I think over her words, trying to separate everything in my head. It’s something I’ve been struggling with—feeling guilty or ashamed for enjoying what we do. It’s been playing on my mind a lot. Michael didn’t put it as straightforward as Six did. Maybe if he had, I wouldn’t still be stressing over it all. He didn’t make me feel bad about it, of course, but he made me question my instincts and impulses. Worse, he made me question Ambros. I know it’s his job. All he hears me mention is that I’m dating a guy in a motorcycle club, and given my history, that’s a red flag. Heck, I’d probably be more worried if he didn’t have concerns. I just need someone to tell me that I’m not messing everything up. I’ve come too far now to backslide.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just processing. I think…I think I need to give myself permission to be happy,” I admit with a soft exhale. “There’s a lot of guilt in here, because I’m alive and my boys aren’t. I couldn’t protect them. Shouldn’t my happiness be forfeit?”
“And would that be fair to your daughter? If your sons had been given the chance to grow, would they have wanted a lifetime of misery for their mother?”
A tear slips down my cheek as I think back to each of their angelic faces and tiny hands and feet. I don’t let my mind wander to them often, not because I want to forget. I will never forget them, but sometimes, remembering is more than I can bear.
“If they’re looking down on you now, do you think they’d want this life you built with Star, Ambros, and the club, or would they want you back in their evil father’s clutches?”
“You’re right. Of course you’re right. It’s just a lot. The losses always hit harder than the wins. Why is that?”
“The wins leave a smile, but the losses leave a scar.”
“Huh. I never thought about it like that before.”
“What you need is to get out of your own head.”
“I’m not arguing with that. I just don’t know how to do it.”
“You need a hobby.”
“A hobby?”
“Yeah, you know, something for you to do that’s fun. I started painting. I’m not great at it, but I sit out by the lake and feel inspired. It helps calm the noise in my head.”
I lean back and think about it. “I’m not sure painting is my thing.”
“Doesn’t need to be painting. What do you like?”
I open my mouth to answer, but realize I don’t actually know. I feel a spiral of panic but before it can choke me, Six reaches over and squeezes my hand. “That just means you get to try a bunch of different things until you find something you like. And remember, you don’t have to be good at it for it to be fun.”
“Okay, I can do this. I just need to think about it a little.”
She nods and smiles before looking over her shoulder.
“Don’t tell me they’re still standing there.”
“Oh, no.” I relax before she speaks up again. “They’re walking over to us instead. They actually lasted longer than I thought they would.”
I shake my head, hiding my grin as Ambros pulls out the chair beside me and King does the same on the opposite side of him.
“Hey, angel.” He grins like he doesn’t give a fuck. I sigh—not really mad—but the guy needs to learn some boundaries.
“Ambros. Fancy seeing you here, at my table.”
He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. “What can I say? I missed you.”
“Yes, you must have been devastated for the twenty minutes we were separated,” I deadpan, making Six giggle.
He gives me puppy-dog eyes. I fight the smile tugging at my lips, but he’s impossible to resist.
“You want a drink? What about you, King?”
“I’m good. Thank you, Citi. I thought you ladies might like to go for a walk, though. Get some air?”
I look from King to Six, who waits for me to respond before she does. I already know she prefers to be outside than cooped up inside. “Sounds good to me.”
