Page 83 of All The Way Under
My new sailboat, even more ostentatious than the last, bobs in our harbor. It is a taunting of sorts. I slam my eyes closed.
“I could walk away from this. I have my own money now. I could move away with him.”
“His life is here, Saylor. His base. His family. It’s here. You wouldn’t take him away from that.”
I hear her stand from my bed and walk to stand next to me.
“Plus, you can’t leave your family. You’re loved.”
“So…marry Archie and be miserable? Try to forget true love exists? That’s the easy, safe option?”
Bianca is the one who responds. “No. That’s not an option. Archie Beaumont is an evil nitwit. I prohibit you from entertaining that proposal in the least,” she says, clomping on my hardwood with her high-heeled mules. “Saylor,” she deadpans.
I spin, my discontent evident in every fiber of my being.
“Bianca,” I reply.
She looks out the window, then back at me, the resolution finalized.
“I want to apologize for the part I played in what happened at the party with Archie. I stayed away this long because Bronwyn said it would be best to give you space, but I heard this whole conversation because I’m nosy, and you need to go get that man. I don’t care what’s easy, or what everyone thinks, or what the PR team says. This has gone on long enough. If it’s meant to be, it will be, no matter how hard it is.”
“You mean that?” I ask, unable to hide my shock.
She presses her lips together. “Do I lie, Saylor?”
“Yes,” Bronwyn and I charge at the same time.
She rolls her eyes. “Oh god, white lies don’t count. Those are required to keep feelings and save face.”
I have to hand it to her. She’s acting civil and normal, so I believe her.
“If I listened to all the people in my ear about your dad, you wouldn’t be here right now, so I mean it. This suffering has gone on long enough.” Mom looks at me up and down. “And I’m not sure how much longer you’ll last looking like that.”
There she is.
“I love you, and I know I don’t always show it, but I mean that too.”
“I love you too, Mom,” I reply.
She approaches slowly, steps tentatively, then she wraps me in a hug that lasts longer than any I remember in recent memory.
“You do need a shower. And a toothbrush,” she adds. “Some Givenchy perfume and a nice sundress, and you’ll feel like a billion dollars.”
I step out of her embrace.
“I shouldn’t worry about how this will affect Brody?”
“Let him worry about that. We’re Wyndham women. Men make a way or make room. Trust in your heart.”
“Wow, Mom. This may be the best advice you’ve ever given,” Bronwyn says, letting a giggle slip. “It’s almost an out-of-body experience hearing it.”
“Yes, well, someone had to tell her the truth, and you were doing a poor job of it. Oh, we sold all of the paintings, in case no one told you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Bronwyn replies. “Thanks for the party too. Edmund is over the moon. He had a feeling the paintings sold would provide enough capital for another studio.”
Bianca Wyndham returns, smiling at Bronwyn. “I aim to please. There was also a very sizable donation sent to the SpecialWarfare command too. In Brody’s honor, for his part in saving you.”
I sit on my bed and scrub my hands down my face. I do need a shower.
