Page 8 of Heartless

“You really did a number on yourself, huh?” Lou is in front of me suddenly, her fingers gripping my wrist as she stares at the gauze on my hand like she can see under it to the stitches below.

“What happened?” Her son is quick to notice and hops to his feet, craning his head to the side so he can see my hand. “Did you hurt yourself, Winnie?”

“Cut myself on a broken plate.” It’s the truth, and an easy one. I don’t need to tell them why I freaked out. Not like Lou would believe me, anyway. We haven’t talked about our shared childhood traumas in a long time, and I doubt she wants to dredge up the past now.

No matter how much the topic of Cassian Byers itches on my tongue.

“Ouch,” Scott gasps, reaching one hand out as if to touch it. But I slap his hand away lightly, nose scrunched in a dramatic frown.

“Don’t poke it.” Gently, I extricate my hand from Lou’s grip. “It hurts enough without you making it worse, kid.”

“Go tell your dad it’s time to go, would you?” Lou asks, smiling at Scott in a way that I know means she wants to talk to me without him in the room. But Scott isn’t old enough to understand that yet, or to pick up on the subtle changes in his mom when she’s giving him a fake reason to leave. He runs from the room, calling Roscoe to go with him seconds before I hear his footsteps pounding up the stairs.

As soon as he’s gone, I sink down into one of the stools at the counter, dropping my hand to the granite surface and picking up my coffee again. “I hope you guys have a great time tonight. You’re living like the ideal marriage. Date nights, full-time help, and personal time so none of you get burnt out on each other. Must be nice.”

“It is,” Lou tells me, leaning on the counter across from me. “And it would be still without all of that. I love Dan. And honestly?” Her gaze softens, though her mouth curls into a caring, concerned frown. “I want this for you too, Winnie. I met Dan when I was younger than you?—”

“And it was love at first sight, you guys dated for a year, and you knew all along you were meant to be,” I finish for her flatly. “Yeah, I know, Lou.I was there.” I roll my eyes at her and she gently shoves my shoulder, her frown curving into an amused grin.

“I just wish you’d find someone,” she sighs. “Anyone. I’m not picky, and I know Mom is worried for you, too.”

“Because it would just be terrible to end up alone?” I ask, looking down at the brush against my ankles. Their long-haired Siamese, Minxy, gazes up at me with her crossed eyes, letting out a soft sound much more like a squeak than a meow. “Because it would just be awful of me to end up as the crazy cat lady down the street?” I reach down with my good hand and she rubs against my fingers before trotting away, her bottle-brush tail flicking in the air behind her.

Lou just snorts, not letting herself get roped into an argument with me over this old topic. “Broken plate, huh?” she asks, directing the conversation back to my hand. “What did you do? Grab the broken end?”

“Yep,” I bemoan. “I was super distracted after dropping one of our plastic bins. Picked it up and didn’t realize it had cut me.” I survey the white gauze, flexing my fingers just a little.

“Distracted by what? Some cute guy in the diner?” There it is again. Lou wiggles her brows at me, once again leaning on the counter with interest.

And she’s not…wrong, exactly. But I bite my lip, tapping my fingers on the counter as I listen for sounds of her son or her husband on the stairs. Luckily for me, Dan is keeping Scott entertained upstairs, probably having him help with packing or last-minute preparations.

“Don’t bite my head off or get that look on your face, okay?” I ask, watching Lou’s gaze sharpen. “You know the look I mean. The ‘maybe we should go see your therapist’ look.”

Her brows twitch, eyes narrowing just a bit at my words. She tenses, obviously preparing herself for me to drop some bombshell on her that’s going to have her go into emergency mode with me for the first time in ten years.

But I’m not planning on being that dramatic. “You don’t have to start planning an intervention,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. “I dropped the bin because I was spacing the fuck out. And I cut myself because I…thought I saw someone, okay? Someone I used to know?”

“Who?” Her question is guarded, hesitant, and she searches my face as if she can see the answer there.

But I don’t answer instantly. I shift on the stool, lips quirked in a half frown. “Cassian,” I say at last, gazing down at the plastic cup of iced coffee currently cooling my palms.

And, just like I expect, Lou doesn’t say a word. My eyes flick up to hers and I cock an eyebrow at her, watching her emotions filter through her face as she processes the name. “But I was just seeing things.” I shrug. “When I looked again, it was just some guys across the street that were way too young. It’s just the time of year, you know? I get a little weird around Halloween.”

That’s always been my excuse for any weird behavior in October and honestly? It’s pretty valid.

“Oh,” Lou murmurs. She frowns with that maternal concern again and reaches out to grip the fingers on my uninjured hand. “I’m sorry, Winnie. I know this time of year sucks for you.”

“It’s fine.” I look down at our joined hands, noting the differences between us again. As usual, I can’t help but wonder what I would be like if we’d had the same dad. Her father, our mom’s first husband, had been kind, according to Lou. She remembers him a little, since he’d died when she was eight, then a year later Mom married my dad.

Who was certainlynotkind. To me, at least. Lou had been out of the house by the time things really exploded, and I know she feels guilty for abandoning me, as she sees it in her mind. But I’ve never held a grudge towards her or my mother.

They don’t deserve it.

“Anyway.” I hear footsteps on the stairs and tap her hand, my smile returning. “You need to leave! Go out on your date night, go to your place, and havefun.You don’t need to worry about us.” When Scott comes into the kitchen, I sling an arm over his shoulders. “We’re going to have a great time watching Halloween movies and eating pizza.”

“And ice cream,” Scott adds.

“Ooh and Halloween candy.” His enthusiastic grin meets my wolfish one, and I drag him into a one-armed hug. “It’s going to be the best aunt-nephew bonding session ever.”

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