Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
And my mother…whose pain—whose very fate—I was ultimately responsible for.
I couldn’t fix my mother’s pain. I was only a child.
But I’m no longer a child, and I want very badly to fix Skye’s pain.
I drop down next to her and touch her cheek. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s ruined. Dinner is ruined.”
“What happened?”
“Instead of turning the burner off, I turned it to high. Much longer and it would have scorched the bottom, and your whole penthouse would smell like burned étouffée.”
I caress her hair. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. Not even slightly. It was delicious, Braden. The best étouffée I ever made, and I ruined it.”
“I’ll take you out. Wherever you want to go.”
“Nowhere. I don’t want to go anywhere. This day can just go to hell.”
“Surely you can’t be this upset over a burned dish.”
“I am.”
“Skye… Don’t lie to me.”
She erupts then, like Mount St. Helens. Tears and gasps and words.
“Braden, I’m the worst. The worst ever.”
I stroke her hair. “Baby, you’re not.”
“She could hardly look at me, Braden.”
“Who?”
“Tessa. And then she said Betsy feels terrible.”
“Why?”
“For spilling the beans about you and Addison.”
I force my body not the tense up. Skye needs me in this moment. Anger over ancient history will get us nowhere.
“Then she didn’t want to go for coffee after yoga, and we always go for coffee.”
“Maybe she had other plans.”
Skye sniffles. “She didn’t. And I ended up talking her into it. She said she misses me, and I miss her, too, Braden. She’s still upset that I didn’t call her to cancel our shopping date last Sunday, and she’s right. I should have.”
“Baby, I dragged you to New York in the middle of the night. You were jet-lagged.”
“I know.” She gulps. “But still… She thinks I’m leaving her behind. But I’m not. I swear I’m not.”
“I know you’re not.”
“I felt so bad that I lied about Kathy. I told Tess Kathy was just using me, which I thought she was at first. But she’s not. She’s simply looking for a friend. And what’s wrong with having another friend?”
“Nothing, Skye.”
“But none of it helped anyway. Tessa thinks we need to break up.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “Break up?”
“Yeah, it’s totally stupid, I know. But she says she’s more comfortable with Betsy right now. That they’re on the same level. And then—” Skye heaves out a racking sob.
I hold her. Run my hands up and down her back. Let her sob, until—
“And then what, Skye?”
“She mentioned that I was supposed to call her after my meeting with Eugenie, and I didn’t. And she’s right, Braden. I told her I would, and I forgot about her. I’m just the worst!”
“Baby…”
She pulls away from me then. Gulps down one more sob. “Then I had to do my first post for Susie Girl, and I screwed it up, Braden. It was so half-assed.”
I don’t say anything, but she’s right. I felt that way when I saw it.
“So I think coming here, fixing dinner for you. Maybe that’ll make me feel better. And it did for a hot second. I snapped a bunch of photos to post, and now I can’t post any of them because the dinner is ruined.”
“You can still post them, Skye. No one else has to know the dinner is ruined.”
“No!” She pulls at her hair. “I won’t be a fake like Addie is. I just won’t. Except I already am. I don’t know who I am anymore. Am I Tessa’s best friend? Am I the face of Susie Girl? I’m certainly not a cook. Am I the woman who feels most like herself with you at the club? Or am I just a huge fucking fraud? Who the hell am I?”
I open my mouth to answer, but—
“Please,” she says. “Just don’t. You don’t know who I am any more than I do. You don’t even know yourself. For God’s sake, you’re bothered that you’re not bothered that I showed up uninvited tonight. What the fuck, Braden?”
More tears roll down her cheeks.
I sit down next to her, pull her into my arms so she’s sobbing into my shoulder, kiss the top of her head, and say, “It’s okay, baby. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Time passes in some kind of a warp. I have no idea how long we sit there, but eventually her sobs soften, and she’s breathing more regularly.
She’s wrong about one thing. I do know her. I know exactly who she is, and I understand what’s aching inside her.
Her life is changing. She’s changing.
And I’ve been there.
More than she knows.
She’s experiencing growing pains, and God, I remember how truly painful they are. They’re necessary—a necessary evil—and I know rationally that I can’t protect her from them.
But something inside me breaks.
I can’t let her go through this. I can’t let her feel the pain that almost broke me years ago. I will stop it. I will do anything to stop it.