Even if he hadn’t seen me make Emma cry.
Yep. Still feel like an absolute asshole for that.
I don’t know if he remembers. I don’t know how long toddler memories are. I’ll have to look that up.
But I’ll remember.
I hold a flashlight to study the side of the tub where it looks like chickens pecked through the wall and into an electrical cord of some kind. “If I can’t fix it, I’ll replace it.”
“Have you ever fixed a thing in your life?”
“I’ve played a mechanicfour times.”
He doesn’t reply.
Likely because we both know what he’d say if he did.I’ve seen the reviews on those movies, and a high number pointed out you can’t change those kinds of cars’ oil from the top of the engine.
In my defense, two of those roles were asmechanic in training. When I was playing teenagers. And before I figured out how much I loved researching the quirks of the roles I took.
“Ready to learn new things,” I mutter.
“Like how to take Mom’s phone calls for yourself?”
“I’ve texted her.”
“She’s getting concerned. And Begonia’s getting closer to her due date.”
I know what he’s saying.
I have to face my mother sooner or later. Lay out for her what I will and won’t tolerate with the whole family being let in on the news about Bash.
And Emma.
Beforemy sister-in-law goes into labor if I want her and Hayes around for support when Mom finally figures out where I am and arrives.
Our mother doesn’t worry about me the same way she worried about Hayes. But she’s worried about me more since my divorce. You take a woman whose first priority is her sons’ happiness followed closely by a priority to keep the family’s public reputation just as perfect and happy as our amusement park and movies, and she’s an unstoppable force when she thinks something’s wrong.
“Thank you for sending Emma blackmail material after Bash disappeared at the café,” I tell my brother.
He grunts the equivalent of ayou’re welcome.
Speaking of things we both know—we both know Emma wouldn’t have freaked out at Bash disappearing in a café she goes to all the time if there wasn’t the element ofmein her life now.
A few weeks ago, she was anonymous and happy and somewhere she felt safe. Bash disappearing into the kitchen of Sabrina’s café was probably normal then. Between watching how many people are in Emma’s close circle who adore him, and the stories Grey and Theo told about how close-knit the community is as a whole, it wouldn’t surprise me if Bash can slip into any kitchen in any restaurant in town, ask for a cookie, get it, and slip back to Emma’s side before she has reason to be concerned.
Now, though, normal things are grounds for anxiety for Emma.
Because of me.
“I’m quitting acting,” I tell my brother.
He doesn’t respond, which could meanduh, of course you are, or it could meanare you sure about that?
“It’s the right thing to do,” I add.
Again, no reply.
The back door opens. Begonia’s belly comes first, followed by the rest of her, and then Emma.
