Page 93 of Coming Up Roses

Myla Rose

Despite my bestefforts to push the worry Azalea’s words caused from my mind, it lingered. The entire car ride, I obsessed over what the more could possibly be.

When she turned down Drake’s drive, my worry eased a bit. At least until I saw a yard full of cars—familiar cars. “Please tell me this is a joke.”

“It’s not. Y’all need to talk. Go talk to him.”

“No, please, let’s just go.”

“Not gonna happen. Now, get out before I drag you kicking and screaming. Don’t think I won’t.” She has me there, because I know full well that she will.

“Fine. But I’m not happy.”

“You weren’t happy to start with.” She pins me with a look, daring me to argue. I keep silent because once again, she has me.

As we’re approaching the house, the back-gate flies open and Cash stalks out. He’s on a path straight for us, and I’m helpless to do more than stare. My eyes eat him up and my heart squeezes in my chest. I’ve missed him so much.

It’s been less than a week, but he seems so different from my Cash. His mouth is hard, and his eyes are angry. I shake like a leaf as he continues toward me. He doesn’t speak, not a single word. He merely grabs my hand and pulls me back the way he came.

I’m so scared, so nervous—my anxiety’s rolling through me like waves, and yet his presence is calming too. My emotions are rioting in my chest, banging and clanging around. My feelings are being tossed every which way, but I put on a brave face and take the seat next to him on Drake’s back porch.

“So . . .” I hedge, not quite ready to spill my guts.

“So . . .” he echoes me, his voice rough. “Everyone says I need to let you try and clear the air. So, have at it, Myla Rose. The floor’s yours.”

There’s an edge to his voice that pisses me off, but I guess I deserve it. After a few calming breaths, I launch into my side of the story.

“The first time Taylor texted me was the day you went to his house.”

“Figured that.”

“He was threatening me, saying I was his whether he wanted me or not. Saying he was going to take the baby.” My lower lip trembles, but I power through. “I didn’t want to tell you then, because we were having such a special night, and I didn’t want Taylor Mills tainting it.

“I know I should have told you the next day. Jesus, looking back, I should have told you right then. But everything just sort of snowballed. He would go days, sometimes weeks, between texts. Every time, I’d get lulled into this false sense of security. I’d convince myself that it was over and that his threats were empty.” I risk a look at Cash and the vein in his neck is popping. He’s so very angry.

Sinking lower into my chair, I pick back up. “The day at the salon was actually Kathy’s appointment—and just so you know, I was planning to tell her that day that she needed to find a new stylist—but Taylor showed up in her place. I told him to leave, and he started to cause a scene. He told me he’d consider not stripping me of custody if I would listen to whatever he had to say. We had clients in the salon and I was desperate to get him out of there, so I gave in.

“I’ll sure say you did.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “Not like that. I listened as he droned on and on about the pressure he was under to do well in school. I listened to him lament about his mother pressuring him to marry ‘up’, like I fucking care, right? Anyway . . .” I laugh, but it’s empty and hollow.

“He went on and on and on about nothing. Finally, I got fed up and told him to get to the point, and you know what he said? He told me he really didn’t want anything to do with this baby. Said he should’ve made me get an abortion. Said he was only harassing me to watch me squirm. It took every ounce of willpower not to kill him. And this whole time, he’s holding my wrist so tightly that it physically hurts.” By this point, Cash is gripping the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles are a painful white.

“I was trying to get Azalea’s attention, and there you were, with eyes full of dark clouds. And he hears me say your name, and that just sets him off all over again. Next thing I know, his lips are on mine and my world is slowly ending because you’re hauling outta there like a fire’d been lit under your ass. I chased after you, but . . .”

“Damn, darlin’. I had no clue. I really wish you’d have just talked to me.” His calling me darlin’ has my hope soaring. That has to be a sign, right?

“I know, Cash, truly, I do. I’m only human, and I was so scared and so confused. I messed up. I get that. You have to know I’d never be unfaithful to you, right?” Mustering every bit of courage I possess, I clasp his hand in mine. “Remember when you said my heart was enough? Well, it’s yours—take it or leave it.” I release his hand and lean in, pressing a brief kiss to his lips before walking toward the back gate. From the edge of the deck, I turn and call to him over my shoulder, “Hey, Cash? I really hope you take it.”

As I round the gate, I pull out my phone to text Azalea that I’m ready to leave. Only I never make it that far. Because standing in front of me is the sweetest-looking middle-aged woman I’ve ever seen.

“You must be Myla Rose,” she states as she comes to a stop directly in front of me. “I’m Sandra, Cash’s mom.”

“Yes, ma’am, it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Oh, sweet girl, I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I already know you. Now, I expect to see you at our next Family Dinner Night.”

“Oh, no, Ms. Carson—Cash and I . . . we aren’t—”

“Maybe not right now, but I raised my boy right, and he’ll come around. Just you wait and see.”

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