Page 192 of The Right Sign

Dare takes hold of my upper arms, ready to pull me into him. Ready to steer me away from Henry and firmly close this chapter of my life.

But I think of that moment when Henry and I first met, the day we promised to be best friends and take over the fashion world. All the nights in his apartment, receiving his encouragement and care after yet another designer passed on me. All the laughter we shared after small triumphs ballooned into tiny successes in our careers.

If he had feelings for me since the beginning, he kept it to himself. He’s never once made me feel uncomfortable, pressured or unsafe. In fact, I made it through those tough times being away from my family becausehebecame my family.

“I’ll go with him,” I sign.

Dare’s chin plummets. Confusion enters his eyes like a storm in the desert. I feel the way his body recoils. It’s like I shot him.

The moment of hurt is blinked away. Like a robot with a memory wipe, Dare’s face goes blank. He says something to Talia that makes the little girl scrunch her nose. He says something to mom next and then he’s stalking away with his niece.

A tormented, twisted feeling climbs my chest. I reach out to Dare, but he’s already turned away from me.

A hand touches my arm. I jerk around.

Henry.

“This way,” he signs.

I remain frozen, my head swiveling toward Dare. The sight of his broad back inspires a long wave of regret. His disappointment is smothering me. It feels like someone clawed my heart out of my chest and tacked it on a dartboard.

Mom waves to get my attention. “Where are you going?” she signs. “What’s going on? Why did Talia leave without her suitcases?”

Rather than answer, I seek Dare out again, but he’s gone. José is already speeding down the street and Dare’s bodyguards are tailing him.

Mine is still here though.

She dips her chin.

I nod back, blinking away tears.

What have I done? What have I done?

Henry’s shadow falls over me and the puff of his exhale is enough to lift my bangs.

“Thank you,” Henry signs.

“What am I doing?” I sign brokenly.

“You’re choosing yourself,” Henry signs. “You showed him that he doesn’t control you, that with all his money and power, you can still make your own decisions. You did the right thing.”

My chest rises and falls. I’m gasping for air.

And then mom is there.

She’s grabbing my face in her hands and rubbing my cheeks. Her smell of jasmine and chamomile tea is a life raft in the storm. I cling to her for all I’m worth.

When I’ve got myself back under control, she meets my eyes. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” mom says.

It doesn’t matter that she’s giving me permission to break down.

I can’t. I won’t.

It’s scary that the mere thought of losing Dare made my mind crack like a clay jar. What kind of sick, twisted addiction is this?

Later. I’ll deal with Dare later.

I already promised Henry. Since I started down this road, I might as well see this conversation through.

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