“Maybe Naomi should come here with Aito while you try a weekend with your boys?” I wiggle my eyebrows just to make him jealous. I would never pull the move on his girl, and she knows it, but fucking with Lars’ insecurities is what I love doing the most.
“No fucking way,” he laughs. “We come together so I can enjoy your blue-hair girl drooling all over the rock star that I am. She seemed to like what she saw when we talked the first time.”
“Asshole,” I laugh. They both quiet down. I focus on them to see them exchange a knowing look only couples madly in love can understand.
A pang of jealousy touches my heart.
Not because I want it with Naomi, but because I want that again. Just looking into someone’s eyes and sharing a thought.
“What?” I ask barely tolerating being the third wheel of the parenting dynamic we are.
“It’s really good to hear you laugh, that’s it.” Naomi smiles. Never saying what she feels but letting me get a glimpse of her emotions from time to time.
“And we’ll be there, without your sister and her husband, in a few days. I just need to talk to Crawford to be sure, everything is alright with Sweet and we’ll come down.” Lars salutes me with two fingers and disappears from the screen.
“Is he okay?” I ask Naomi.
She shrugs. “Art Sweet is an asshole. Seems he’s just realizing so. He was never on the receiving end like Anna. Even if I shouldn’t be too harsh on him knowing how he helped me when Lars and I weren’t talking. Things haven’t been easy between the three devils. That’s it. They’ve been committed to each other for more than twenty-five years. It’ll pass.” She says with the same indifference she sparkles on everything.
“I need to talk to Crawford too. He might be able to help me with the job I’m doing. Mark really didn’t need me to come here, but I understand why he wanted me to. It was time.” Naomi gives me one of her little smiles. The one that means more than what she lets you see.
“It was time,” she nods. “And it’s time to stop pretending, Ol. We’ve all enabled you for long enough. We thought you needed time but we were wrong. So I won’t anymore. I did as a favor to your sister, but she even realizes how wrong she was. I’m done answering the phone every time you need reassurance, I’m done letting you use Aito to calm your anxiety and I’m done closing my eyes when you need to check if you gave me the PJs you believe is vital for his well being. I love you but I need you to focus on the right things and to stop making your life, and ours, more difficult than it should be. And before you grumble something about Lars, know that if I listened to him, we would be enabling you for far longer than I can take. You know me… You knew it was coming.”
Closing my eyes, I sigh before nodding.
I’m surprised she didn’t call me out on my shit before.
Fuck.
I was such a dumbass thinking I was fooling everyone when in fact they were the one fooling me and entertaining my madness.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know why I’m apologizing but it feels like it’s something I should do.
“There is nothing to apologize for, Ol. But it’s time. I’ll see you in a few days. Say bye to daddy.” She waves Aito’s little hand and I smile, my heart a little heavy and needing to find peace against the myriad of thoughts popping from left and right.
What else do they know?
Hanging up, I dive back into work, trying to ignore the voice telling me that even in my grief, I wasn’t good enough to keep the truth from showing, that even in hiding my feelings, I was still bleeding my pain and they all let me hide out of love, thinking that what I needed was time.
But time has nothing to do with grief, only wanting to move on can heal you. And I’m finally ready to.
Chapter Nineteen
TESSA
I grin reading the text Oliver sent me.
Oliver: See you tonight, Blue-hair. Can’t wait.
I never thought a few words would make me so giddy, but seeing his name on my screen makes me as dizzy as a teenage-virgin finding her clit for the first time.
“You look happy,” my mother says with a hint of curiosity in her voice. I lift my eyes from my screen to find her studying me, her hips leaning against the bar and her short but perfectly manicured nails tapping on her forearms. My mother is the perfect wife you need by your side to advance your career.
Dinner parties, interior decoration, smiles and light conversation are her forte.
You can throw anything at her, and you wouldn’t even see her chin tremble in public.
She doesn’t tremble much in private either.
“Just something Ashton sent me.” Trying to stop the interrogation I feel coming, I walk away from her and get a glass from the cupboard to fill it with tap water.
“I think it’s the therapy,” she says, coming closer to me. She takes the glass of water from my hand, opens the fridge and fills it with the cucumber water she swears by. According to her, if she still looks so young at her age—which has to be determined, no one knows anymore— it’s because of her flavored waters. Staying hydrated is half the battle, she likes to say to whomever wants to hear it.
I hate vegetables in my drink but it doesn’t matter.
Who I am and what I want never really counted for my mother as long as I followed the plan Andre and her led for me to take since they gave me the opportunity to become an engineer.
I always fulfilled
