The flood of words that I poured out tonight had somehow empowered me. Months of silence landed me in a parched emotional desert, and loosening my truths into the world had quenched my thirsty soul. I’m no longer the frightened little girl who will do anything to survive—the bottomless pit of wanting that no American Express card could ever fill. I’m born anew. And I’m satiated just being me. I’m no longer shamed by the lies that clung to me like excrement. I’m not a victim. I’m a victor. Tonight wasn’t about taking revenge. It was about taking my life back.
Once the meeting is over, the crowd disperses, and Scarlett wraps me in a strong embrace.
“I love you.” She pulls back, her eyes sparkling like sea glass. “That’s a strange thing to hear from a friend, I know. But I just need you to know that.”
“No, it’s perfect. I feel the exact same way.”
Jet makes his way over and lands a soft kiss to my cheek, his warm hands pressed to my back. “You did great. I have a little surprise for you. I hope you won’t be too upset.”
“What?” I lean back. My eyes snag on a familiar older couple standing behind him, and I gasp. “Mom, Dad?”
Mom shakes her head as if denying her own presence. “Can you forgive us?”
Dad pulls me into a warm embrace without waiting for a response. “We’re not perfect. We just wanted what was best for you so bad. I’m sorry we hurt you.”
My heart detonates against my chest a few good times, and I’m half-afraid I might pass out. I never expected to see my parents here at Whitney Briggs, and, now that I do, they look markedly out of place. My body goes numb with shock, and for a moment, I wonder if I’m dreaming. “You’re really here for me?”
“Yes.” Mom takes ahold of my hands. For the first time, I see the soft folds around her eyes, ageing her just enough, and my heart breaks for this older version of my mother. My mother had always called me her girl. We enjoyed clandestine shopping trips and lunch dates that my father would never have financially approved of. Up until junior high, she was my partner in crime. Somewhere around high school, I traded her in for boys and a nasty circle of friends. I wish I never did. I miss my mother. That’s when everything went wrong, and the disapproval set in on their end. “Jet said this would be important, and he was right,” she continues. “We should have believed you from the beginning. I’m disgusted that I ever thought otherwise.”
“It’s okay. It was easy to think otherwise. I get it.”
We head outside into the perfumed night air and talk about life and classes and my prospects for grad school before we finally say goodnight. I watch as they disappear into the night and wonder if any of that was real.
“Your parents are pretty amazing.” Scarlett blushes because that’s basically what her Irish genes have programmed her to do. “I’d better get going. Rex is meeting me at the library.” She starts to take off. “Oh, and I totally think you should move into the dorm again. You take back what’s yours, girl!” she bubbles with a laugh as she blends in with the night shadows.
“Maybe I will.” I shrug before turning to Jet and that growing look of disappointment.
“You’re welcome to stay with me for as long as you like.” His dark hair, those steely eyes make me want to graft myself to his body.
“Thank you.” I wrap my arms around him. “But I think Scarlett is right. I need to firmly take back my life.”
His brows knit together in a silent fit of opposition. “How about you do both?”
A warm laugh bubbles in me. “I like both. School days at WB and weekends playing musical beds at your place?”
“I was thinking we could have a study group in the living room, but if you want to be a pervert, that’s fine by me.”
“It takes one to know one.” My hands slide up his shirt, and I smooth my palms over the contours of his abs until his lids flutter and a deep hard-won groan comes from him. “Just so you know, my weekends start on Friday.”
“They start on Thursday afternoon from now on.” Jet moans as he presses his lips just under my ear. “But as for tonight, please come home.”
“Home. I do like the sound of that.” I pull back, clasping my palms over his cheeks. “You feel like home.”
“I am your home.”
Jet
Friday night, Daisy and I bundle up and head out to the big game, a home game at Whitney Briggs. Rex kills it. There is not a move that boy can’t make on the field that isn’t the right one. I’ve always admired that about Rex. As much as I’ve teased him about being “golden,” I’ve meant it. And right now, with Daisy tucked safe in my arms, I’m feeling pretty golden, too.
After a landslide victory, we head over to the Black Bear. The 12 Deadly Sins rage up on stage as bodies pour into the bar as if it were a safe haven, and it is from the icy weather.
Daisy nods toward the bar. “There’s Lucky.”
And indeed, there my baby sister stands, looking every bit like a grown woman—one wearing far too little clothing and looking far too beautiful for me to ever feel safe.
“I don’t think I can do it,” I whisper deep into Daisy’s ear, soaking in her sugary scent, just breathing the woman I love. Last week, she suggested I cut the apron strings, so to speak, when it comes to my sister. I told her I’d try, and she insisted I let Lucky in on this, promising me that it would only strengthen our bond, not break it.
“I get it. I have big brothers.” Daisy twists in my arms, swaying her hips to the music. Before I know it, I’m doing the same. If you would have told me a year ago I’d be dancing in the middle of the Black Bear, I would have laughed and then probably shot you. But this woman, right here, can get me to do just about anything—including something I swore I would never do with Lucky, let go.
