Page 63 of Wild and Bright

“Of course, you have your own unique beauty. And you have that feisty personality that draws men in. You can tell them off and still make them eat out of the palm of your hand. You’ve always had that quality—even when you were fourteen years old—and it’s a rarity. I never had that. But you know what I’m talking about, honey, right?”

It’s only when I feel a trickle down my cheek that I realize how much she got to me.

“Camden has all kinds of women throwing themselves at him now, and while he may still have a little bit of a crush on you left over from your teenage years, it won’t last. And I’m not saying that to hurt you. I’m really not. I’m saying this because I’m worried about you, and I want you to protect yourself. I want you to guard your heart from him. I wish I had done that all those years ago. Do what I was too smitten and too much of a pushover to do. Make Camden work for you. Make him still think about you years from now, long after this fling between you is over.”

I take another deep breath, but it does nothing to calm my rage. I straighten my spine, clenching my teeth. “I thought you were jealous before, but now I’m convinced.”

“Mothers can’t be jealous of their daughters. You should know that. Our daughters are extensions of ourselves. Their joy and their pain is ours, too.”

“If my pain is yours, why are you going out of your way right now to make me feel like shit about myself? Why remind me that you used to be objectively gorgeous, while I only have my own unique beauty? For that matter, why are you so obsessed with what you used to look like? You aren’t beautiful anymore. You’re old and wrinkly, and no one cares how beautiful you used to be. When you tell your stories, when you show off your old modeling pictures, people think you’re pathetic. I feel sorry for you when I see it in their faces.” As soon as the words are out, I inhale a shaky breath, and another trickle of liquid falls down my cheek.

“I can see that I hurt your feelings, and that wasn’t my intention.” Her voice is just above a whisper. The hurt in it is plain, and even in my agony and rage, I still hate myself for coming unleashed. I can’t do this anymore. If I don’t gain some self-control, I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.

And my impulsivity has already cost me enough.

EIGHTEEN

Camden

As I walk through the door, their chattering voices echo from the kitchen. My chest seizes with that familiar, bitter-sweet pain. Home never felt like this before the two of them moved in.

It wasn’t home.

I forced myself to go to the Oakland show without Lauren in an attempt to prove that I don’t need her with me all the time. But I ached for her the whole trip. I’d reach out across the bed in the middle of the night, my stomach sinking when I found nothing. I checked her phone location throughout each day like it was my job to know where she was.

There’s no denying it any longer. I can’t let her go. Even when it’s dangerous to keep her. Because as much as I fear what she’ll do when she’s out of my sight, when I’m with her, my normally racing mind is hushed. She makes me feel like the whole world is soft and cool and quiet, like a walk on the beach before sunrise.

Nothing else has the power to make me feel that way, not even music.

I need her.

I need both of them.

When I walk into the kitchen, Cadence jumps up from her seat at the table. “Uncle Cam!” she shouts before rushing over to me and wrapping her arms around my legs. “I’m so happy you’re here. My mommy’s making ice cream with your ice-cream maker. I wanted her to make it yesterday, but the bowl thing wasn’t frozen, and I cried a lot.”

“Yes, she did,” Lauren cuts in, her tone accusing. She glares at me, holding what looks like a metal bowl in the air. Her face is strained, her shoulders tense, and it makes me want to reach out and take her into my arms. “You need to keep this piece in the freezer at all times. Or else you can’t make the ice cream for twenty-four hours, and let me tell you, to a four-year-old, that’s a fucking eternity.” She winces before turning to Cadence. “Sorry, Cade. I shouldn’t have used that word.”

Cadence frowns up at me. “She says that word all the time.”

I fight a smile. “Not all the time.”

“No, I do,” Lauren says, her speech rapid. “Because I’m a hot mess of a mother, which is what you were really thinking, and you know it.”

After patting Cadence’s back, I walk over to where Lauren stands at the counter. “Well, hello to you, too.” I grip her by the waist and pull her in for a kiss.

As soon as her lips touch mine, I know. I know that moment in the hotel bathroom is still between us, like it has been for the last few weeks. I find myself frantically searching my mind for a way to fix it.

She turns away from me. “I’m sorry.” She opens the fridge and pulls out a carton of milk. “I don’t mean to bite your head off when you just got back. But my mom came over to see Cadence earlier, and she was acting like a raging…” Lauren glances at Cadence and then back at me. “C-U-N-T, and I—”

“I know what that means!” Cadence shouts.

Lauren’s brow furrows as she looks at Cadence. “No, you don’t.” She looks back at me. “She really doesn’t, I promise. I’m not that much of a hot mess. Anyway—”

“Yes, I do,” Cadence says. “It means…” She puts her hand over her mouth as she whispers, “Bitch.”

Unable to help myself, I burst into laughter, and Lauren’s strained expression finally begins to soften. A small smile rises to her lips. “Sort of, honey.” Lauren’s voice is tight, as if she’s holding back laughter. “But it’s a naughtier word. A word Mommy really shouldn’t call your grammy.”

When my laughter eventually subsides, I see that Lauren’s mood has lightened, and it sends a thrill down my spine. I need the harmony we’ve found these past two months.

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