Page 92 of When Sparks Fly

I don’t mention Sutton. Not because he doesn’t matter, he matters more than I care to admit, but Stephanie will assume my entire choice is based on a man. I don’t care if she thinks I’m foolish, but a part of me wants to protect Sutton because I love him.

I love him.

“Friends come and go.”

“Not these friends.”

A huff. She leans forward and places her hand atop mine. Ice flows into my veins. “This isn’t the right place for you.” Her eyes are insistent, still wide, and there’s a level of anxiety in her voice.

What the hell is going on with her?

I place my other hand on top of hers and lean forward, holding her gaze purposefully. “Iwishwe had a relationship where I could come to you and you could advise me on my life. But that’s not us. You don’t ask about my work, you’ve never seen my apartment, you don’t care to know my friends, and you’ve repressed anything emotional I’ve ever tried to share with you. You chose your husband over me time and again. Even when it was dangerous. Something you clearly knew.

“So please don’t sit here and act like you care what I do. I wish you did. I always will. Because Ido notunderstand what I could have ever done as a child for you to always find me so inferior. But I have come to terms with our relationship.” My voice is barely a whisper when I finish. Tears line her lower lids, but she blinks them away. And I do not feel sorry for her. She drove us to this cliff.

Abruptly, she pulls back and places her hands back into her lap. Her stoic facade has returned.

“I’ve never found you inferior. I told you, everything I’ve done was to protect you. To provide stability for you.”

I stare at her for a long moment. “So having emotions would put me in danger? Showing me love would make my life unstable?”

She shakes her head and looks up at the sky like I’m being ridiculous. “It’s not that simple.”

“Of course not.” I don’t know what the point of this lunch was. “So what now? Randi sells the house and you never have to come back? You’redone raising me. Apparently I’m safe enough because you never reach out. You don’t want to know me.” My questions hang between us.

Stephanie swallows thickly. Her voice comes out quieter than I’ve ever heard. “I didn’t know how hard it was going to be.” Her eyes fall to the brick patio and I suspect she’s trying to hide more tears forming. When she looks at me again, it’s like she’s finally lookingatme. Seeing me. “You look just like your father. Every day was more unbearable.”

My brows scrunch. “You…you don’t like me because I look like my dad?” Pain radiates through me and my eyes burn.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” A tear rolls down her cheek. She’s never cried in front of me and my eyes track the lone escapee down her face until it plummets into her lap. “I love you immensely. So much it hurts. Every day was a reminder of losing the life I had planned. But I had to be strong for us.”

The server sets our food on the table and scurries off, knowing she’s interrupting something.

“I don’t like being in Bull Creek because it’s too painful.”

I return my gaze to the people along the river. I have nothing else to say.

A group of motorcycles turns onto River Road from Main Street. The leather cuts all stand out. Instinctively, I scan the riders for Colt, but don’t find him.

Two riders lead the group, side by side. As they pass the restaurant, the one closest to us slides his gaze over the patio. James, the President.

As he did before, he does a double take, this one harder than the last. My brows furrow as he rides past. He wasn’t looking at me.

When we return from lunch, having said little else, I say a cordial goodbye to Stephanie and retreat to my room.

I’ve thrown myself onto the plush bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan when a thought occurs to me. Swiping my phone from the bedside table, I send Randi a quick message.

Me:

I know you’re meeting with Stephanie. Let’s talk before you make a decision.

Randi:

Anything for my favorite niece.

A smile crosses my lips. I don’t reiterate that I’m her only niece.

A short time later, she arrives, her sweet chatter filling the foyer, followed by my mother’s clipped words.

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