Page 65 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
“What do you mean?” Her brows furrow.
“I mean,” I say, crossing my legs to fold them beneath me. I wish I had a blanket, even though it’s humid outside. “He didn’t mention anything about the kids. He was all business.”
Her eyebrows go up at that and stay there for several heartbeats before she says, “Wow. That’s weird,” and takes another hit.
“The asshole’s been gone for eight years without once acknowledging them or asking to speak to or see them. Why would things be different now?”
Yennifer nods slowly, tamping the bud down with the edge of her lighter.
“What aren’t you saying, Yenn?” I murmur, leaning into the pillows behind me.
She continues to nod, lighting another bowl and drawing in the smoke deep. When she exhales, she says, “Do you have theories as to why he didn’t ask about them?”
I blink at her.
“Besides the fact he’s simply not a good person?” I throw out.
She shakes her head hard.
“No. Real reasons why,” she presses.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, sitting up and regretting the movement because my head spins from just a few hits. It’s clearly been too long, and Yennifer’s stuff is too strong.
“Are you sure he knows about them, Shae?”
My eyes narrow as I stare at her, and a cold sense of irritation fills me at her completely serious expression.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Yennifer?”
She sighs, scooting to the edge of her chair to face me more clearly. She puts the smoke set next to her thigh on the seat.
“I’m talking about it makes zero sense for this man to be up in your face without acknowledging the two big ass elephants in the room.” My throat starts to tighten.
“He could just be that bold,” I say.
“Or he could just be that blind,” she retorts.
I put my head in my hands, groaning.
“Yennifer, I called him. I called him over and over, left the information on his fucking voicemail. It wasn’t like the phone line had been disconnected. The message still routed to Storm. How could he not know?”
This is Storm, leave a message at the beep. Peace.
That was the recorded note before the long tone I started hearing in my sleep after the twins were born.
“Let’s set aside the emotion. Do you really think a man as family-oriented as Storm Sandoval would just…brush off having not one but two children out in the world? Hear me clearly: I still think he’s a fuck-nigga for what he did to you. However, even if his feelings for you changed, do you think he’s the type of man who’d do that?”
Hot tears line my lower eyelids, but I refuse to let them fall, so instead I look back out to the tree line, focusing on the inky darkness beyond the manicured, vacant garden below.
“I don’t know him at all. Never did,” I offer, controlling my breath.
Yennifer goes silent again, and when I muster the strength to look at her and not start crying, I only make it a few seconds before I have to look away again.
The trees. Be like the trees.
“I feel that,” Yenn murmurs. “Anyhoo, what’s a girl gotta do to tag along to the Palace with the crew? You know I miss my babies, and look at how fortuitous it is that the Universe thought it good to bring us together near the City of Love?”
She throws her arms out, inhaling and exhaling dramatically.
