Page 57 of Love and Cherish

“I like you, too.” Haylee’s face all but glowed with the blush that spread from her cheeks.

A cough from the front of the vehicle made Cherish jump.

“Sorry, Miss. I was just wondering, um…are you still needing my services this evening?”

“Oh, the gala.” Haylee looked stricken, and Cherish knew she should be concerned, but she couldn’t find the energy to focus on that right now.

“Yes, I suppose we should get there.” Cherish pushed up a little, sitting straighter while the weight of the emotions pressed on her, but despite that, she felt lighter than she had in years. “Hopefully, Febe hasn’t gone crazy again.”

“Now this is the story I’ve been waiting for.” Haylee winked, enraptured by what Cherish had withheld.

A settled feeling moved into Cherish’s chest, a warm comfort that she had missed for the last few years. She’d needed this, probably more than anyone—other than Stuart—could have expected. Damn her brother for always being right.

“I’ve got fifteen minutes to the gala to tell you, so you better listen up.”

Cherish wasn’t sure what had possessed her, but she wasn’t sure she hated this feeling of calm. As the car started to move, the heater warming Cherish’s chilled toes, she tried to figure out where the best place to start was.

Haylee didn’t even miss a beat. “So, what happened? Exactly?”

nineteen

Everything.

The one word kept ringing through Cherish’s mind. Last year had been Febe’s final straw, and Cherish hadn’t known how to help her. It’d been beyond her capabilities, and it had shattered both of them. Haylee couldn’t know any of that, and yet, Cherish had promised her that information. But who was it for?

Febe?

Or Cherish?

Biting her lip, Cherish stared out the window at the dark sky and city lights as the limo drove through town. She was wasting so much time. And she was never one to do that.

“Cherish?” Haylee prompted, no doubt wanting exactly what Cherish had promised.

“It’d been eighteen months, and so we thought she’d be okay.”

Cherish clenched her fingers together tightly. Haylee rubbed her palm over Cherish’s hands, prying them open to grasp them and lift them to her lips for a tender kiss. How could Haylee know that was exactly what Cherish needed?

“She wasn’t. The gala was later in the year, and it coincided closely with Bernie’s birthday. And Febe had just gotten the news that she was going to be a step-grandmother. As happy as she was, it was also this heavy reminder of everything that Bernie was going to miss out on.”

“How did she die?” Haylee’s voice was so soft.

Cherish leaned into the gentle caress of Haylee’s caring. Sighing, Cherish closed her eyes and rested her head back into the seat. She spoke from memory, holding in the tears that wanted to wash her clean of all the grief she’d been holding in. “Bernie was sick when they met. She’d been sick for a long time, and even though we knew she was going to die, Febe still married her. Like I said, Bernie is the love of Febe’s life.”

“That’s awful.”

“Is it, though?” Cherish turned her head toward Haylee, locking their eyes together. “Febe would say It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”

Haylee’s face pinched. “I don’t know about that.”

“Me either.” Cherish gave a wan smile. “I guess at least we agree on that.” It was confirmation that whatever they were doing was simply for this moment. They wouldn’t take it beyond a few short nights together. Flipping her hand, Cherish wrapped her fingers around Haylee’s. “But that’s Febe’s stance.”

“And the gala?”

“Right. The gala.” Cherish blew out a breath. “She was supposed to give a speech about the Holbrook Foundation and why she’d started it, but she couldn’t. She got drunk before the gala even started. I helped her up to the podium, and she couldn’t make it more than two sentences in. She gave up.”

“She was grieving,” Haylee defended. “I can’t believe she thought she could do something that impossible.”

Cherish raised an eyebrow. “This is Febe we’re talking about.”

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