Page 94 of Destiny

“Not particularly. Why don’t you come over to my place, and I’ll make you some eggs? You know I don’t ever have bacon.”

“Too bad I can’t have one of your almond croissants,” he says, “but the bakery’s closed.”

“I have some in the freezer. I’ll put one in the oven for you. Come on over, Brendan. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby. I’ll be there in a sec.”

I head to my bedroom and look in the mirror. My face is a mess. My eyes are swollen, and my nose is red. I cried last night, and I’m not even sure why. Some of it was because of Brendan because I thought I had destroyed what we had. But I haven’t. I can hear it in his voice. But a lot of it wasn’t Brendan. It was just me. Just Ava. I let my grandmother mess with my head. And I let the cards mess with my head. I doubted myself. I doubted who I am.

But no more.

I’m nothing like my grandmother, and I amnother progeny. Not in the way she means.

She still, even in her old age, has a brilliant mind, a manipulative mind.

And I almost let it happen.

But I won’t.

I absolutely willnot.

I was right about the cards. I’m not changing. I’m emerging. And the realization of who my grandmother truly is proves that.

Brendan has seen me at my worst, and this won’t matter to him. I quickly pull on some baggy jeans and a tank top with no bra. I leave my feet bare.

I head back out to the kitchen, not even glancing at the cards on the table, and I pull out an almond croissant from the freezer. Then I pull out another. I’ll join Brendan. I need to eat. I make him some eggs, pour him a glass of orange juice, and brew a pot of coffee.

And something occurs to me.

I feel more like myself in this moment than I have in the last couple of weeks.

Making breakfast for the man I love.

Instead of trying to figure all this other stuff out.

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

Sometimes a crazy person is just a crazy person.

And sometimes I am just me—a person who’s constantly growing. Life is a journey.

Ava Steel. I may not be descended from Daphne Steel, but I am who I always was. The daughter of Ryan and Ruby, and though I’m the granddaughter of Wendy Madigan, that does not have to change my life.

And I will not let it.

I’m emerging as Ava Steel—a woman who knows her true genetic background but who will not let herself be defined by it.

My phone buzzes with a text. It’s Brendan.

I’m here at the door.

I go down, let him in, and then I melt into his arms.

He embraces me, his warmth a welcome respite.

“You okay?” he says.

“Now that you’re here, I will be.”

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