Page 95 of The Confidant

I feel a pang as I think of Poe outside this room with Racer. It feels like he’s on another planet. A clear separation that I instigated myself.

Asher is at the foot of the table with a clear view of the doors. He’s next to a petite brunette with wide, innocent eyes that sparkle and a distended belly. The two men seated on her other side are watching the subdued conversations around them cautiously.

Asher stood up as soon as I slipped through the doors, his icy scowl on point. I repress the sigh building up and glance around for a chair. The only one left is between Asher and Suzette.

“Addie… what?” He chokes up, the usual frosty attitude cracking as he takes me in.

“Oh my God! What did you do to your hair?” Suzette pipes up with a gasp.

I glance at her with a blank look. Their voices have drawn attention to me. Something that I don’t want. Part of me was convinced I could sneak in and stay quiet, unnoticed, until this farce ended. That part is now huddling in shame at being wrong.

Silence falls as Broussards turn to stare with wide eyes. The silent judgment on their faces somehow doesn’t hurt as much. I’ve removed myself so far from them emotionally that it has less impact. I’m a little scared that it can change in seconds. One good verbal barb would do it.

I stay quiet, not eagerly gushing about my hair or explaining why I’m late like I always used to do just to ease their tension. I’d rather let them sit there with their opinions of me unvoiced instead.

Suzette looks awkwardly around her at all the frozen people.

“It looks good,” she offers after a second. “Like a raccoon tail.”

“You decided that was your best outfit for seeing family?” Maman asks in a tight voice.

My tank top reveals my tattoos, she means. It likely doesn’t help that the raccoon on the front of it is holding a kitchen knife with the quote, “Try me,” on it.

I don’t bother looking at her or replying. I’m basically here under duress. I don’t want to interact any more than I have to. Let them stare at my hair. Let them make useless comments about me as if I’m scum. This will be the last conversation I have with any of them.

That knowledge cuts me inside, but I have to keep going.

Asher moves toward me, his arms starting to come up as if he wants to hug me.

My heart leaps in surprise before it falls again.

No way would he hug me. If I fling myself at him now, I’ll just embarrass myself and give everyone else more space to mock how close I used to think we were.

I slide into the seat as if I don’t see him standing there.

I get a moment to see bewildered hurt cross his face. For a second, I want to say I’m sorry. I don’t want him hurt, especially by me.

I swallow that down, too. He’s proven that he doesn’t care ifhehurtsme. I’ve had him silently reject my hugs for a lifetime.

I’m done sacrificing my happiness.

Asher clears his throat and retakes his seat, leaning toward me with a frown as if he’s ready to gossip. Suzette does the same on my other side. If I look up from the tabletop, I’m face to face with Asher’s Tera. And that baby bump I’ve been longing to see. I’m in defense mode instead of attack. I have to keep myself locked down tight, or I might start crying.

“Where have you been? Are you ok?” Asher asks in a tight voice. He’s still choked up, like before.

That concern would have been welcomed with open arms months ago. Now, it’s way too late to the game. It feels like some kind of platitude. An acknowledgement that I’ve hit hard times before they move on to a better subject.

“I’m fine,” I lie with a flat voice. I refuse to look away from the table.

Suzette tries to say something, but Maman interrupts her.

“You had Asher all wound up with your disappearing act.”

Here we go. They get what they want from me, and it’s still a problem. Figures.

“Maman,” Asher says in a warning tone with a frosty glare. It’s the same voice he uses to drive women away.

“What, baby?” Maman asks with raised brows. His sendingherthat look is new, and she doesn’t appreciate it. “She just wants attention. Look at her hair. The way she’s dressed. What more do you need?”

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