Page 154 of Severed Rivalry
“I’m always team Sariah, baby. I’ll push you where I think it’s in your best interest, but I’ll never decide for you or override you. Chalk that up to one of the things younger me wouldn’t have known was important.”
“You’re a good man, Cian. I’m honored you chose me. Twice.”
“There was only ever one option. I saw you, and that was that. You were it for me.”
Contentment and ease look good on her.
She won’t like what comes next. But, quite frankly, I don’t either. There are too many loose strings.
“Will you take some time to dig into any loose threads still possible with Connect2Coach today?” It feels like every day is a weekend and every day is a workday right now. There’s so much going on, so much to do, and the only thing I want to do is padlock my doors, wrap the Ocoteas in bubble wrap, and protect them from the world.
She nods. “Sure. But only if you bring me another cup of coffee.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” I kiss the top of her head and shift from behind her. “Be right back.
I hit the back door and find Eleanor pacing and whimpering. “Hey, my girl. What’s wrong?” But I hear it. Moans and cries of “No, no, no” come from Renée’s room. I don’t think, I run.
I push open the door, moving into the room, and call to her. Over and over again, I say her name and over and over again, she thrashes. Finally, I grab her shoulders and shake. “Renée, wake up!”
She opens her eyes and screams.
46
a lot of secondary
Sariah
I hear the scream all the way from the terrace and run, stubbing my toe on a brick in the process. I hop, skip, run down the hall that lines the courtyard to find Cian over a terrified Renée for one second before she throws her arms around him and folds in on herself.
She sobs, and he rocks her, rubbing her back and whispering into her hair. Her knuckles are white as they grip his shirt, and the pain in her voice takes me to my knees.
Eleanor, whose gaze has bounced between the two of them, this whole time, leaps off the bed and comes to me, leaning in. She’s not standoffish with me, but she’s never comforted me before either.
She’s giving me strength when her owner cannot. He’s offering something to my daughter that I couldn’t—strength and security, a masculine presence where she’s had none.
“You’re safe. You’re whole. You’re safe, Renée.”
She sniffles, but says nothing.
“Your mom’s having them too. Did you know that?”
Well, shit.
She pulls back to look at him. “She is?” She turns to face me. “You are?”
Finding the strength to rise, I slide my fingers throughEleanor’s fur before moving to slide onto the bed. “Of course I am, love. I was terrified.”
“Ayla knows somebody. She thinks she can help you if you want to talk to her. She helped Ayla—actually she’s still helping Ayla—after she went through something scary last fall,” Cian says.
“Can she come over for breakfast?” Renée asks.
“The therapist?” he replies.
“No.” And the first hint of a smile hits my daughter’s face. “Ayla.”
“Given a good bribe of coffee, Ayla will do anything.”
“I’m sorry,” Renée says to Cian, looking at the tear stains on his shirt.
