Page 168 of Delicate Storm

“Now? Today?” My jaw drops because,fuck, this is going to shatter her. Just like she always feared, he’s leaving when she needs him the most. “With all due respect, D’Angelo,”—I use his last name like he did mine—“your timingfuckingsucks. She needs you here. How do you think she’s going to feel when she finds out you’re gone?”

“She doesn’t need me anymore. She needsyou. And I’m trusting you to protect her. She’s going to make it hard for you but—”

“At least I’m going to try.”Unlike you.

“Don’t fuckingtry, Wilder,” he snaps and my anger simmers. “Get it done. She doesn’t give her heart away often. Actually,ever. But you’re holding it in your goddamn hands, and I need you to look after it. No matter what she says, she’s wrong. Walking away from you is not going to solve anything. It’s likely to destroy her.”

My rage dissipates as Paige’s words run through my head.“They won’t end until they destroy me.”How the fuck do I fix things when she’s likely to be destroyed either way?

“I’ve got to go.”

“Good. Go find Paige. We’ll have a better chat when I get back.” He smiles but it’s clearly forced, and I don’t know if that’s because he doesn’t trust me or he’s worried about Paige. Either way, I can’t dwell on it. I have to find her. I can’t let her go.

When I get in my truck, I bang my hands against the steering wheel before turning the ignition.What’s the right move here?Paige needs me. Isaac needs me. Mom needs me. I’m getting pulled in every direction, but there’s only so much I can do.

But if I really think about it, Mom’s okay, and if Paige is putting Isaac first instead of herself, and her dad’s gone, who the hell is looking out for her?

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Paige

Mom and I share a Thanksgiving breakfast at the restaurant in my building, and then she’s hugging me goodbye. All too soon.

I want to argue. I want to beg her to stay, but she told me this was a fly-by visit. I knew. Her leaving didn’t come as a surprise. She never usually strays far from New York, so I should be grateful she came at all.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” She squeezes my hand and motions toward the door. “I’m not saying you should run away, but if you need to disappear for a few weeks, you're always welcome home.”

“I am home. This is my home. I just have no idea what I’m doing at the moment.” My voice wavers and Mom squeezes my hand again, pulling me back into a hug. I may have made a mess of things with Isaac and Easton, but I still can’t bring myself to leave. I need to be close to them. Just the thought of going away has me anxious and struggling for air.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper against Mom’s shoulder before shaking myself off and stepping back.

“I’m going to come back.” She grabs my arms, determination set in her gaze. “Next week, I’ll come back. I just have to go home today. It’s important.”

“I get it, it’s fine. You don’t have to come back. I’m a D’Angelo and a Bianci. I can handle anything.” I smile but it doesn’t transfer to Mom. She sees through my attempt to be brave.

“We’re not all strong. Trust me. Don’t forget I fell apart when your dad left.”

“Well, I got the strong parts of both of you. I’ve got this.”

“Paige—”

“No, Mom. You better go. You have a flight to catch.”

Mom opens her mouth to speak again, but I turn away and collect her bags. All three of them for one night. If it was anyone else, I’d assume she was staying longer, but this is minimal for Mom.

“I’ll call you when I get home. And tomorrow.”

“I’m fine.” I laugh to hide the sharp pain in my chest. “Go. Before you get stuck here.”

Mom frowns and I can tell she has more to say, but she knows me well enough to stay quiet. So, without another word, she presses a kiss to my head, then she’s gone.

Leaving me alone.

And I crumble.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I pick myself up and stare at my tear-soaked face in the mirror. What am I doing? I need to pull myself together. This is on me. I can’t wallow. I need to do something to get out of my head.

After changing into workout gear, I wash my face and reapply my minimal makeup even though I plan to get sweaty, hoping to convince myself that if I look put together, I might actually feel it.

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