Page 83 of Love Finds Home

“Okay,” she whispers.

“You deserve love. You deserve the whole fucking package. And if you want kids, you have kids! Who cares if they don’t come out of your vagina? There are a lot of babies out therelooking for the love of a mom and you have all the love in your heart to give.”

“But—” she starts, but I quickly interrupt her.

“You are a fucking beautiful goddess, and you have no idea. You don’t see what I see. You didn’t see all the hippie, artsy guys at the gallery staring you up and down, wanting nothing more than to love every inch of your body and curves. You do not have to put up with the bullshit. You do not have to put up with him alienating you from your friends. I’m honestly amazed he let you come here tonight without giving you shit.”

“Well,” she cringes, “he gave me a little before smiling and telling me to have fun.”

“That’s bullshit, Gin. You deserve the fucking world,” I tell her again. “And I hate to sit here and watch you settle. It’s not fair to you. And one day when he raises his hand at you because you pissed him off over something stupid—if he hasn’t already,” I quickly add when I see her eyes flare wide, “what will you do then? Because he will hurt you, one way or another. Will you have anyone to turn to? Will you be able to walk away? Because walking away now is so much easier than after he fully cuts you off from those of us who love you.”

She sits there, tears running down her face. I seem to be good at making people cry these days, and I scoot over on the couch, pulling her into my arms.

“I only do this because I love you. You have become like a sister to me and the thought of you getting hurt breaks my heart. I don’t want to watch you settle because some idiot has gotten into your head and told you that’s all your worth. No man—or woman—dictates your worth other than yourself. And your worth? Priceless.”

“And what if I marry him?” she asks through her tears.

“Then I’ll be there with you. I’ll be there at your side, supporting you. And I can promise, no matter what he does andno matter how bad he treats me, no matter how much he talks about me, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be there when you need me. Whenever you need me. And so will Trish and Lottie. They haven’t deserted you, either. I know they worry about you, just like I do.”

“I’m so glad you dated a shithead and left the city,” she wails, hugging me back.

I laugh. “I’m so glad I dated a shithead, too.”

“Shitheads are so much worse than assholes.”

“I am kind of fond of assholes these days.”

“I don’t have an asshole, do I? He’s a shithead,” she cries.

“He really is. But he’s your shithead until you decide he’s not.”

“I think I’m ready for the rum now,” she laughs on a sob.

“Sure thing. You want it mixed or solo?” I laugh with her, tears running down my own face.

“Shots,” we say at the same time.

I pull her up off the couch and we’re walking to the kitchen when the lights go out.

“What’s happening?” Ginny asks, no longer sad, but panicking. “Why’s it dark? Elle? Why are the lights out?”

“I don’t know Ginny. But we’re okay.” I tell her this even when the pit of my stomach has bottomed out.

“No. We need to get out of here, Elle. We need to get out of here. Now.”

She runs to the front window and looks at her place across the street. She’s shaking and has fresh tears in her eyes.

“There’s no light on over there, either. There’s no power on the street. We need to go somewhere with lights.”

“Okay. Okay.” I go to her, pulling her into a hug. “Let’s go to the studio. I know the back way on foot. Does that work for you?”

“Yeah. Let’s go. Bring the rum?” she tries to laugh.

“I got you.”

I grab her hand and make sure my phone is in my pocket, grabbing the bottle of booze on my way out the back door. The studio is my safe place. It can be hers, too.

Chapter 30

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