“Fiona, darling girl,” she says by way of greeting.
“Hey, Mom.” My voice wobbles, and my eyes smart.
“I was going to call to tell you I’ve booked a flight to see you.”
I clutch my phone. “No. Don’t do that. Please.” I suck in a breath. “It’s harder when I have to face you guys.”
Silence ticks for a beat. “Sean told me you gave him his walking orders. He was quite put out.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, Mom. I just couldn’t deal with…anything.”
“You don’t want to be coddled,” she says. “I understand. More than you know.”
An ugly memory stirs, of Mom taking to her room after dad’s numerous affairs became public. Which was kind of a joke because his cheating surprised absolutely no one, including her. But the public humiliation was too much.
“I don’t know how to get past this,” I tell her, my eyes welling up.
“You just do.” Her voice is soft, soothing. “Time goes on, and things get easier.”
“I tried to go out, but people looked at me…” My stomach clenches, remembering the way the delivery guy seemed to leer at my chest when I’d gone to pay for the carryout Ethan had ordered.
Ethan had stepped in a second later, gently putting me behind him and paying the guy. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to. It was obvious to the terrified delivery guy that he was a few seconds away from breathing out of a tube. He took his money and practically sprinted away.
It might feel good to have Ethan to stand over me like a protective bear, but he can’t be there all the time. And he can’t keep people from thinking what they want.
Some jackhole reporter pulled up pictures of me kissing Jaden—that silly stunt that feels like an eternity ago—and now they’re calling me a money chaser, the same type as the woman who made my mom cry and my dad stray. I shouldn’t care what strangers think. It’s a horrifying realization to know that I do.
Mom is talking again, drawing my attention back to the present. “Why don’t you come to London instead?”
“I don’t know…”
“No one here gives a fig about American football. You can relax. We can go Christmas shopping, have hot toddies, perhaps attend a musical.”
It sounds so perfectly lovely that I tear up again and sniffle. I miss my mom. I miss being a kid under her care, when the biggest worry I had was doing my homework on time and whether she’d let me have cookies after school.
Mom’s voice is coaxing, working over me like spun sugar. “Think about it, darling girl.”
I close my eyes and take a breath. “Okay.”
Chapter Forty-One
Dex
I find Fi in the kitchen. She isn’t drinking or eating or preparing anything. Which worries me. It isn’t like her to stand around, staring off at nothing.
Fi is light and love. Happiness and laughter. Even when she’s peaceful she has a radiance. But it’s gone now. She’s pale and quiet. Her hair has lost its shine, hanging limp around her pretty face.
I want to go to her, hold her close. But lately she flinches when I touch her. And it hurts too much for me to risk it right now. “Hey, Cherry.”
Fi blinks as if pulling out of a fog. “Hey. Were you working out?”
“No. Just sitting outside for a while.”
My naturally curious girl doesn’t ask why. Drew is right; I need to snap her out of this. Even if I have to haul her out over my shoulder.
“I was talking to Drew.”
She winces, her shoulders hunching in. “Let me guess, about me.”
“He wanted to see how you were doing. He cares about you, Fi.”
She shakes her head. “You know you’re fucked up when you’d rather no one cared.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“But I do,” she snaps, her eyes hard and cold. “I’d be perfectly happy if I never got asked how I’m doing again.”