Page 156 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

It’s how I feel at this point.

People can hate it all they want.

I’m gonna let it burn.

44

Raya

“Oh, you fancy, huh?”

I laugh at Tori. Hell yeah, we’re fancy right now. We’re at the Four Season for a spa day, bitch.

It smells like lavender and money up in here. That was the first thing I noticed when I stepped inside, along with brief bursts of eucalyptus steam and the soft hum of a waterfall feature tucked in the corner. Aunt Tori and I are in our plush, white robes, wrapped so tight I feel like I’m being hugged by a cloud.

She sinks onto one of the lounge chairs, stretching her legs out and crossing her ankles like the queen she is. “Now this is what I’m talking about.” She tilts her champagne flute toward me. “We deserve.”

I clink my glass against hers, watching the bubbles as they catch the light. “You worked hard last month. All that traveling.”

“Girl. Back and forth, picking up shifts, dealing with these crazy ass patients—which I love,” she adds quickly. “This,” she waves her hand around dramatically, “is how I treat myself. And my beautiful niece.”

I flash her a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. Tori always tries to make me feel like I’m her favorite person in the world, and maybe it’s even true, but the older I get, the more it seems like she feels sorry for me. It’s nothing she says or does, it’s just a feeling I get. Like she’s trying to love me extra hard to make up for all the empty spaces inside of me that didn’t get filled by the people whose job it was to love me.

I wish she knew she didn’t have to do that, and I wonder if it’s my fault. The way I move, the way I act sometimes. How does she really see me?

We sip in silence until Tori says, “I talked to Rashad the other day.”

I stare at the bubbles in my glass again, this time watching them climb to the top and pop. “I don’t wanna talk about Rashad.”

“Raya…”

“No.” My voice is firm and sharp, but I soften it because it’s my auntie. “I don’t wanna deal with that today.”

She exhales, then she lets it go. I appreciate it, but the damage is done. My mind goes there anyway, running like a movie I can’t pause.

Rashad is dead to me, and she and he both know why. Tori’s been beating that drum for years, but only because she has to. She loves us both equally, not that I would expect otherwise. He was her nephew for three years before I came along. They’re bonded.

He was my big brother. My protector, or so I thought. But I learned a very painful lesson from him. It was a hard truth that cut like a knife, and that’s this: men will always choose their own. They will always cover for each other.

In a way, I’m glad he didn’t believe me about Daddy. I got to learn that lesson early. So when Ferris came along and put his hands on me, I didn’t expect either one of them to do shit.

And I wasn’t disappointed.

“Okay,” she says. “New subject. How’s my future nephew-in-law?”

I can’t help it. The grin spreads across my face like sunshine. “I’mthisclose to the ring,” I say, holding my thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. “I can feel it.”

She raises an eyebrow, impressed. “So you’ve been letting your guard down?”

“For the most part,” I admit, swirling the last sip of champagne around my glass. “He knows what he needs to know.”

Tori frowns. “He knows you don’t want kids?”

“Does he need to?” I chuckle. “Besides, I will if I absolutely have to. Waaaay down the road. Or, I’ll lie and say I can’t have any. I’ll have to see how I feel.”

She shakes her head.

“I know,” I laugh. “But I’m not…I can’t…” I trail off, searching for the words. “I don’t have it in me to give a man my everything. I just don’t, Auntie. I can’t get hurt again. Ever.”

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