“Honey, this is nothing like Mom and Dad,” Andreea says, trying to placate me, but I was there. I lived through it all.
“It is. And not to be a cliche, but their divorce really fuckedme up, Andi,” I say, wiping away a tear. “And you weren’t there for me. You were off to college, doing your own thing.”
My sister sighs and wraps me in a hug. “You’re right. I don’t know how much it messed you up, because I had a different perspective. But I do think you’re overreacting a bit, comparing this situation to our parents. Their relationship was a dumpster fire. You and Rowan, on the other hand, you two are perfect for each other.”
“Maybe. Or maybe deep down I know I don’t deserve him,” I cry, letting my sister pet my hair and hold me tight.
CHAPTER 29
Maggie
April - Sacramento
The next morning,I tell myself I’m only allowed a few more days of wallowing before I need to go back to Palm Beach. Back to playing. Without Rowan.
Just the thought of it makes me depressed and I slump back on the bed in my sister’s guest bedroom. All her pretty decorative pillows are tossed on the floor and I’m tangled up in the sheets. A soft knock on the door gets me to finally sit up. “Come in,” I say.
“Hey, I’ve got breakfast, if you want to join us.” She looks adorable in her light pink nightgown and bare feet. Her hair is long and silky, resting in a braid on her shoulder. She fiddles with the end of it and motions with her head for me to join her.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, making a pit stop first in the bathroom. My hands grip the edge of the counter and I bite the inside of my cheek. I look like a mess. My eyes are all puffy and I’ve gotdark circles standing out. I finger comb my hair and put it up in a ponytail, but even that looks limp and lifeless.
When I walk into the kitchen, Max greets me with a side hug and a mug of coffee. “Hey, champ. How are you holding up?”
“As well as I can, I guess. How was my dad?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of coffee.
Max snorts. “Menacing, as always. Gave me a lecture about parenting.”
“Right, like he has room to talk.” I roll my eyes. Andreea hears us and gives us both an admonishing look.
“He’s trying, okay? Cut him some slack,” she says, pointing a spatula between the two of us. “Besides, I invited him for dinner tonight, so you both behave.”
“No, why would you do that?” I whine, putting down my coffee and stealing a couple slices of bacon before Andreea has the chance to swat my hand away.
“Because I happened to mention you were in town and he said he wanted to see you,” she says, shrugging.
“He could have reached out to me and asked to see me,” I mumble.
“And would you have answered him?” she counters, one perfect blonde eyebrow raised.
“No,” I say, grabbing a few strawberries off the fruit platter. I’ve sent every one of his calls to voicemail for the past few months.
“Exactly. All I’m asking is for you to try, please. Now go take a shower. We’re going to go out shopping today and then we’re going to cook together.”
“And I am heading to work,” Max chimes in, pulling my sister in for a kiss. His hands rub her shoulders and he whispers something in her ear that makes her giggle. The open affection makes me think of Rowan again and all the times Iwanted him to hold me like that in front of our friends and family.
I blamed him for breaking all our rules, and yet—I was the one making them. It was as much my fault as it was his. I turn around and give Max and Andreea some privacy, checking my phone in the process.
When I realize all I have are article alerts and not a single call or text from Rowan, I sigh and drop the phone on the couch. Maybe I should be the one reaching out. Or maybe he’s finally realized he can do better.
My mood issour the rest of the day as Andreea drags me shopping. First, we get new outfits and stop by her favorite frozen yogurt place, then we go to a coffee shop, where she tells me about her plans for the nursery, which I haven’t gotten to see yet, and how excited she is about the baby.
“You’re going to make a great mom.” I smile, sipping on my chai latte.
“I’ll try my damned hardest,” she says. The two of us share a look, and I know she’s thinking of our own mom. Even though she shows up for us, there’s always some string attached—some favor we owe her for doing the bare minimum.
“So,” she says, taking a sip of her hot tea and pinning me with a hard look. Uh-oh. “What are you going to do about Rowan?”
“I don’t know,” I groan, resting my forehead on the table.
