“Isla, actually, why don’t you stay—”
“Get in the car,” I cut her off.
My hand is in my pocket, digging out the keys to Jacob’s truck he’d practically pitched at my head this morning. I stuff them into Isla’s palm. I go even further by twisting the front door open and forcibly nudging her out onto the porch. To add to my smug satisfaction at pissing Macie off, I shut the door behind her.
Then it’s just me and the only woman on earth I have ever wanted to put my hands on.
“Isla is coming with us. I think it’s best for all involved.”
“I was under the impression that you were with Nicky.”
I grit my jaw at the nickname.
“Are,” I correct.
She gives a brittle chuckle. “I see.” She clasps her fingers together. “I didn’t realize he would appreciate you putting your hands on his sister.”
“Step,” I remind her.
She blinks once, slow and meditative. “I think after thirteen years, we can agree—”
“I don’t.” I straighten my shoulders and peer down the length of my nose at her. “Maybe you can, but I live in reality. So, I will not be doing that.”
I’m being rude, but I don’t give a fuck. There isn’t a force on earth that can make me forget the way Isla sobbed in my arms, and I will live with that sound haunting me until the day I die. I will also hate the person responsible until their last breath.
But I’m done being in the same space as her. I’m done biting my cheek to keep from unleashing the all-holy hell lodged in my chest. I reach for Isla’s duffle with one hand and the doorknob with the other.
“Your sympathies are wasted.”
I freeze mid twist and face the bitch.
“What?”
Fuck being polite.
Long, thin arms circle around the thermos, clasping it to her chest.
“This is what she does. She makes you feel badly for her when she’s the one at fault.” Her expression morphs into one of self-deprecation. “I know it’s my fault. I coddled her too much after her father left us. Being a single mom to a hormonal teenage girl is exhausting, but I did my best. Ultimately, she became addicted to attention. She’s never happy no matter how hard I try.”
I don’t know how stupid she thinks I am, but apparently very, because she continues in her melancholy drawl.
“Her father doesn’t help when he calls and starts all of this nonsense. Isla has learned from a young age how to pit us against each other. Honestly, some days, I can’t help but wonder if she’s not the reason our marriage didn’t work. It’s why I’m sohard on her now. I’m finally happy with Walker and I can’t let her come between us. Boundaries. I learned that the hard way, unfortunately.”
A tense sort of silence extends between us where she stares at me expectantly, and I stare back with a raised eyebrow.
Seriously, what does she expect me to do? Tell her she’s right. That a child was the reason her marriage didn’t work? If anything, this revelation has made me question Walker’s mental capacity. This is the woman he chose, which is fine. I’m not here to judge anyone. But the more she talks, the less I want a damn thing to do with her.
“I’m going to go now,” I mumble, pulling the door open to the crisp morning.
Macie blinks, all traces of her sulk vanishing into bewilderment.
I leave her like that and step out onto the porch. My boots crunch on the thin layer of snow that has fallen overnight. I already regret my choices leaving without a coat, but stubborn pride has me marching to the truck and the small, pale face watching me from the backseat.
There’s fear in her eyes. A devastating mix of acceptance and defeat. It’s the eyes of someone who wishes one thing but knows it won’t happen in their favor. I can’t help wondering if she thinks Macie convinced me to leave her behind.
Fat fucking chance.
But so many people have already failed her, submitted and fallen for Macie’s bullshit. I can’t blame her for thinking I would follow suit.
