Page 92 of Entirely Yours
Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, eyes brimming with tears waiting for permission to spill. “And then you showed up. And I realized that some of the things from my past that I thought were mistakes—that peopletoldme were—didn’t have to be. They could be really beautiful accidents, instead.”
She rubs her stomach absentmindedly. I want to touch her. I want to hold her more than I want my next breath.
“I’ve been working so hard on loving myself. Trusting myself… and trusting you. Though, you’ve never given me a reason not to, there have been others who ruined it for you. I—” Now the tears fall. “I’m mad at them honestly, not you. But my brain is so mixed up. Then losing Chloe today. I will never,neverforget the feeling of sheer terror that took over me. And all I wanted was you there to help me.” She hiccups. “Then that pissed me off.”
She’s full-on sobbing now.
“Let me touch you, please.”
She holds up both hands to stop me. “No. No, I need to think. I can’t fucking think around you. I?—”
“Thea, please. I’m so sorry I hid the party from you. I will never forgive myself for making you doubt my feelings for you. It seemed—it doesn’t matter, I will spend as long as I need to regaining your trust. And with Chloe—I should have been there and I’m fucking sick over it.”
She shakes her head at me. “It’s not that. I know you’re sorry. Like I said earlier, I know you had good intentions. I just—my brain is scrambled, and I can feel four different stress knots forming in my back, and I just want to go home.”
I step toward her, and she takes a devastating step back. “Yes, of course,” I resign. “Let’s go home.”
“Actually.” She winces. “I’d like to go alone. Can you and Dad get Chloe back home?”
“Whatever you need, Thea.” I want her to need me.
Her feet carry her past me. I turn to the wall, banging my head against it a few times until a soft hand touches my arm. Keeping my forehead pressed to the wall, my eyes slide over to Thea. “Thank you,” she mouths, planting a quick kiss on my shoulder before she’s gone.
I spend the rest of the party mentally beating myself up over what I should have done. Replaying things I should have said. She warned me from day one that Roses were fickle, and right now I feel a bit like I overwatered or didn’t tend the soil or some other melancholy metaphor.
My suspicions are confirmed when I find Thea fast asleep in the guest bedroom later that night.
Fuck.
The feeling of someone playing with my hair draws me out of sleep. I love that feeling—one I haven’t experienced much since my grandma passed. It takes me a moment to realize it isn’t Chloe, and it can’t possibly be Grandmother.
“Good morning, my cabbage,” Elaine’s voice fully rouses me.
I roll toward where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed. “No offense—” My voice has morning grogginess coating every word. “But what are you doing here?”
Her giggle is comforting and warm. “I thought we could have a girls day.”
“A… girls day?” That sounds kind of nice.
Elaine hums in response.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I respond with a tentative, “Okay.”
“Great!” She claps her hands together, and I have a feeling she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Julien took Chloe to the park for Dadurday—well I guess technicallyit’s Sunday—but he made you coffee before he left.” She picks up the coffee mug that I hadn’t noticed was sitting on the bedside table.
I slept terribly in the guest room last night, and coffee sounds amazing right now. Elaine helps me into a seated position. “Take your time, I’ll be in the living room when you’re ready.”
The first sip of coffee warms me from the inside out. Yesterday was a disaster. I still feel sick when I think about Chloe wandering around the festival on her own. She was probably gone for less than ten minutes, but the trauma of those ten minutes will stick with me for the rest of my life.
Of course, Chloe seems unfazed.Kids.
Then there’s Jules. So many emotions were going rapid fire through my brain, I know I was unfair to him in response.
I enjoy my coffee—brewed to perfection, per usual—for a few more minutes before padding down the hall to the primary bathroom. I look as shitty as I feel. “Lovely,” I murmur, turning the faucet on so I can wash my face. The splash of water works alongside the coffee in waking me up and fortunately, or unfortunately, the morning is bringing clarity I needed. The man made me a fucking banner with our son’s name on it. A name he admitted needing to “simmer” on. And he hyphenated the last name with Rose first, something we had only touched on in passing, but he knew was important to me. I quickly finish getting ready and walk into the living room—a woman on a mission.
“I’m sorry, I need to go find Jules,” I tell a waiting Elaine.
She smiles up at me. “After girls day, dear.”
