A burial site.
“Are they really going to put us through months of this shit?” Blake asked, studying her nails. “These wedding events are too much.”
“Of course it’s too much for you, Sissy,” Bliss agreed. “You dipped out of your own wedding to elope.”
“And did,” Blake said. “I’d do that shit again, too. Bottom line … I married. I’m happy. And I’m not pregnant.”
I giggled. “You’re silly, Blake. But I will say, I think Sloan is doing this for Uncle Linc.”
Bliss sipped her wine. “No, she’s doing it for herself. She’s so in love that she wants a redo since her first husband demanded a Christmas wedding. She wants good weather, no snow, and all of her friends and family in attendance.”
“Good for her,” I said.
“Okay, that’s enough talking. I need you to get yourself together, Laiya,” Dallas ordered, pointing toward my bedroom. “I’m giving you one more chance to come out looking stunning. If you fail the next test, I’m delving into your closet myself.”
Without a word, I turned around and walked back into my room. The last couple of months had been a nightmare. Between court dates, attempted mediation, work, and arguments with Rod about the house, I was exhausted. Tonight was an opportunity to let my hair down, to celebrate my cousin’s engagement with family and friends.
After a few minutes, I’d given up on ‘stunning’ and went for comfortable, pulling out my signature all-black. Since it was still cold as hell and snowing, I chose a long-sleeved jumpsuit with an off-the-shoulder ruffle. I planned to wear black boots.
When I emerged from my room, Des had joined them. “Hey, babe. You’re here.”
Although we lived in the same house, Des had pretty much been absent the last couple of weeks. We’d always been close. She was my road dog, my favorite person in the world. I didn’t want this potential thing with Spence to impact my relationship with my daughter. I needed her to be good with this beforeIcould be good with it. She’d assured me she wasn’t upset, but I was worried. Especially since I would see Spence tonight. After all, he was Maddox’s uncle.
“Just left Dad,” Des told me. “I wanted to check in on him.”
Des had chosen not to come to the courthouse today, and I didn’t blame her. “How is he?” I asked.
“He’s good.” She approached me, wrapped her arms around me, and hugged me. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she whispered. “I’ve been bitchy, and you don’t deserve that.”
I brushed a hand over her cheek. “You’re fine, babe.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not a child but I acted like one.”
“You’remychild. You matter to me.”
“When you told me you were filing for divorce, I was glad. Dad snores, but that wasn’t the reason he was sleeping in the guest room. Over the years, I’ve watched you pretend to be happy even when I could see you were miserable—and lonely.”
Unshed tears burned my eyes and my throat, and I fought them. My mother’s addiction pushed her into despair, and I had a front row seat to her downward spiral. Bouts of depression. New baby. More liquor. Another kid. The cycle repeated. In between that, she cried. Every day. All day. And I never wanted my daughter to see me in that state. “Des, we don’t have to talk about this now.”
“I could hear you crying,” Des confessed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “When you thought I was sleep.”
My own tears burst free. Bliss was there with a box of Kleenex for both of us. “Thanks,” I mumbled.
“Mom, you matter to me, too. I don’t want you to fake happiness anymore.” She grinned, even as her tears continued to fall. “It’s time for you to have some fun.”
I caressed her face. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl. Every day, you amaze me. I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t your mother.”
She blew out a breath. “And I wouldn’t be so amazing if you weren’t my mom. And if you want to make out with Mr. Spencer, then?—”
“Wait,” Blake sat up straight, tossing a balled-up piece of tissue into the small wastebin, “who the hell is Mr. Spencer?”She glanced at Des. “And why the hell did you not lead with that? All this damn crying.”
Bliss gaped, dabbing her wet eyes with Kleenex. “Right? ’Cause you’ve been holding out, Alaiya.”
“Hell yeah,” Dallas agreed, not even bothering to wipe off the evidence that she’d been crying, too. “Now, I have to fix my makeup.”
“Y’all are wimps,” Demi teased, her own voice shaky. “Get it together.”
“For real,” Blake said. “Duke is right. I’m soft.”
