Page 22 of Seeking Peace

Sighing, I take a bite of cake. "I finished high school at age thirteen and graduated from college at eighteen with degrees in business and political science."

"Jesus Christ." Glory looks stunned. "How the hell did you end up here?"

"Glory!" Grace admonishes her best friend

"What? I didn't mean it like that." Glory looks back at me. "I'm sorry, Ember. I didn't mean it like that."

I laugh. "It's okay, Glory. I know what you meant, and I'm not offended. And I'm not ashamed of who I am or my role here. Trust me, I know what most people see when they look at me or find out what I do or have done for the club."

"Ember, I'm sorry. I honestly didn't mean…" Glory tries to explain.

"I know." I smile. "Nobody in this room has ever made me feel less-than. Never. And I'm grateful. The truth is, I love my life." I look at the women I consider my friends. "This club is my family. You all have accepted me from day one. This club has treated me better than the ones I share DNA with. With you and the guys, there are no expectations, no appearances to keep up, nobody demanding I be better and do better. I can just be me. Ya know?"

Emerson stands and walks over to sit by me. "I know first-hand what it's like to be weighed down by expectations. Though, I was lucky to have parents who eventually saw how toxic their behavior was and how it was driving a wedge into our relationship."

"Do you still see your parents?" Sofia asks. My heart breaks for Sofia, having lost her parents so tragically at a young age. "No." I shake my head. "Not for years. They disapprove of my lifestyle. I do have a relationship with my sister, though." I smile at the thought. "Scarlett is amazing. She's in college and is dating a mechanic."

"I bet your parents love that," Glory says sarcastically.

I laugh. "They don't know. She's been seeing him for a while. Keith is great, and he's good to my baby sister."

"What is she studying?" Grace asks.

I roll my eyes. "Political science, and she hates it. Dad wants her to become a lawyer, and he's basically pushing everything he'd hoped for me on Scarlett."

Mila huffs. "Why can't parents just let their kids be what they want? I'll never force my children to be anything but who they are." She looks at me. "Is your sister happy with what she's doing?"

"Hell no. She hates it. Scarlett has dyslexia. Every day at school is a struggle for her, but my parents ignore it. She wants to go to a fashion design school. I've been trying to convince her to move out here and let me send her to school, but she refuses. A part of me knows she wants to say yes. The problem is my little sister has a fear of disappointing our parents. That and they’re good with the guilt trips."

"What do your parents do?" Bella asks.

I pick at the imaginary lint on my shirt. "My father just announced his run for Governor for the state of Georgia, and my mother is a homemaker slash southern belle society wife."

"Holy shit." Bella gapes.

"How did we not know all these things about you?" Alba asks.

Bella answers, "Because we're shit friends, that's how."

"No, you're not," I tell her. "I'm bad about keeping my personal life tight-lipped because it simply hurts too much to think about." I'm quiet for a second before adding, "But I'm learning it's nice to open up and share."

The room falls silent. Some women are smiling, and some are holding back tears.

"Damn, girl. I'd have brought more wine if I’d known we would get deep. I just wanted to know if you and Blake were doing the nasty and hoping for a few freaky sneaky details."

"Glory." I laugh. "You're crazy."

"I need another drink." Alba reaches for the margarita pitcher sitting beside my open laptop. I watch in horror as her eyes dart to the screen because my stupid self left it open. "Oh. My. God," she breathes.

I jump and slam the top closed on the laptop.

"What?" Bella asks.

"Oh my god," Alba says again.

"It's nothing," I nervously try to deflect.

Glory eyes me curiously. "What's nothing?"

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