Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Gretchen tries not to smile. “I’m following you. Keep going.”
“Banks, Maddox’s brother—whom I’m also assuming you know at this point since he’s family now for you—which I just realized and that makes this a little weird but, really, Gretchen, I have nowhere else to go with this.” I groan. “My life is one big convoluted mess.”
“You can still talk a hundred miles a minute when you’re stressed.”
“Yay me.”
She blows out a breath. “Ashley told me that Sabrina came by Banks’s today.”
My soul shrivels. Of course, Ashley knows. Of course, she told her mother. They’re all probably talking about the circus my life brought to their happy little street and are breathing a sigh of relief that Banks dodged a bullet.
“I love you, Sara.”
If I had any tears left, I’d cry.
“I had to tell my daughter this a while back,” Gretchen says. “Right now, you’re blaming yourself for what happened today, aren’t you?”
“Well … yeah. I guess I am. I guess I feel like I infected them with my bullshit somehow—or I will infect them if I stick around.” I sigh. “But it’s even more than that, Gretchen. I can’t help my sister. She’s with that godforsaken woman, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Do you think she’s safe?”
“Physically? Yes. Emotionally? No. Probably not. But she did manage to keep her phone and texted me a little bit ago. She said she was okay and would talk to a school counselor tomorrow.”
That’s the only reason I haven’t lost my mind tonight.
Gretchen leans forward and rests a hand on my knee. “She reminds me of another little girl I used to know.”
My heart aches. “I think I was stronger back then.”
“It never feels like we’re at our strongest in the moment we need to feel that way, does it?”
“No.”
I stand, my skin too tight, and walk aimlessly around the room. None of this feels real, even though it’s absolutely par for the course of my life. Just a few hours ago, I was blissfully happy. I had a new job lined up, Banks was coming home, I felt like everything was finally on one side of me.
And now … I’m drowning. Adrift. Cast away … although that’s on me this time.
How quickly things change.
“So what’s going on with Banks?” Gretchen asks.
I exhale harshly. My head is foggy like it’s stuffed full of cotton.
“Honestly? I don’t know.” I shrug sadly. “He’s so sweet and kind, Gretch. He wants to …” A lump settles in my throat. “Love me, I think.”
“Ah. I see.”
“What does that mean?”
She scoots to the edge of her seat. “Sweetheart, I’m going to be really honest with you right now. Okay?”
I nod warily.
“Sara, you don’t know how to accept love.”
What? I face her, my brows pulled tight. “That’s ridiculous.”
She smiles softly. “No, it’s not. That crime is on your father’s soul because he should’ve been there for you. You should have felt loved, protected. Cherished. I did the best I could, and loved you like my own, but he should’ve done all of that and more.”
I march across the room and gather her in my arms.
“Oh, Sara,” she says, patting my back. “I love you so much, sweet girl.”
I remember all the times Gretchen has hugged me like this. That she’s made me dinner. Chased me down when I snuck out and hauled my ass back home. Because she loves me.
How many times has Becca offered to pay for dinner—because she loves me—and I haven’t let her?
How often has Ashley offered to listen to my problems—because she loves me—and I’ve waved her off?
And Banks … he’s only been in my life a short time, but I’ve known about him for much longer. Already, he’s “fixed” my car, walked alongside me as a fake fiancé, defended me … twice … tried to protect my little sister, made me his own frozen pizza—because he loves me—and I find a reason to hide.
He sees me. He tries to show me my worth. He makes me feel cherished and loved and protected—all the things a man should … that no one has ever done before.
It’s as if my heart is delivering a message to my brain.
Maybe Gretchen’s right. Maybe I don’t know how to accept love.
I pull away, watching as she wipes the moisture from beneath her eyes.
“I love you, Gretchen.”
Two I love yous in one day? What’s happening here?
“I’m going to circle back to what I was saying before. You’re blaming yourself for a lot of things. It’s your fault that Sabrina came to your house and acted like a fool. It’s your fault that Bethany is unhappy and trapped there. It’s your fault that the Carmichaels saw a nasty woman berate a lovely woman and a little girl. It’s your fault that things with Banks must end.”
“Your point?”
“Sara, putting all that on your shoulders isn’t giving you any more power over these situations. It’s eroding your mental health—maybe your physical health too. But you don’t get extra control powers if you take the blame for things that aren’t your fault.”