Page 16 of Sparks Still Fly

My skin crawls at the thought of Catherine being here. My mother isn’t warm and fuzzy. No, she is glacial and sharp. Where my best friend grew up with Eva James, baker of muffins and giver of cheek pats, which make you feel like the only person in the room, I grew up with a real-life ice queen.

Mum never wanted kids, but she ended up pregnant and without prospects, so she trapped the first rich guy she could find and pretended we were his. Since she was pregnant with twins, an early delivery was expected, and no one questioned the timing. The only dad Charlie and I ever knew was enamored enough to not question it, even if neither of us shared any of his darker features.

I hate thinking about what she did to him. About what she did to us when he finally left. All because she couldn’t commit to one man for longer than a couple of years at a time. She always wanted more, constantly reaching for the next exciting adventure as she called her always short-lived relationships.

Taking a deep breath in through my nose, I count to ten and release the air slowly, imagining it’s all the resentment I feel toward the person who has never loved me and my sister more than she loves new, shiny things. I repeat a few more times until it actually starts to feel like the sad feelings are being expelled from my body with the air in my lungs.

I ignore her message, like the previous handful she’s sent sporadically over the last six months.

Things have finally settled down for me since we got back from London, and though I no longer need a bodyguard with me 24/7, Owen was concerned about some creep who kept messaging me on all of my social accounts. Being the cyber security specialist, he’s here now, making sure my Wi-Fi is secure and checking on the security system.

Right now, however, I just wish he would see himself out of my house. Out of my life. But nope. Here he comes, looking like he just stepped off a shoot for Sports Illustrated with his perfectly wavy, dirty blond hair. Yeah. Owen has hair now, and it’s annoyingly always unintentionally perfectly mussed. I know men who pay hairstylists good money for hair Owen surely doesn’t appreciate.

The front door shuts, and the smell of chocolate chip muffins fills the room.

“Look who I found trying to break in.” Owen swings his hand over his shoulder, thumb pointing behind him.

“Oh, fuck off, you big burly beast! I know the code for the gate. It’s not my fault you’ve changed it again, you overprotective bear!” Bon’s sweet voice and colorful language might be my favorite combination, second only to the mix of dark and milk chocolates in her muffins.

“Mae, please tell your bodyguard to chill the fuck out.” She hands him the plate as she removes her purse, then takes her shoes off.

“Not my bodyguard. And he’s your brother, love. I think you have a better chance of him listening to you,” I say from my seat on the couch. “I’ve been trying to get him to cool off with the codes, but it’s no use. Do you know he changes my Wi-Fi password constantly, too? I was trying to watch a sexy movie the other night, and I got kicked off right as it was getting good and raunchy.”

I don’t miss the way his ears turn red at the tips. Teasing Owen James might be the only thing that brings me joy these days. It sure is more fun than ignoring him all the time since his persistent ass doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.

“That was you? I thought someone was trying to hack in. Those sites are littered with spam and viruses, Maeve!” he practically barks at me, then takes a muffin and walks toward the stairs. “Enjoy your girl time. I’m changing the password before I go home. Call me if you have any other issues with the security system, yeah?”

I nod and wave him off with a smile I hope looks convincing. I don’t know how much more of this proximity I can handle. It’s one thing to see him occasionally at dinners, but in my house? With no one else around? It’s overwhelming. But he insists on being the one to handle anything to do with my security. He’s like this with his sister as well, so I don’t think much of it.

Bon sits next to me on the sofa, the plate of muffins on the coffee table. “Hi, Mae.” Her face softens as she takes me in. I’m sure she can see the stress all over my face. I hear the back door click shut, and I know Owen will just see himself out once he’s finished. “You ready to tell me?” I should have known she’d read it all over me. I’ve been an uneasy mess since Owen walked into my flat in London.

I nod, and she moves in closer, taking my hand in both of hers. Her green eyes are kind, patient, but worried. She sensed something was off so long ago now, and she’s probably been worried for no reason, which makes guilt churn in my stomach.

“I’m not sure where to start, if I’m honest.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Everything feels…off lately. I’ve always thrived in this world of constant motion, constant change, but I’m finding myself wondering what it would be like not to be in LA, London or New York for once. I wonder what not having a schedule would feel like.”

She smiles and takes a muffin for herself. I want to swat her hand away because these are mine, after all, but she made them, so I hold back. She remains silent, waiting for me to keep going.

“That little break in Malibu was nice, but it wasn’t enough. I think I’m ready to take a step back. To reassess. I’ve always been married to my career, and I’ve loved every minute of it until…”

“Until you didn’t?” Bon’s kindness has the hot tears stinging my eyes wanting to fall. I hate crying in front of anyone, but the people I love most always seem to pull the tears out of me so easily.

“Yeah,” I say. “It just feels like it’s time for a change, but I have no idea what to do to actually make that happen, or where to start. And what if I take a step back, and I hate that, too? It’s not like I know what I want to do to replace the chaos that is my life at the moment.”

“Wanna make a list? It worked for me!” She looks at me wide-eyed and bushy tailed, probably with a notepad and pen stashed in her back pocket.

“I remember. It was my idea!” I chuckle as I shake my head. “I don’t think I need a list, babe. I think what I need is to get so far away from my everyday life that I can figure out just exactly who I am and what I want, you know?” At this, her whole face changes, and she frowns, blinking rapidly.

“Okay. Wow. I don’t think I saw that coming. I mean, you’re the most self-assured person I know, Mae. It’s one of the reasons you keep succeeding at what you do, you know?” I see the worry in her eyes again, and I hate it. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone with my existential crisis, or whatever this is. “You’ve always known exactly what you wanted, and look at you! You went for it. You made it happen.”

“Well, things don’t feel the same anymore. They haven’t for a while, and I need to figure out what my next steps are going to be. I love what I do, and I don’t want to stop making movies, but…” I look down at her hand, now grasping my own tightly and look up at her. “I don’t think it’s all I’m meant to do. I mean, what else am I doing with my life, you know? Am I going to be married to my career forever? It doesn’t feel like there’s room for anything else. What am I missing because I’m so busy all the time?” I sigh, hating the feeling of uncertainty that clouds everything.

“What can I do to support you?” My sweet Bon, always ready to step into action.

“You’re already doing it. You’re here.” I shrug, but I mean what I say. I just want to be surrounded by my friends, my family.

My best friend nods, then we hug for a long, long time. When she leaves, I feel a little lighter having shared this part of my life with her. She still doesn’t know exactly what happened between me and her brother, but since I decided to pretend it never happened anyway, I don’t think she needs to. I hate keeping any secrets from her. It’s been a heavy weight to carry all these years, but I’m not ready to put any potential cracks in our friendship over a man who blatantly told me he didn’t want me.

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