“I don’t regret it, and neither should you. You always tell me that everything in life happens for a reason. I might not see it yet, but the reason is there.”
“Who taught you to be so smart?”
“Some old lady who claims to love me.”
She messes up my hair. “Hey, young lady.”
“Mom, I was talking about Grandma.”
“Get out of here, child, before I feed you to the fishes.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, you’re not in the mafia?”
“Tell Uncle Vito that.” She gives me a pointed look as I leave the room.
Making my way down to the atrium, for once I’m excited to do therapy. Not being able to dance the way I was trained has been getting into my head. Add in the anxiety from coming back here and, well, let’s just say I haven’t been the best patient.
I start with my stretches before walking over to the silks, running my hand down one. I have to admit, I’m learning to love the silks.
After doing my mandatory thirty-minute therapy session on my own, I grab my notebook and sit to do the second part of therapy.
Today is the first day since I have come home that it felt like home. The first time I was, no, am happy to be home. My anxiety still gets to me, but I’m learning to cope with it better. Tinsley asked me to go out with her again and this time I said yes. I know that this may blow up in my face, but for once, I’m letting myself live in the present. Screw the past and screw the future. Today I just want to be happy.
Smiling, I shut the notebook. I think Ronda will be happy with today's development. While my physical therapy is important to rebuild the strength in my ankle, I’m also working with a therapist on my mental well-being. So, on top of my aerial silks therapy, I have to journal my feelings each day. Then, when she comes twice a week, we discuss it.
At first, I didn’t want to do it. I was so used to bottling all my feelings up inside. My third week in, I blew a gasket. I poured all my feelings out into the world, and when I was done? I felt better.
That’s when I started doing my therapy.
After icing my ankle and finishing up my journal entry, I take a quick shower. While I’m toweling off, I get a message.
Ready when you are.
I smile at Tinsley’s text. Maybe I can be friends with her. Maybe Keaton doesn’t have to ruin this one part of life for me.
✽✽✽
Sitting in the driveway of Yates Manor is eerie. My mind hasn’t forgotten about the last time I was here. An involuntary shiver makes its way down my spine at the memory.
Shaking off the feeling, I give myself a mental pep talk before I make my way to the door. Knocking once, I turn around, looking over the front lawn. It hasn’t changed a bit.
When the door opens, I turn, smiling, expecting Boswell.
Instead, I come face-to-face with the man I’ve been avoiding.
“What are you doing here?”
Rolling my eyes, I put my hand on my hip. “I’m here to get Tinsley. Is she ready?”
He narrows his eyes. “What do you mean ‘get Tinsley’? She’s not going anywhere with you. Who knows if she would make it back?”
I let out a humorous laugh. “Whatever you say, Keat.” Pulling my phone out, I text her before locking my eyes on his. “I’ll wait in the car for her.”
Before I can turn to leave, he grabs my arm. Tingles dance under his touch as I turn back to him. He lets go, and I hate the way my body protests. It wants his touch while I want to get far away from there.
He runs his hands through his hair once. “Come in.”
He gestures for me to pass him, so I do. I don’t miss the way he doesn’t give me an inch, making my body slide along his.
I pause in the hall, taking it in. I smile as I see pictures of the siblings in varying ages lining the walls. Some are older that I’ve seen before, mixed with others that are newer, including one with a girl I don’t recognize hanging on Keaton’s back.
I tense as I see how happy they both look. I bite my lip, holding back the sudden pang in my chest.
You don’t care. You can’t care. Stop it.
“That’s Sage. Have you met her yet? Probably not, huh?”
Looking over my shoulder, I find Keaton looking nervous and unsure of himself. I haven’t seen him look like this in years.
What am I saying? I haven't really seen him in years at all.
“She’s pretty. You guys look happy.”
I wonder if she knows he’s a whore.
One thing I’ve learned since coming back here is that if you are looking for a good time, Keaton Yates is your guy. He doesn’t discriminate. As long as you are warm and willing, he will make you feel good for a night—sometimes two if you’re lucky.
“Yeah, she’s awesome. Tinsley loves her to death. I’m sure she will tell you all about her.”
I shrug, not really wanting to know all about the woman who has everything I don’t.
Stop thinking like that. You don’t want him, I remind myself.
“You’re here! Sorry. Sage was helping me with my makeup. I messed it up somehow.” Tinsley makes her way down the stairs, looking like a million bucks.
“No problem. You ready?” I want to escape this hell before this Sage chick comes down.
Moments later, I realize it’s too late.
The walking beauty queen look-alike makes her way down the stairs behind Tinsley, looking elegant and regal, even in her jeans and T-shirt.
I instantly hate her.
“Hey, I’m Sage. You must be Morgan. I’ve heard so much about you.”
I’ve heard nothing about you.
She reaches out to
