Page 84 of How Sweet It Is

She answers on the first ring. “Holy crap, are you back in the land of the living?”

I laugh, so happy to hear her voice. “Yes. I’m done with everything.”

“Where are you? I want my Claire hug.”

I tell her I’m at the shop, then I go open the front store. It’s a disaster area with wilting flowers and crumpled-up receipts on the floor, and it looks like no one has cleaned since I left. I’m shocked. I mean, I knew I did a lot for them, but was I really doing everything?

The bell above the door dings, and Zoey comes rushing in like a gust of joy and chaos. She’s everything I’m not. She’s tall, blond, and a whirlwind of happiness. She hugs me tight, and I’m painfully reminded of how my mother didn’t even hug me.

“Girl, tell me everything. What happened while you were in witness protection?”

Yeah. My mother didn’t even ask.

I lead her to the little two-person table in the corner of the flower shop, and we sit with steaming cups of coffee I made before she arrived. I start from the beginning, telling her how I got sent to Willow Shade Island, how awkward and angry I was at first, how I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone who I really was. I tell her about the bakery Levi’s opening, and his incessant, over-the-top flirting, and how somewhere between arguments and after-work cleanup sessions, I started falling for him.

Zoey listens with that wide-eyed intensity she saves for juicy drama, but I can see it shift as I talk. Her teasing grin softens into something more serious.

When I finish, she leans back, eyebrows lifted. “Claire. You love him.”

I look away, fiddling with the rim of my coffee cup. “It doesn’t matter. I’m back now. I’m needed here.”

Zoey snorts. “By who? Your mom? The woman treats you like a shift worker instead of her daughter.”

“She needs help,” I say, but even I can hear how weak it sounds. “The shop’s been understaffed, and the trial just ended, and?—”

“Claire.” Her voice sharpens, not mean but certain. “You’re letting her use you as an emotional crutch and free labor. That’s not the same thing as being needed. You’re allowed to want something for yourself.”

My eyes sting, and I blink fast. But I’m the one who stayed. My sister is the one who left. My mother needs me. Right?

“Sweetie,” Zoey says softly. “You’re a good daughter, but your mother doesn’t deserve you.”

We finish talking, and Zoey leaves after giving me another tight hug.

I sit there quietly for a long moment, her words settling like stones in my chest. Heavy. A customer walks in, and I jump up. It’s time to put aside my feelings and do the work that needs to be done.

I work the shop all day, my mother not coming back and my father coming in and out to do deliveries. I don’t get a hug from him either. Shelly, the part-timer, and I get to work on the Wilson wedding. Half the flowers haven’t even been ordered, which took me all day to figure out.

As I work, my gaze keeps going to my phone, and I think about texting Levi. But I don’t know what I would say. I can’t leave, despite what Zoey says. Not with the state of everything here. It’s obvious now that my parents can’t handle the shop without me. The whole Wilson-wedding mess and the explosion of paperwork in the office proves it. This was my greatest fear about leaving, and it’s been realized.

I try to sort out how Levi fits into my life now as I split my attention between sorting invoices and filing receipts. The shop has been bleeding money these last few months, money my parents don’t have. Another two months and I’m sure they would have had to close the shop.

I can’t leave this mess to them. They won’t survive.

CHAPTER 41

LEVI BARRETT — MONDAY, NOVEMBER 9

My phone chimes, and I sit up in bed, my heart pounding. Is it Claire? I pick up the phone from my nightstand but groan and flop backward when I see it’s only Kiki.

Has she contacted you yet?

Kiki’s been bothering me ever since Claire left Willow Shade, giving me updates on the trial, telling me how good we were together and how she’s sure Claire will come back as soon as everything is settled.

But she didn’t stand there and watch Claire’s face as I begged her to come back to me. She wasn’t there when all Claire said was…I’m sorry.

The memory makes my chest ache. It makes everything ache.

It’s my day off, so I roll over and close my eyes, not ready to get up yet. Not that I’ve been asleep. I woke up at four o’clock like a good little baker and have been awake since, staring at the same crack in the ceiling like it holds the answer to everything. The shadows in the room have shifted at least three times, but I haven’t moved. I haven’t gotten up. I haven’t done anything.

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