Page 51 of The Love You Fight For
I choke back another scream while I unzip my dress and let it fall to my feet. I kick it into the mess of glass shards and wine. Then, slowly, I walk through the mess in just my lingerie and my heels. When I reach the edge of my kitchen tile, I step out of my heels and leave them behind me. In my bedroom, I take off the horrible necklace, stashing it in my dresser drawer, then take my real phone out of my handbag and dial the building maintenance team. I makemy voice sharp and cold, just like the glass and wine now covering my floor.
“I require a clean-up in my kitchen. There’s been an accident involving glass.”
“Of course, Ms. Harper. We’ll send someone right up.”
“Tell them to get rid of the dress and shoes as well. They’ve been damaged.”
“Of course, Ms. Harper.”
I hang up without saying thank you and pull up my email app. I send a single email to my father and Ashton, excusing myself for the rest of the week. I tell them I have the flu and will be unreachable. Then I power my phone off and pack a bag.
I don’t get to Franklin until three in the morning. When I walk through the door of my dark cave above the now quiet bar, I allow myself to take one of my prescription sleeping pills, and then I pass out into a deep, dreamless sleep.
FOURTEEN
“They’re six,Chris. They aren’t going to appreciate your culinary degree.”
Michael’s laughing voice sounds from behind me, and I smile, but I don’t look toward him. I don’t bother reminding him thatno onereally appreciates the degree because I haven’t done shit with it. I don’t even know where the piece of paper is.
“Maybe not, but turning six is a big deal and I’m not half-assing this.”
I don’t look at him as I pipe little flowers out of icing onto half of the assortment of cupcakes. I already piped footballs onto the other half. I prefer cooking to baking, but I can make a mean fucking cupcake when the situation calls for it.
I can hear my dad laughing in the other room with my sister, and Luke and Lucy keep running in and out of the kitchen in their little matching birthday T-shirts, asking Michael how much longer until their party starts. There’s a bounce house in the yard, streamers strung from the ceiling, and balloons fucking everywhere. In thirty minutes, this house will be overrun with six-year-olds, and the twins are ready.
I finish piping icing on the last cupcake when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out and open a text from Macon.
Macon
Be there in five.
Heads-up. Len is bringing Harper.
My stomach jumps with excitement just before it falls to my feet. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen Sam, and the idea of seeing her today thrills me. But the reality of seeing her here, with my sister and father, sets my nerves churning.
“Fuck, I’m sorry in advance,” I mumble to Michael, and then I shout toward the living room. “Tiff. Dad. Can y’all come here a minute?”
My dad ambles into the kitchen, followed by my sister, and they join me at the counter.
“Oh, those look great, Chris,” my sister says. “Lucy is going to love those little footballs.”
“I know.” I grin. “And I did the daisies for Luke because he’s our little Ferdinand.”
My sister laughs and swipes a finger full of icing from the bowl. When shemmmms, I waggle my brows.
“The cake is even better,” I tell her, swatting her hand away when she reaches for a cupcake. “They’re for the children.”
“I am carrying a child,” she argues, gesturing to her pregnant stomach.
I shake my headnoanyway, and she rolls her eyes.
“Right, so, anyway, I have some news,” I say quickly, looking from my sister to my dad and then back. “And I need you guys to be on your best behavior and to remember that this is a birthday party, and that we,of all people, should understand that a child should not be punished for the crimes of their parents.”
“What would we punish the twins for?” Michael asks, obviously confused.
“Not them,” I say slowly, then I look at my sister and my dad. “Sam Harper is coming to the birthday party.”
My sister’s face goes from shocked to enraged at the drop of a hat.
