August looks to me, defeat and embarrassment present on his face. He steps to the counter, leaning across it. “I am so fucking sorry. I don’t know what she said to you, but I need you to forget it, okay? You’re not going anywhere, and she has no right to be speaking to you like that.” He kisses my cheek softly. “Let me deal with her so she can get out of our hair.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with her either, Augustus. You need to tell her that the way she, and your father, have treated you is deplorable.” I take his hand off the counter and fold my fingers around his. “You don’t need to keep this façade with them. You owe them nothing.”
He offers me a half smile. “It’s easier this way. She’s been through a lot.”
“So have you.” I sigh, dropping his hand. “And that doesn’t seem to concern them.”
“My love!” Sadie chimes from across the room. “Can you order me a hot green tea, please? Organic honey and a squeeze of lemon.”
His eyes flutter with annoyance. “You do not need to make her tea.”
“I can ask Dahlia to make it,” Darby offers as she walks behind the counter. “She’s in the back office, I assume? I had a question for her anyway, but I can ask her to take over for you.” She bites her lip, murmuring, “You don’t need to be dealing with any of this” before glancing at August, ensuring he understands the message was meant for him too.
“Don’t worry about it.” I force a smile. “I’ll take care of it.”
I walk away from the cash register, not allowing either of them to get another word in as I sort through our tea shelf and begin making Sadie’s cup. I hear two resigned sighs before the door that leads through the kitchen and to Dahlia’s office opens and closes, and August’s clipped footsteps echo toward the back of the coffee shop.
I take my sweet-ass time making her cup of tea. I think through every drop of venom I want to spit upon her, all of my diluted rage bellowing through my bones and settling upon my skin, forming spears I want to throw in her direction.
I’ve never liked her. I’ve never thought she was a good mother, but the way she’s treated August since Zach’s death is unforgivable. Watching her show up here unannounced and uninvited, demanding August’s attention without care for his well-being—it’s repulsive.
He may get angry with me for my next actions, but I fucking refuse to be complacent.
I didn’t have time to get a word in when she walked in earlier. She caught me off guard. I wasn’t paying attention when I heard someone enter the building, too wrapped up in a poem I was writing. I glanced up to find her seething stare gazing down at me like I was a piece of gum she stepped in, followed by a snappy, “What are you doing here?”
Before I could answer, Sadie launched into a tirade. She said she’d recently been told I was living with August, and that she wasn’t surprised to find I’d moved back to Pacific Shores and latched onto him the same way I had when I was young. That I was a manipulator, and that I’d always taken advantage of him. She told me I had a lot of nerve moving into Zach’s house after what I’d done. That she couldn’t believe I’d forced August back into my entrapment, and was working in the coffee shop right next to his business. Which, honestly, was the strangest take of all, considering it’s my brother who owns the entire boardwalk, and my sister-in-law who owns the bakery itself.
I was ready to laugh it off, tell her it was nice to see her, and advise her to get the fuck out of my face, but after seeing August walk in, his immediate complacency and her treatment of him—I’m livid.
I finish making her cup of tea, ensuring it’s made to perfection, before hanging my apron on the hook outside the kitchen door and nudging it open. “Dahlia!” I call. “I’m going to take my break if you could cover the register.”
“Sure!”
Her office door swings open a moment later, and Dahlia steps out, followed by a waddling Darby. There’s a forced smile on Dahlia’s face as she passes me and sidles up behind the counter. “I’m totally okay if you also want to head home a little early.”
“Or I can call Leo?” Darby asks. “Everett or your mom?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine.”
She sighs, hazel eyes etched with concern as she studies me. “Okay. Well, just know, I’m always here if you need me too.”
The look on her face is apprehensive, like she’s still trying to convince herself I don’t hate her, and for some reason, it makes this moment feel significant. I step around the counter, reaching out to grab Darby’s shoulder and tug her into me. She sighs softly, returning the hug, and I could swear I feel the baby kick between us, though maybe I’m just imagining it.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
When I pull away, she looks at me like she might cry, but neither of us mention it before she turns and walks out the front door in the direction of her flower shop.
“She really missed you,” Dahlia says from behind me.
“I missed her too,” I say, turning around. Dahlia watches me curiously as I swipe the green tea from the counter and make my way to where August and his mother sit.
His eyes go wide as I drag a chair from a nearby table and plop down beside them.
Sliding the drink across to her, I smile as Sadie glares. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation earlier.”
August’s hand finds my thigh beneath the table, drawing soothing circles, and it saddens me that he clearly feels stuck in the middle. I think he’s always felt this way, because while August never shared the information, Zach would often tell me the terrible things their mother said about me when I wasn’t around.
“Normally, I’d understand your feelings about me living in the home that Zach bought. It was hard for me to move in too. It was an adjustment for both of us.” I nod toward August. “I wouldn’t blame you for having feelings about that decision. Honestly, I don’t blame you for hating me, either. I’m not a terribly likable person. I get it.” I lean across the table, invading her personal space, and preen at the kernel of fear that sparks tolife in her eyes. “But the guilt and blame you have placed on your son’s shoulders, and the absurd treatment from your worthless husband is inconceivable. You are both shameful people, and August deserves so much better than you,” I seethe, hot tears burning behind my eyes. “Zach deserved better than you, too, and he would be fucking ashamed to know what you’ve put his brother through.” I rise from my chair so sharply, the legs of it scrape across the floor behind me. “Ashamed.”
