Okay. I feel great, actually. The past few weeks, I’ve had more energy and haven’t had a bedridden day. I don’t know what’s changed, but I’m grateful for it.
Me:
Hope it lasts.
I let the words settle, rereading them once. And then again. My chest loosens just a little.
“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Merrick asks, sipping on a green bottle of beer, his eyes intense as they watch me from across our booth at the Round Table.
I give a grin back, not wanting to talk about it.
“Hello, Earth to Roman.” Merrick laughs, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “You keep zoning out mid-brood and I’ll have to start praying for divine intervention.”
“Someone must be more important,” Rosalie says as she sets down a fresh drink in front of Merrick with a smirk.
I glance down at my phone, my fingers gripping it so tightly my knuckles ache.
I texted Juliette.
Again.
But she hasn’t replied.
Ever since I cornered her in the bathroom the other night, she’s gone radio silent. It’s driving me fucking crazy, wondering if she’s done with me now.
She wouldn’t.
At least, I don’t think.
I deserve her silence.
The art’s causing a bit more fallout than I expected. Or maybe it’s going exactly as planned, and I just have my heart in the mix now, so it feels messier.
I’m starting to feel like my dad didn’t tell me huge portions of the situation on purpose, like I’m painting blind and hoping for the best. And that makes me question things. Makes me feel like I’m not helping to dismantle a machine, but acting like just another cog.
Still, Brooklynn is feelinghealthy.Happy.She’s taken care of now, no matter what.
And my mom is getting help.
So, I’ll do what I need to do.
I slide my phone in my pocket and sip from my drink.
Benjamin’s late, not that I particularly miss his brand of company, and I’m about to ask where he is when he walks into the room from the back hallway, smirking at Genevieve behind the bar while Lance says something to her with a serious face.
There’s something happening there with Lance and her.
He lightly grips her arm and she snips something with a sharp look. He grins at whatever it is, and my brows shoot to my hairline.
I’ve never seen him smile before.
Art Penngrove walks out from the back hallway next, and when he moves toward them, Lance’s smile fades, and he drops Genevieve like she’s burned him and turns his back.
Benjamin claps Lance on the shoulder like they’re friends and laughs before making his way over to us.
My gaze stays on Juliette’s brother, anger resonating deep, because why is it fine for him to mix company but impossible for Juliette and me?
I know Benjamin doesn’t have the last name “Montgomery,” but he’s still onourside of things.