Page 74 of Happy Is On Hiatus
Desmond reached for her hand. For a few seconds she only stared at it. Then, slowly, she slid her hand into his, watching with this odd sense of comfort as his fingers entwined with hers. “Then I’d say you did all you could. Stop beating yourself up for something you had no control over.”
“But she’s my family. She’s been like a sister to me whenever I needed her.” It had pained her to even think about Rita repeatedly being hurt by Nate.
“And it sounds like you’ve been the same in return.”
She nodded at that. “We both have. Me and Jemel. We were all so happy this morning in Rita’s kitchen cooking all that food. How did it come to this?”
Releasing her hand as if he’d decided that wasn’t what he really wanted to do, Desmond turned to pull her into his arms. He held her tight, rubbing a hand down the back of her head while the other stayed firmly on her back. “It’s going to be all right,” he said. “You and Rita will work all this out. You’re family,” he said. “That’s what families do.”
Sharae had heard something similar to that before from the Aunts. But they’d never been in a situation like this. What if Rita never forgave her for not speaking up about Nate again? What if she was only doomed to heartache where the people she loved most were concerned?
She couldn’t think, could barely breathe, and on instinct jumped up from the couch. Folding her arms around her, she began to pace. So many scenes played over in her mind, and just as many emotions warred through her soul.
“Why are you even here? Why didn’t you just go home so I could think about all this without having to answer your questions too?” Her tone was abrasive, but so were her feelings. She loved Rita, but she was pissed at her right now. Why hadn’t she listened to her and Jemel all those years ago? Why’d she have to be so good and forgiving while her husband was such an ass?
“I’m here because I care about you, Sharae.” His response sounded so normal and sincere, it only irritated her more.
“But don’t you see, that doesn’t even make sense. You’re not supposed to care about me.” She walked toward the tiny dining table near the window, then turned back to head toward the couch again. “I was only supposed to be your client. You came to me and said sign thesepapers and sell these houses, get your father’s estate in order. And I did that.”
She’d spoken to the Realtor last week and had an appointment to go and visit the two houses in the city next week and the one in Ocean City two weeks from now. Both would be on the market by the end of the month, and once they were sold, she could move on from this estate mess.
“You did.” He didn’t have to be so agreeable.
She huffed. “I’m just sayin’, none of this makes sense. I’m used to handling my feelings and my grief and all my baggage on my own.”
“Even though you’ve had family who were more than willing to help you through it in any way they could.”
When she glanced at him this time, he had sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The look he gave her was one of understanding and empathy. She hated it.
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me,” she said quietly. “I don’t need pity.”
He waited a beat before standing and walking slowly toward her. It was so slow that she had more than enough time to move out of his path. To go into her room and slam the door shut in his face. Yet she stood there, waiting.
“I don’t feel sorry for you,” he said, and then his hands were on her shoulders. Holding her firmly as he gave her a gentle shake. “I feel like you may be the most obstinate and disillusioned woman I’ve ever met.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head. “No. Let me finish because you need to hear this whether you want to or not.”
Now he was getting out of hand. His tone and the way he was handling her left a lot to be desired. And who was he to tell her what she needed to hear?
“People mess up. Men, women, husbands, wives, even children—young and old,” he said. “They do things, and then realize that what they’ve done was a mistake. Sometimes they apologize, sometimes theydon’t get the chance. But what’s really important is that you recognize that it was their mistake and not yours.”
His gaze was so intent, his tone so adamant, his touch too real and too perfect, she had to look away.
“No,” he said and moved a hand from her shoulder to touch a finger to her chin. With the gentlest motion, he turned her face back to him. “Don’t run from this. You’ve done that for far too long.”
“You don’t know me,” she said in a tone so soft she barely realized she’d said it aloud.
“I know that you hate your father for messing up your family.”
“I hate him for killing my mother.”
He nodded. “And thus messing up your family.”
She sighed.
“He spoiled any hope you ever had of falling and staying in love. Then here comes Nate, showing his ass by not only hurting your cousin, but embarrassing the entire family with who he chose to get pregnant.”
“You’re making this about us, and it’s not.” She shook her head. “I’m worried about Rita and how we’re ever going to get back to what we were after this. It has nothing to do with what’s going on between us.”
