Maddox leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead—soft, deliberate—and my heart does something embarrassing.
Then he glances toward his mother, checks her back is still turned, and dips his head to my ear.“Thank fuck you got rid of him.”
I nearly choke on a laugh?—
And then his lips brush slowly along my jaw, and I forget what laughing is.
Chapter28
Maddox
“Ifeel awful.I never should’ve said anything to her.”Mom cups her face in her hands, shaking her head.
The door opens behind us.
“Said what to who?”Katie drops her bag on the chair and unwraps her scarf.
Mom and I answer at the same time.“Grace.”
“Oh.”Katie’s face shifts into something between understanding and amusement.“I passed her outside.She said she’s going to Romeo’s.”She pats her stomach.“Now I want pizza.”
I laugh despite myself.“Yeah, I know.”
“You two.”Mom waves us off, moving to pull Katie into a hug.“We have food.Now come, sit.”
We eat first, the three of us falling into an easy rhythm.Mom refills our glasses without being asked, and Katie steals the last of the bread without apology.
But as the plates clear, Mom folds her hands on the table, and my sister quiets.They don’t look at each other, but they don’t have to.I’ve made them wait long enough.
“I wanted to tell you both about what happened with Erica.”
Katie’s eyes widen, and she slaps the table.“Finally?—”
Mom’s hand covers hers, and Katie presses her lips together as I stifle the urge to laugh.Thank goodness for my sister to lighten the mood.
Shaking my head, I rest my elbows on the table and tell them.Not all of it, just the important parts.They don’t need the ugliest parts, the stealing, the lies that compounded on themselves until I couldn’t recognize the person I’d agreed to marry.
They love Erica, and this isn’t about dismantling that.It’s about making sure the people who love me understand what happened, so that if Erica does find her way back to Winslow Grove, they’re not walking in blind.
When I finish, Mom reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers.
“Mads.”Her thumb moves in a slow arc across my knuckles the way it did when I was small and the world felt too large.“Thank you for telling us.”
“You shouldn’t have carried this alone.”Katie leans forward, her fingers brushing my other hand, her voice stripped of its usual snark.
“Katie’s right.”Mom dips her head until she catches my eyes.“And I know you probably don’t need to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyway.”She tightens her grip.“None of this is your fault.”
“Mom—”
She holds up one finger in a warning.The same one that used to stop me cold at twelve and apparently still works.
“You’re going to listen to me.”She straightens, her voice soft but immovable.“Like what happened to your father.That wasn’t on you either.Erica made her own choices.As much as we want to carry it for the people we love, we can’t.Only she can decide to get help.”
The mention of Dad slides in—the way it always does—somewhere behind my sternum, a dull pressure that doesn’t quite let up.I pull my hand back slowly and wrap it around my glass.
“I asked him to wait.”I don’t recognize how quiet and shaky my voice sounds.“Dad wanted help with the engine that morning, and he thought I’d be there.I had somewhere to be and blew him off.”I set the glass down.“He did it himself, and—” I stop, jaw tightening.“What happened is on me.”
Neither of them speaks, but Katie’s eyes fill, and Mom doesn’t look away from me.