She sighs. “And you blew up. Well, I can’t say I blame you, but I do say you should’ve spoken up sooner. Sometimes, we don’t speak up until we’re ready to blow, and shit just goes wrong. How did he react?”

I roll my eyes. “Defensive. He wants to protect his Ayla, and honestly, I get that. I just hate that it’s an excuse not to go deeper with me. We’re not even going places, Lauren. He works all day, as do I, and in the evenings, he’s home. As inventive as I can get, I want to go out and do things. I don’t want to feel like we’re just fucking.”

Lauren nods. “Yeah, but he may not even notice that’s what he’s doing.”

I open my mouth, but she raises a hand.

“However, you pointed this out to him. The ball is in his court. Let’s see what his reaction is. While we wait, you need to decide what you want. If he comes back and says he can’t do what you want right now…”

“I’ll tell him let’s revisit this when he can, but I’m putting myself out there.”

“Yes, that’s fair. You don’t need to shelf yourself for anyone. You’re too valuable. But Ollie is a smart guy. I’m betting he comes back after reanalyzing, and things will change.”

“Lauren, Ayla’s way too important to him. He’s not going to do that.” I shrug like the last sentence isn’t burning a hole in my stomach.

She smiles. “Want to bet? You always lose to me.”

My nephew’s wailing is loud enough to reach me, but I know better now than to rush inside in a panic. Because nothing’s wrong. He hasn’t been dropped. Cam and Adri are not being robbed or kidnapped. Cam’s junior version is just a crier, which, according to Adri, is exactly how Bron was as a baby.

It’s hard to imagine, though. My niece is pretty much sunshine and love all the time.

That’s why I smile and linger in my car, checking out the views on my latest video. Soon, I’ll be inside, hugging and kissing on him until he stops crying. My video has already reached six million views. I can’t believe my impromptu video with Lauren is getting this kind of attention.

After Mrs. Davies left, we were so hyped on what we had just achieved that we went live on Instagram, talking about our favorite pampering items and trying some of Autumn Lush’s new gift set products. We also recorded it, and I posted it to my YouTube channel. It’s better I snagged the video and posted it than some random person. I benefited from my organic content and unique views.

I’m watching the part where we hit the champagne for what we internally called a wink celebration, because the collection was ready to go to her seamstress for production. Chase had to pick us up and take us home. But the content is some of my best. I fell asleep fast and didn’t have time to think of my possible breakup.

My phone goes off, and my heart skips a beat at the unknown number. Could it be Ollie from his hotel room?

I answer, half knowing I’m being ridiculous, half too excited to contain.

“Hello. You have a call from an inmate at Jessup Correctional Facility. Do you accept the charges?”

The robotic voice echoes in my ears, and I stare at my phone. The skin on my cheeks feels like it’s been peeled back. It’s Walter. My finger hovers over the red icon. Do I hang up?

The message repeats again, and I don’t think. I answer, “Yes.”

The line connects.

“Luciana?”

How can a voice so low bring so many memories?

“It’s me, Walter. How are you?”

“There’s my girl.” His words are color in a smile, and the memory hits me hard.

I’m four years old, and we’re playing in the pool. Cam and Chase are racing to the other side. Walter swings me in the air and lets me fall into the water, but quickly, his hands slip under my arm, and I only go waist deep.

My laughter rings out, and I beg, “Again, Daddy. Again.”

He swings me up again, and I’m free-falling.

“Luciana? Are you there?” The memory comes crashing down.

I clear my throat. “I’m here, Walter. What do you need?”

His sigh fills the line. “I need to see my daughter. Come see me.”