by Lucy Score
This one big happy family deal wasn’t real, and the sooner everyone stopped pretending it was, the better.
I’d walked Waylay to the bus stop while Naomi got ready for work. I didn’t feel comfortable letting either one of them out of my sight while there was the possibility that whoever had broken in was still in town. Still looking to do more damage.
Which made what I was about to do even more of a problem.
When Naomi started for a table near the window, I steered her to a booth in the back. Public, but not too public.
“So I made a list for Nash,” she said, pulling a piece of paper out of her purse and smoothing it out on the table. Blissfully unaware of what I was about to do.
My brother’s name caught me off guard. “A list of what?” I demanded.
“Of the dates that I think Tina could have broken into the cottage and of any suspicious people I could remember. There’s not much there, and I don’t know how it’s going to help. But he said it would help if I could at least narrow down the timing of the earlier break-in,” she said, picking up a menu.
“I’ll pass it on to him,” I said, wishing for a stiff drink.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, cocking her head to study me. “You look tired.”
“Daze, we gotta talk.” The words were choking me. My skin felt too tight. Everything felt wrong.
“Since when do you feel like stringing words together?” she teased.
She trusted me. The thought made me feel like dog shit. Here she was, thinking her boyfriend was treating her to lunch in the middle of the day. But I’d warned her, hadn’t I? I’d told her not to let herself get too close to me.
“Things have gotten…complicated,” I said.
“Look, I know you’re worried about the break-in,” Naomi said. “But I think when the new security system goes in, it will be a load off our minds. Warner is back home, so if it was him throwing some destructive temper tantrum, he’s too far away to do it again. And if it was Tina, the odds are she either found what she was looking for or realized I don’t have it. You don’t need to worry about me and Way.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I just needed to get the words out.
She reached across the table and squeezed my wrist. “By the way, I just want you to know how grateful I am that you’re here. And you’re helping. It makes me feel like I’m not alone. Like maybe for the first time ever, I don’t have to be completely responsible for every single thing. Thank you for that, Knox.”
I closed my eyes and tried not to throw up.
“Look. Like I said.” I had to grit my teeth to get through it. “Things are complicated, and part of that’s on me.”
She looked up and frowned. “Are you okay? You look tired.”
I was fucking exhausted. And full of self-loathing.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “But I think it’s time to move on.”
Got yourself a girl? The words echoed in my mind.
Her hand stilled on my arm. “Move on?”
“I’ve had a good time. I hope you have too. But we need to stop this thing before one of us gets too attached.”
She stared at me, those hazel eyes stunned and unblinking.
Fuck.
“You mean me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I mean what we’re doing is…” Scaring the shit out of me. “This thing between us has run its course.” Because I can’t trust myself with you, I thought.
“You brought me here to a public place to break up with me? Unbelievable.”
Her hand was gone now, and I knew I’d never feel it again. I didn’t know what had the power to break me faster, knowing that or knowing what would happen if I didn’t end this now.
“Look, Naomi, we both knew the score when we started this. I just think before one of us gets in over their head, we need to pull back.”
“I’m such an idiot,” she whispered, bringing her fingertips to her temples.
“I know you’ve got the custody hearing coming up next month, and I’m willing to still keep up the appearance that we’re together, if you think it’ll help you in court. And I’m still gonna be keeping an eye on you and Way until we know for sure who busted into your place.”
“How magnanimous of you,” she said, her tone icy.
I could handle angry. Hell, I could eat angry for breakfast every day. It was the tears, the hurt, the pain I couldn’t deal with.
“I said from the beginning I don’t do strings.” I’d warned her. I’d tried to do the right thing. Yet here she was looking at me like I’d deliberately wounded her.
And then suddenly the look was gone. The softness vanished from her face, the fire from her eyes.
“I understand,” she said. “I’m a lot. Waylay’s a lot. This whole thing is a lot. Even on my best day, I’m too much and yet not enough.” Her laugh was humorless.
“Don’t, Daisy,” I ordered before I could help myself.
She took a slow, deep breath then gave me a perfunctory smile that felt like a fucking cleaver to the heart. “I believe that’s the last time you get to tell me what to do and call me Daisy.”
I felt something rising inside me that had nothing to do with the relief I’d expected. No. This thing growing inside me felt like the white-hot edges of panic. “Don’t be like that.”
She slid out of the booth and stood up. “You didn’t have to do it this way. Out in public so I wouldn’t make some kind of scene. I’m a big girl, Knox. And someday, I’m going to find the kind of man who wants an uppity, needy pain in the ass. One who wants to wade into my mess and stay for the duration. Obviously, you’re not him. At least you told me that from the start.”
I stood too, feeling like I’d somehow lost control of the situation. “I didn’t say that.”
“Those are your words, and you’re right. I should have listened the first time you said them.”
She grabbed her purse and snatched the paper off the table in front of me.
“Thank you for your offer of pretending to be interested in me, but I think I’ll pass.” She wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“Nothing needs to change, Naomi. You can still work at the bar. You and Liza still have an arrangement. Everything else can stay the same.”
“I have to go,” she said, starting for the door.
I grabbed her arm and pulled her into me. It had felt so natural, and it had the other benefit of forcing her to look at me. The knot in my gut loosened temporarily when her gaze met mine.
“Here,” I said, yanking the envelope out of my back pocket and handing it over.
“What’s this? A list of reasons I wasn’t good enough?”
“It’s cash,” I said.
She recoiled like I’d told her it was an envelope of spiders.
“Take it. It’ll help you and Way out.”
She slapped the envelope against my chest. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you now. But especially not your money.”
With that, she tried to yank free. It was a reflex that had me tightening my grip.
“Take. Your. Hands. Off. Me, Knox,” Naomi said softly.
It wasn’t fire in her eyes now. It was ice.
“Naomi, it doesn’t have to be this way.”
“Good-bye, Knox.”
She slipped out of my grip, leaving me staring after her like an idiot.
THIRTY-NINE
BREAKING UP, DOWN, AND THROUGH
Naomi
Too complicated. Too much. Too needy. Not worth it.
The thoughts swirled in my head on a vicious merry-go-round as I marched down the sidewalk, Knockemout blurring around me through unshed tears.
I’d made a life here. I’d built up a fantasy in my mind. Taken afternoon coffees and whispered dirty talk to mean something else entirely. He didn’t want me. He never had.
Worse, he hadn’t wanted Waylay either. I’d taken my young, impressionable charge and dragged her into my relationship
with a man who was never going to be there for her in the long-term.
I’d seen it in his eyes. The pity. He felt sorry for me. Poor, stupid Naomi falling for the bad boy who’d made no promises.
And the money. The gall of the man thinking he could break my heart and then fork over cash like I was a prostitute and like it would somehow make everything all right. It added a new layer to the humiliation.
I was going to go to Liza’s, fake a migraine, and spend the rest of the day in bed. Then I was going to have an overdue chat with myself about picking the wrong fucking guy. Again.
And when I was done lecturing myself, I was going to make sure that Waylay never let herself get stuck into positions like this.
Oh, God. I lived in the small town of freaking small towns. I’d see him around. Everywhere. At the coffee shop. At work. This was his town. Not mine.
Did I even belong here?
“Hey, Naomi!” Bud Nickelbee called as he ducked out of the hardware store. “Just wanted to let you know I popped out this morning and fixed your front door.”
I stopped in my tracks. “You did?”
He bobbed his head. “Heard about the trouble and didn’t want you to have to worry about getting the repairs done.”
I hugged him hard. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you, Bud.”
He shrugged against me, then awkwardly patted my back. “Just figured you had enough crap to deal with and thought you could use a break.”
“You’re a good man, Bud.”
“Okaaaaaay,” he said. “You all right? You need me to call someone? I can have Knox come get you.”
I shook my head rapidly from side to side until the hardware store and its owner blurred before me. “No!” I barked. “I mean, thanks but no.”
The door to Dino’s opened, and my stomach dropped into my toes when Knox stepped outside onto the sidewalk.
I turned away, praying for invisibility.
“Naomi,” he called.
I started walking in the opposite direction.
“Naomi, come on. Stop,” Knox said.
But with just a few words, he’d permanently lost the privilege of me listening to him when he told me what to do.
“Now, Knox. I don’t think the lady wants to talk to you right now,” I heard Bud advise.
“Step aside, Bud,” I heard Knox growl.
I was an idiot. But at least I was a fast-moving idiot.
I walked briskly down the block, determined to leave Knox in my rearview mirror just like my ex-fiancé.
A man doesn’t go all in with a woman, it’s for a reason.
Maybe he’s looking for something better.
My chest physically ached as Knox’s words about Warner echoed in my head.
Was there someone out there who would find me to be enough? Not too much or too little, but the person they’d been waiting for their whole life.
Tears burned my eyes as I turned the corner at a jog.
I blamed them for not seeing the woman who stepped out of the storefront.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, a split second after barreling into her.
“Ms. Witt.”
Oh dear God, no.
Yolanda Suarez, stern caseworker who had never once seen me at my best, looked nonplussed at the full-body contact.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
The lie was on the tip of my tongue. So familiar it almost felt true. But it wasn’t. Sometimes the truth was bigger than any intention.
“No, I’m not.”
Ten minutes later, I stared down at a heart drawn in the foam of the latte in front of me.
“So, that’s everything. I pretended to be in a relationship with a man who told me not to fall in love with him and then I did. My ex-fiancé showed up at my job and caused a scene. Someone broke into our house, and no one is sure if it was him, Tina, or a random criminal. Oh, and Waylay tried to get revenge on a mean teacher with field mice.”
Across from me, Yolanda picked up her green tea and sipped. She set the mug down. “Well, then.”
“Brought you some cookies,” Justice said, looking mournful. He slid a plate onto the table near my elbow.
“Were these hearts?” I asked, holding up what was clearly one half of a pink frosted heart.
He winced. “I broke ’em in half. Was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
“Thank you, Justice. That’s so sweet of you,” I said. Before leaving, he squeezed my shoulder, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.
“Basically what I’m saying is I’m a big enough mess that I can’t hide it, and you deserve to know the truth. But I promise you—even though my life doesn’t look like it—I am extremely organized, resourceful, and I will do whatever it takes to keep Waylay safe.”
“Naomi,” she said, “Waylay is lucky to have you as a guardian, and any court in the state is going to come to the same conclusion. Her attendance at school is improved. Her grades are up. She has real friends. You’re making a positive impact on that little girl’s life.”
For once in my life, I didn’t want a gold star. I wanted someone to see me. Really see me for the hot mess I was. “What about all the things I’m doing wrong?”
I thought I detected a hint of pity in Mrs. Suarez’s smile. “That’s parenting. We’re all doing our best. We’re exhausted, confused, and feeling like we’re constantly being judged by everyone else who looks like they’ve got it all figured out. But no one does. We’re all just making it up as we go.”
“Really?” I whispered.
She leaned forward. “Last night I grounded my twelve-year-old for three days because he was on my last nerve before he told me that he liked his friend Evan’s mom’s meatballs better than mine.”
She took another sip of tea. “And today I’ll apologize and unground him if he cleaned his room. Even though Evan’s mom gets her meatballs from the freezer section of Grover’s Groceries.”
I managed a tremulous smile. “It’s just life is so much harder than I thought it would be,” I confessed. “I thought if I had a plan and followed the rules, it would be easy.”
“Can I give you some advice?” she asked.
“Please do.”
“At some point, you have got to stop worrying so much about what everyone else needs and start thinking about what you need.”
I blinked. “I would think selflessness was a good quality in a guardian,” I said with a defensive sniff.
“So is setting an example for your niece about how she doesn’t need to turn herself inside out to be loved. How she doesn’t need to set herself on fire to keep someone else warm. Demanding to have your own needs met isn’t problematic—it’s heroic, and kids are watching. They’re always watching. If you set an example that tells her the only way she’s worthy of love is by giving everyone everything, she’ll internalize that message.”
I dropped my forehead to the table with a groan.
“There’s a difference between taking care of someone because you love them and taking care of someone because you want them to love you,” she continued.
There was a big difference. One of them was genuine and giving, and the other was manipulative, controlling.
“You’re going to be fine, Naomi,” Yolanda assured me. “You’ve got a big heart, and sooner or later, once all this drama is over, someone is going to look at you and recognize it. And they’re going to want to take care of you for a change.”
Yeah, right.
I was realizing that the only person I could count on in this life was me. And Stef, of course. But him being gay definitely put a damper on our romance.
“About Knox,” she said.
I picked my head up off the table. Just hearing his name was a jagged splinter in my heart.
“What about him?”
“I don’t know another woman in town who wouldn’t have fallen under Knox Morgan’s spell given the time a
nd attention he gave you. I’ll also say this—I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. If he was faking those feelings, someone needs to get that man an Academy Award.”
“I’ve known him for a good, long time. And I’ve never known him to do anything he didn’t want to do, especially when it comes to women. If he willingly agreed to the guise of a relationship, he wanted it.”
“It was his idea,” I whispered. A spark of hope lit inside me. One I immediately extinguished.
A man doesn’t go all in with a woman, it’s for a reason.
“He had a shit time with his mom’s death and everything that came after,” she continued. “He didn’t have the happily ever after example you grew up with. Sometimes when you don’t know what’s possible, you can’t hope for it yourself.”
“Ms. Suarez.”
“I think at this point you can call me Yolanda.”
“Yolanda, we’re practically the same age. How do you have all of this wisdom?”
“I’ve been married twice and have four kids. My parents have been married for fifty years. My husband’s parents have been divorced and remarried so many times neither of us can keep count. If there’s one thing I understand, it’s love and how damn messy it can be.”
“Hi, sweetie. How was lunch?” My mom was dressed in a dirt-streaked t-shirt and sun hat. She had a glass of iced tea in one hand and a gardening glove on the other.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, trying to keep my eyes averted as I headed for the front porch. Amanda Witt had a keen sense of when something was wrong with someone, and this was not a conversation I felt like having. “Where’s Way?”
“Your father took her to the mall. What’s wrong? What happened? Did someone choke on a breadstick at lunch?”
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
“Did something happen with Knox?” she asked softer now.
I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat, but I was choking on unshed tears.
“Okay. Let’s go sit down,” she said, guiding me down the hall to the bedroom she was sharing with my father.
It was a bright, pretty room done in creams and grays. There was a large four-poster bed and windows that overlooked the backyard and creek. A vase of fresh flowers sat on a table tucked between two armchairs that occupied the space in front of the windows.