Page 115 of Spindrift

ShannonDonovan could have dropped a live grenade in her daughter’s bedroom and hadless impact than that sentence.

Onceupon a time, falling in love had felt like discovering magic. Now it felt likea boulder sealing the mouth of her tomb. It had happened again: she’d fallenfor someone who wouldn’t stick around. Yes, she told herself she had known thatwas a risk. That didn’t diminish the urge to point her boat straight out to seaand stop only when she ran out of gas or reached a distant shore. She couldn’tgo through another heartbreak. Not so soon.

“Haveyou heard anything I just said?” Stevie asked on their drive home from theirlast appointment.

“No.”She didn’t bother lying.

“Loveyou too, buddy.”

“Wereyou talking aboutGame of Thronesagain?”

“Itended, dipshit. Doesn’t matter. I thought you said dinner with your folks wentfine?”

“Itdid.”

“Whyare you pissed off, then?”

“I’mnot pissed off.”

“Sure.”

“Fine.You’re pissing me off as of right now,” said Morgan.

Stevie’stemper flared to match. “I’m not the one ignoring her technician.”

“Wereyou talking about work?”

“No,but—”

“ThenI wasn’t ignoring my tech.”

“Justyour friend?”

Sheopened her mouth to snap back, aware that her anger was misplaced and thatStevie was one of the few people who loved her unconditionally.Get ittogether. Hold your tongue. Be reasonable.A grunt emerged instead of aninsult.

“Well,let me know when you’re done. Your brooding bullshit doesn’t turn me on,Donovan. It’s annoying, and you’re too old for that shit.”

“Really?You’re callingmeimmature?”

Somuch for reasonable.

“Adultstalk about their problems.”

“Becauseyou do that all the time?” She knew she needed to stop herself before she saidsomething unforgivable. If her world was determined to implode, she would needStevie. The balled fist in the center of her chest, however, screamed for atarget, and Stevie was the only person in range.

“Atleast I don’t take it out on my friends.”

Morgantightened her hands on the wheel and did not yell, which took all herconcentration. She did not need this right now. She didn’t need any of this.Not Stevie’s hurt expression, not her mother’s catastrophic meddling, and not Emilia.Pain ripped through her.

Ilove her. I love her and she’s leaving, and if I tell Stevie it will make itreal.

“What,nothing to say to that?” Stevie folded her arms over her chest. Kraken whinedin the backseat, made uneasy by the tension and the raised voices.

“Just—justleave me alone.”

Theypulled into the drive of 16 Bay Road in silence. Stevie jumped out the minutethe tires stopped rolling and slammed the door. Morgan leaned her head on thewheel and closed her eyes. Everything was going wrong.

Aknock on the window startled her upright. Lillian stood outside with aconcerned—and slightly menacing—expression. She thought about telling her tofuck off too, then opened the door. Kraken bolted over her lap and out of thetruck.

---