having that under the best of circumstances. We both agreed that if I were comfortable waking up early and taking Addy to watch the guys surf in the morning, it was just as convenient for us to stay at my place.
We were finally packed, in our swimsuits, and flying up the interstate to Malibu to meet up with the group. I was excited to do this. Even during my bad days, when I went surfing, I felt like I was truly living, being out in the ocean. Was I surfing this morning with the guys today? Hell no. I hadn’t been on the board in years, and I wasn’t in the mood to drink half the ocean and have the other half up in my sinuses. Today was a relax in the sun day, even though we were heading down so early.
I’d surfed Santa Cruz waters, but never this far south, so I didn’t know much about where the best spots were. When I talked to Jim this morning, I figured out that the guys were sacrificing their usual surf spots for Addy. They didn’t have to do that on her account, though. She loved jumping shallow waves and building sandcastles, and she probably could’ve done that at any beach, but it was a sweet gesture.
We followed the GPS and pulled in where a badass CJ7 Jeep was parked next to a classic 1970s Bronco. Both tops were off, and I could tell that the surfers were here. I smiled at the idea of how cool it would be to ride in either one of those restored vehicles. Next to those were two sleek sports cars.
Yep, this is the right beach.
Addy and I walked out past a nice restaurant that had an outdoor bar where you could drink, but still be safely and legally on the beach, protected by the restaurant's outdoor seating. Next were all the cabanas—we had definitely upgraded from our usual beaches. I glanced through the cabanas, guessing that if Jim and all his friends