Simran says nothing, smoothing a hand over her gold-embroidered burnt-orange saree.
“You’re wasting your time testing me when you should be thinking about why Antaris prefers literally anyone else to you.” Simran is momentarily taken aback, whether from Veda’s tone or message, Veda isn’t sure. “He needs as much family as possible, and it doesn’t need to be blood. They just need to have his best interest at heart and give more of a damn about him than their own selfish wants. They need to encourage instead of discourage, breathe life into him instead of stealing it away. Instead of trying to bend everyone to your will, you need to protect them.”
“You have strong opinions about a child who is not yours.”
“I wasn’t only talking about Antaris.” Veda stands firm in the face of Simran’s surprise. “There are no guarantees in life. I know this more than most. My parents ...” Her voice catches. “I’veneverneeded them more than I do now.”
Simran is rendered speechless.
“No matter how old he gets, how angry or frustrated you make him, how much you push—he will never stop wanting a normal relationship with you. But that doesn’t mean he has to tolerate your shitty behavior simply because you gave him life.” Veda shakes her head. “I don’t understand how you get a second chance and squander it out of a stubborn need to be right.”
“No matter what you think, I do love my son. So much that I refuse to let him make mistakes.”
“It’s through mistakes that we learn.”
“I left my family just as he left us. They did not approve of the choices I made in life, of the man I fell in love with. They told me I would fail, and I refused to prove them right. I married Barrett, fit intohis family, his world, and became more than they ever believed I could be. Hiram—” Simran places a hand over her heart.
“Did the same as you, and you don’t see you’ve become what you once ran from.”
Simran looks away. “I push and I meddle because I want better for him. I want Hiram to be more than me. I do not want him to lose the Ellis name. It is what is owed to him, what is rightfully his.”
“And if he doesn’t want it?” Veda asks softly. “Betteris subjective. It’s an opinion, and opinions can be misguided. The highest duty he has isn’t to fulfill your wishes, but rather his own. Respect the decisions he makes. Let him raise Antaris as he wishes. If you love him like you say you do, let himbreathe, Simran. You’ve strangled him long enough.”
Simran turns, but her gaze moves past Veda, mouth forming a taut line. “How long have you been there?”
Veda turns to find Barrett in his wheelchair, parked in the doorway.
“Long enough.” His expression is impossible to read. “Simran, I’m tired. Aren’t you?”
“We can discuss this—”
“Now. Not later,” he cuts her off. “You weren’t like this when I fell in love with you. My family ... they’ve made monsters of us all, but I won’t let them get to HiramorAntaris. We lostfourteen years, and I’ll be damned if we lose any more. I have lost so much because I have idly stood by and did nothing. I’m sick of losing. I nearlydiedfor my silence. That ends today. Veda, please excuse us.”
She doesn’t hesitate, making her way to the sunroom. It’s warm and pleasant. The plants are lush. Veda sidesteps a palm and pauses. Hiram holds Antaris, his back to her, pointing out the glass window, telling a story about how he climbed that fence, got lost in the forest, and found a cave. Antaris isn’t looking outside in wonder, but at him ... then her. Losing his attention makes Hiram glance over his shoulder. His smile at Veda fades as he seems to notice the muted argument behind her. “What’s happening out there?”
“A conversation that’s long overdue.”
Twenty-Eight
Silence breaks with sniffles and soft sobbing. Bleary-eyed and barely awake, Hiram gets out of bed and approaches Veda from behind. She’s clutching her phone in shaking hands.
“What’s wrong?”
Veda turns into his embrace. “That was Gabriel. Ruth ...” She chokes. “She’s gone. Ariadne ... There was a fire. Itwasgoodbye.”
Hiram feels a pang at her loss. Ruth’s memory is complicated by everything that’s come to light, so he can only imagine how Veda must be feeling. When she tries to pull away, he holds on. He’s gotten better at fighting her instincts, at not reacting to her resistance, just holding and giving her shelter. Even whenshe’sthe storm.
“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs.
“I need to go. Everly—”
“Is in Portland with Marlene at rehab.”
“I—”
“You need to take care of yourself. It’s ...” He glances at the glowing clock. “It’s three in the morning. There’s nothing you can do now.”
The last flicker of her resistance melts away. She doesn’t want food, but eats the apple he slices for her. She isn’t thirsty, but drinks the water he places in her hands. Veda showers and he gives her space to grieve. When she emerges in a towel, Hiram waits outside while she changes, returning only when she opens the door. Her damp hair is already frizzing, but she lets him sit her down in front of the mirror in his room.After she moisturizes her hair, Hiram quietly brushes and fashions it into a single French braid to keep it from tangling. He’s so focused, he doesn’t notice her watching.
