Page 6 of Knot a Good Idea

“There’s something else that’s happening to me,” I add. “I keep experiencing anger like I never have before. Even at Skylar and my mom. I didn’t use to be like this. But it just bubbles up, out of nowhere, and I have to walk away before I say or do something I’ll regret. I hate it.”

My temper is always followed by shame.

“And what do you think causes it?” Sandy already knows, I’m sure, but she wants me to figure it out.

“I’m angry at them, but also at myself.”

“Why at yourself?”

Traitorous tears fill my eyes, and I motion at my face. “Things like this. I used to be so careful with my emotions. I could compartmentalize easily; I couldhandleshit. Now I’m all over the place, over-emotional, and seconds from falling apart. I used to handle everyone else’s crises, now I’m constantly in one.” My voice breaks. “I don’t like it at all. Ihateit. This isn’t me.”

Sandy’s eyes soften, not with pity, but with understanding. “There are two things I want you to work on this week.”

I sniffle. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Giving yourself patience and meeting new people.”

I huff. “I can try,” I mumble.

“Good. Baby steps, April. Grant yourself grace.”

I bite my lip.

I’m not sure if that’s possible.

I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Apparently,granting myself grace isn’t my strong suit.

Especially when I’m clenching my teeth as a customer recognizes me, sympathy crossing their features.

“I’m so sorry for what happened to you,” the woman says. “I can’t believe you went through all of that. How are you feeling now?”

I stand behind the counter as she swipes her credit card. “Better,” I reply. “Thank you.”

“I just…” she shakes her head. “If it were my daughter, I don’t know how I could?—”

“We’ll have that latte right up,” I say quickly, and the customer frowns. Guilt hits me, but I turn from the counter and begin to steam her oat milk.

I just…can’t. It’s too much.

Devyn’s light voice pipes up behind me, assisting another customer, and the guilt doubles.

I still haven’t figured out a way to keep her on payroll and imagining the look on her face when we let her go makes my chest ache.

I haven’t told Skylar yet, either. I’m not ready for her reaction.

Before I went missing, Skylar barely tolerated Devyn. But when I was gone, they became friends, and Skylar and I have become a sort of mentor for the younger Omega. She thrives here; she loves to bake and learn new recipes, and she charms every customer she encounters.

I’m so lost in thought that the oat milk overflows and burns the top of my hand. I slam the steel pitcher down and switch the steamer off before grabbing a wet rag and pressing it to my hand.

Damn it.

I never used to be this clumsy, either.

“April, are you okay?” Devyn asks.

I nod and storm off to the stockroom, my hand screaming in pain. I squint my eyes shut, slow my breathing, and lean against the shelf of almond flour.

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