Page 36 of Fierce Love
“You two have been together a long time?”
“Longer than I ever thought possible,” she says with a laugh. “I was not a relationship person before I met him. But we just—I don’t know—we work. We have a lot of respect for each other’s hopes and dreams. We’re proud of each other, and I’d never had a real partner before. But he is—he’s my partner. He’s the first and last person I want to talk to, every day.”
It’s been years since I’ve let myself think of Nate, of what we had, when someone mentions how great their relationship is, but that’s where my mind goes now. The ache that blooms across my chest and zips down into my stomach is a reminder of why I’ve kept such careful control over any thoughts of him. Whenyou throw away the best thing that’s ever happened to you, it’s hard to face that day in and day out.
Posey and Brent’s relationship is exactly what I think I would have had with Nate if it had been allowed to flourish, if we’d been able to keep growing together in the same direction.
Maybe we wouldn’t have, though. Maybe we’d have grown apart. How many people actually make it all the way with their high school love? There were a lot of obstacles back then, even if Nate brushed them aside like they were a mirage only I could see.
But what happened in the steam room earlier has me spiraling with deep, introspective thoughts that’ll probably never have a concrete answer.
I made choices, and this is where we’ve landed.
“We’re getting married at the end of production in September. Everything is all planned, so make sure you stick around for that. You’re invited,” Posey says. “What about you? Do you have a plus-one for the invite?”
“Not for a long time,” I say with a shrug. “Relationships haven’t really been my thing either.” In fact, I got quite good at playing games and avoiding commitment in New York. Work and Kinsley kept me as busy as I could handle, and any man who managed to wiggle into the cracks was squished out without much fanfare. “My priority has been taking care of my sister.”
“Hopefully your time here will be good for the two of you,” she says as our drinks arrive, and the waiter sets them on the tables.
“Should we tip him?” I ask as he leaves us.
“All taken care of,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Nathaniel made sure everything was included.”
“Right,” I say with a nod, and then I take a tentative sip of the drink. Immediately, I’m transported back to my childhood, to sitting at my aunt’s worn kitchen table, anticipation bubbling in me for my favorite drink. The tea always had to rest long enoughto finally be drinkable, but I could never get a straight answer on how long was long enough, which might be part of the reason I could never replicate the taste. The drink in my hand is as close as I’ve ever had anyone else come to my aunt’s blend. It fills me with sad nostalgia.
“I worry about my sister being here,” I say without thinking, the words tumbling out at the visceral reminder of my childhood.
“Why?” Posey finishes her first drink with a long gulp.
“My parents are master manipulators. They had my aunt wrapped around their finger. They were always trying to lead my aunt down the wrong path.”
“You haven’t had much to do with your parents while in New York?”
“Nothing,” I say. “Kin hasn’t seen them, other than the other week at the funeral, since she was really little. She was in foster care for a few years before I could get custody.”
“Your aunt couldn’t take her in?”
“No.” Kin’s foster parents were friends of my aunt’s, so that part wasn’t so bad, I don’t think. Ihope. Kin doesn’t remember much about any of that. I didn’t want my sister to have the upbringing I had. A tie between my aunt and my parents, as well as a source of guilt and stress. I didn’t want Aunt Verna to take Kin out of the system because I knew I’d do it as soon as I was done with school. And that’s what I did. “I took over responsibility for her when I could,” I say, “and I ran far away from my parents.”
“I would say it’s only for a few months and how much damage could they do, but I don’t tempt fate like that.” She lays back in the lounger and closes her eyes to the sun. “My family is pretty chill, mostly, and so is Brent’s.”
That reminds me of how not chill Nate’s family is. His siblings were often okay, but his parents… they were a much different story.
“I don’t know how I would have turned out if I’d been raised in the Tucker family. It’s a miracle Nathaniel and most of his siblings are good people. My mother is a force to be reckoned with,” Posey says, splaying her hand across her chest, “but Celia Tucker is in her own realm. When that woman wants something—look out.”
Truer words have never been spoken.
“Still,” Posey says, “it’s a shame about what’s happening to her now.”
“What do you mean?” Tension rises across my shoulders. My feelings about Celia Tucker are incredibly complicated.
“She has some sort of kidney disease or sickness? It’s not cancer, but I don’t know what it is. Basically, she might need a kidney transplant.”
I digest the news slowly while I sip my drink, trying not to appear overly invested even though my heart is pounding and my brain is rapidly firing questions that I haven’t let leave my mouth. “A transplant is serious.”
“Very,” Posey agrees. “Luckily, Ava and Nathaniel are a match, so the family has options. She’s not going to die from whatever this is.”
“Nathaniel would give her his kidney.” It’s a statement of fact. There’s no world in which he’d let his mom die, letanyonedie.
