Page 25 of Losing a Piece of Me

I wipe my eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

“You don’t always have to be so strong, you know.” She brushes her hair away from her perfectly painted face.

Compared to her, I’m a fucking mess.

“I noticed you didn’t come home last night.”

My head pops up. “Oh, I stayed with Gemma.”

She gives me a knowing smile. “Really? I saw Striker at the dinner last night, and saw the little exchange he had with that guy Mom was trying to set you up with.”

An awkward laugh escapes me. “You saw that?”

Her smile widens. “Uh-huh. He is one sexy guy.” Her eyes glaze over and a dreamy look covers her face.

I lightly smack her arm. “You are an engaged woman now.”

She shrugs. “So? I can still look. I don’t know why you try staying away from him. Anyone can look at the two of you and see how much you love each other.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Mom would have a fit.” I can’t tell her the real reason.

“I’ve always been so jealous of you. Did you know that?”

I scoff. “You, jealous of me? What’s wrong with you?”

She seems taken back. “Are you kidding me? You live your life the way you want. You don’t let people push you around. You don’t let Mom push you around. You don’t have to answer to anyone. You’re free. You’re strong. Not anything like me. I haven’t gotten to make a decision since…” She stops and thinks. “I don’t know, ever?”

I sit up a little straighter and study her.

“I’m serious. Mom is the one planning my wedding. She picked out my dress and she’s the one who introduced me to Richard to begin with. My whole life, I’ve lived for her.”

Sadness settles over me. “I’ve been disowned. Do you want that?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I do.”

“Trust me, you don’t. It’s lonely. You have no family, no one to talk to. You start from scratch. It’s not the place to be.” I stand and walk across the room, needing distance. I lean against the dresser and cross my arms.

“Then why do you do it?”

My eyes fall to the fluffy white carpet and I shrug again. “It’s just who I am. If I can’t be true to myself, who am I really?”

She stands and walks up to me, gently laying a hand on my shoulder and looking me square in the eye. “And that is why I’ve always been jealous of you. You’re just you. You don’t give in. You know what you want and you take it. You’re always so sure, and you aren’t afraid of anything.” She hugs me close.

If she only knew.

Hesitantly, I return her embrace until she pulls back and wipes her own tears away. “I should probably get ready for brunch. “I’ll see you in a bit?”

I nod a confirmation and she heads out.

Steph’s words echo through my head while I shower. Is she right?

She said I was strong. Am I strong? I’ve never considered myself strong.

Am I making a mistake with Striker? Was last night a good thing or a bad thing?

The confusing cocktail of emotions starts to bring on a headache, so I force it all out of my mind as I finish getting ready for brunch. I am left with a few free minutes before heading downstairs, so I occupy myself by packing my bags. After brunch, I’m leaving. I’m going back home.

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