Page 122 of Perfect Composition
Carys grabs my hand and drags me toward the mirror section. I protest about our purses. She just hushes me. Standing by my side, she asks again, “Who do you see yourself as, Paige?”
I open my mouth, but where I’m prepared to give her my standard answer, I whisper, “I don’t know. So much has changed, I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“And you’ve fallen for a man it appears you don’t know very well either.”
I duck my head to the side, unable to deny the feelings Beckett brought back to the forefront in me. But still I try to push logic forward. “How is it possible to fall in love with someone I barely know? He’s got this golden touch. His life is worth so much.”
“If by worth you mean his mind and his heart, I agree. If you mean his assets, he works hard for what he has and pays dearly for it, often with his privacy and sanity. So many people who have the kind of wealth he does find it almost burdensome. And I also know he’d say you’ve given him something so priceless there is no value, something he’d sacrifice anything for.”
“What’s that?”
“Austyn. The rest of the world might not know who you are—thank God for small favors—but those of us who are closest to him do. You’re a warrior, Paige Kensington. You are the kind of mother they write legends about.”
Before I can protest that all I did was love my unborn child, Carys asks, “Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” Before I can agree, Carys goes on. “I see the best kind of woman. Someone who is a force to be reckoned with. She’s beautiful, wise, and resilient. She has a fount of power that will never dissipate. She’s been wounded in battle, but she still fights with every ounce of energy for those she loves, for those who are needy.”
“She sounds like Wonder Woman,” I joke.
“She might as well be. She’s a mother. In fact, she reminds me a great deal ofmymother, who I miss a great deal. Maybe that’s why Becks and I are such close friends—we were both missing the same kind of woman in our lives.”
My chest tightens, and my knees start to buckle under the force of emotions. “God, Carys.”
“Stop trying to think less of yourself than you really are. You’re more valuable than that.”
I just nod since I can’t speak.
“Now, let Angie coach you about social media’s love of all things Beckett Miller. Let him explain about that stupid photograph. And for all that’s holy, don’t be pissed at us when you find your real housewarming gift waiting at your house when we go there in a few hours.”
“What is it?” I whirl around and face Carys. I want to think about everything she said, but I won’t have that chance until Austyn leaves tomorrow.
“Well, it’s big enough that both Ward and David have to bring it out from the city. Ward and Angie are going to head on to their place in Brewster; David and I will head back to New York. Austyn said she’d be happy to accept a ride from us.”
“I don’t understand. She’s supposed to stay until tomorrow.”
“We figure you might want time alone.”
A sizzling of awareness wells up inside me. “What did you get me?”
Carys squeezes my hand. “Who, Paige. And we’re leaving him without his security team for you two to yell down the house.”
Oh, God.
“Beckett. He’s coming here?”
Carys looks at her watch. “Actually, by my estimation, he should already be here. Should we continue to shop for things, or do you want to go back to your place?”
The distance I shoved between us is enormous, and still he’s trying to breach it. Slowly, I spin around and face myself in the mirror.
And I don’t feel some revelation when I do. But the longer I stand there, the more ready I am to open up the lines of communication I shut down so abruptly. It’s time to let me be me, for Beckett to no longer hide his true self, and let whatever will be happen.
The time for us is fast approaching.
I’m the best me I’ll ever be. And if I find out that’s not enough, then that will be Beckett’s loss. Not mine. But I’ll never know unless I give us a try. The two of us together is going to be hard enough without a self-imposed communication breakdown.
I meet Carys’s eyes in the mirror. “Let’s go.”
Her crafty smile engulfs her face. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Like I said, we’re more alike than I thought.”
On the drive back from HomeGoods, I received a crash course in Angie’s job. “You mean you have to look at all the social media feeds for every client Carys represents every single day?”
