I dutifully cover Ellie’s ears with my hands. “Well?”
“Jonathan and I just get a little rough in the bedroom sometimes.” She waggles her eyebrows like she’s letting me in on some scandalous secret. “It’s actually pretty hot.”
Everything in me screams that she’s lying. There’s a tremor in her hands and a forced casualness in her tone that feels wrong.
“Avah—”
“I really need to get back to work.” She unlocks her car with a click. “Jonathan’s expecting me for a marketing meeting.”
Right. Because she’s working for her fiancé’s financial firm now. Totally enmeshed in his life. And I have a bad feeling about all of it.
“I can help?—”
“With what?” There’s something fierce in her gaze when it slams into mine again, like she’s a wild animal that’s been cornered. “You’ve got plenty to deal with on your own, Piper.” She starts ticking off my problems on her fingers. “You’re pregnant, unemployed, and living with a man you can’t figure out if you love orhate. You’re helping to raise a kid who isn’t yours. And, oh yeah, attending a wedding with your ex-fiancé and his new wife.” Her blue eyes narrow. “Don’t invent problems for me because misery loves company.”
I take a step back, stung by her words.
Guilt and remorse flash in her eyes for just a second before she locks down her expression. “I’m sorry, Pip. That was…I shouldn’t have…” She presses her fingers to her temples. “I’m fine. Really.”
She slides into her car before I can respond, the door closing with a decisive slam. I stand there in the parking lot with Ellie, watching the BMW pull away too fast, and knowing that my friend is anything but fine.
“Ava bye-bye.” Ellie waves at the retreating car.
“Yeah, Bean. Bye-bye.”
But not for long. Avah might have shut me down, and she might be right that I have my own mess to sort through, but I know that look in her eyes. I saw it too many times during my ER rotation. On the faces of women who came in because of accidents but with stories that didn’t add up.
On the way home, Ellie falls asleep in the car seat, her stuffed elephant clutched in one fist. I grip the steering wheel and make a silent promise. I might be a hot mess, still trying to figure out how to stand on my own two feet and build a future that’s mine, not one handed to me by someone else.
But I sure as hell know how to stand up for a friend.
And whether Avah wants it or not, I’m going to have her back. Because something is very wrong, and I refuse to look away.
25
FELIX
I’mat Ian and Sadie’s place Saturday afternoon, sitting on the floor of their family room and watching my thirteen-year-old niece orchestrate the most ambitious blanket fort construction project in the history of the world.
“Uncle Felix, can you hold this corner?” Riva asks, handing me the edge of what I’m pretty sure is their guest bedroom comforter. “We need structural integrity.”
“Structural integrity for a blanket fort?”
“It’s not just a blanket fort.” She rolls her eyes in that way only teenagers can pull off. “This is the official Princess Ellie castle.”
The princess toddles over with a throw pillow clutched in both hands, her face serious with concentration. “Fee, help.”
“On it, munchkin.” I secure the corner Riva handed me under the couch cushion while Ellie adds her pillow in what I can only describe as an interior design statement.
Piper’s attending her friend’s wedding while Sadie’s off doing a private dog training session at some client’s house, which is why we’re in charge of the castle. I use the term “in charge” loosely, considering Riva is clearly running this operation.
Ian’s sprawled on the floor next to me, his backagainst the sectional, grinning at the controlled chaos. “Remember when we used to build forts like this?”
“Yeah, and Dad would come home and make us tear them down because they were in the way.”
“Good times.” Ian’s tone is dry, but there’s no real bitterness there anymore. He’s made peace with the fact that our father sucked at actual parenting. Ian’s also quick to claim he’s defied the Barlowe curse Dad loved to spout on about in great detail. How men like us weren’t built for love or commitment. I’m starting to understand my father’s legacy is not something I have to haul around like some kind of generational rucksack.
“So.” Ian stretches his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “How’d it go at Grizzlies’ headquarters yesterday?”
