32
ANNA
“Wow,” Maya says under her breath. “You look hot.”
My heels click against the wood floors when I spin to face her. She ambles into my room and sits on the edge of my bed next to Rosie, who’s got her dog and some old makeup brushes I don’t use anymore.
I smile, staring down at the dark plum satin dress I’m wearing. Originally, I wasn’t going to wear this, but Em and Jenny said they’d both fight me if I wore anything else. I’m glad I listened because I look and feel good.
Jackson is taking me to dinner, and afterward, he wants to take me to Neptune. While I’m open to the idea, I wouldn’t have minded something more low-key. After working all week and being a mom, I’d love to eat pizza or tacos, drink a Coke Zero, and go bowling or to the boardwalk.
We’re at the end of September, the time of year when the leaves change color and the nights become a little cool. So I’d love to savor the warmer weather with a long walk, but I won’t be doing that tonight.
“Thanks. You mind tying this up for me?” I stand in front of her and turn so she can tie the laces in the back.
She tightens them, and when she’s done, I look at her. I immediately notice the shift in her expression, like she wants to say something but is holding back.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She shakes her head, drawing her focus to Rosie.
I bite my tongue, knowing I should probably keep quiet. In the past, anytime this happened, we’d get into it. She’d dissect and judge all my choices. She was especially harsh when I acted in a way she didn’t approve of.
I don’t want to argue—I want us to be okay, but we can’t skirt around this anymore. This isn’t the time to have this conversation, but I won’t be leaving for another hour.
“Before you stopped talking to me, I missed you. I…” I sit down next to her, folding my hands on my lap.
“I desperately wanted to have a relationship, and knowing we didn’t made me miss what we could have had.
When you cut me off, I was mad, but I still missed you.
I never understood what I did wrong, what I could have done to make things better, and I still don’t. ”
I don’t look her in the eye, worried she’ll shut me out.
I hear her swallow, and from my periphery, I see her wipe her palms on her thighs. “I was jealous of you.”
I peer up at her. “Jealous? Of me? Why?”
She fiddles with her fingers, heaving out a sigh. “Because Mom and Dad left you alone.”
I wryly laugh. “Because they left me alone? Do you not realize how badly I wanted them to pay attention to me? You got all their attention. They were always there for you, always—”
“And I was sick and tired of it,” she voices, exasperated.
“I’m aware they gave me all the attention, but it came with nonstop criticism and constantly being compared to you.
I was second in my class, but you were valedictorian.
You got accepted into all your choice schools and I didn’t.
You were so nice, and everyone said I was the bitchy sister…
” Maya looks up at me, regret and sadness marring her face.
“I was jealous that despite knowing they would be mad at you for going to school in New York, you still went. That even though they cut you off, you didn’t come running for their forgiveness.
I was jealous that you were able to do something I couldn’t, that no matter what I did and how I did it, they weren’t ever satisfied.
I know it’s not your fault, but I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
I’m stunned by her admission. I never thought about it like that. Whenever I was around, she was being praised while I was getting pushed to the side or judged.
“I-I didn’t know.” My limbs twitch, wanting to reach out for her, but they stay glued to my sides. “You always looked so happy.”
“I thought if I pretended enough, they would finally be proud of me.” Her lips tremble, but she clamps her teeth down, fighting to compose herself. When a lone tear drops, I wrap my arms around her. “No, don’t hug me. I’m okay.”
“Shut up.” I speak past the lump in my throat and band my arms tighter. “I’m tired of us being weird about affection. I know you need a hug, and I need one too.”
She hesitantly accepts the contact. She’s stiff at first, like her limbs are made out of marble, but when I squeeze her, I feel the weight of her regret crumble.
Maya sniffles and I’m certain she’s wiping the tears away. I don’t say anything, only continue to hold her. We bask in the silence until we hear Rosie and her dog barking.
We laugh and pull apart, wiping the tears away.
“I’m going to have to do my makeup again,” I whine, fanning my face.
“It still looks good, I promise.” She smiles and pauses. “I’m really sorry I took it out on you. It wasn’t your fault. I let my insecurities get the best of me.”
“It’s okay. I don’t hold it against you. Our parents really know how to pit us against each other. That was one thing they excelled at, huh?”
She gives a mournful sighs. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Yeah?” My heart lurches.
“Yeah,” she answers, nodding. “You’ve done so much—graduating, going to France, being a mom, opening the bakery, dealing with what they’re saying online? Rosie’s so lucky to have you.”
“Oh.” My voice breaks and the tears come despite how I try to keep them back.
“Don’t you dare cry again. Your makeup looks too good,” she warns, and catches me off guard when she envelops me. “Love you, Anna Banana.”
“Fuck you.” I get choked up. “You haven’t called me that in…forever.” I hated the nickname when we were kids, but by the time it grew on me, it was too late. “Love you too.”
She draws back, cracking a small smile, but then it casts down. “Are you sure you want to go out with him?”
I frown, more than a little confused by her question. “Yeah. Why?”
Her mouth parts, but it snaps shut.
“Don’t hold back. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
She twists her body fully to face me. “I know you said you were done with Sylas, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. Sometimes it feels like you’re fighting against everything you want. I see the way you look at him—”
“I don’t look at him.”
“I could sit here and list all the things you do, but I won’t.” She groans, rolling her eyes. “You know what you want, Anna, but you’re not allowing yourself to have it.”
I feel defensive and annoyed because she’s not wrong.
She knows me well. “I can deal with a lot of things, but I can’t deal with another heartbreak.
He walked away and I couldn’t stop it.” My heart crawls up my throat and gets stuck there.
“What if I give him another chance and he does it again? What if his parents get in between us? What if…There are so many what-ifs. I’m playing it safe with Jackson.
I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m just trying to move on, and I will. ”
“I know I’ve already said this, but you look amazing. I can’t get over it,” Jackson says over the loud music, eyes sweeping over me appreciatively and lingering where my dress falls well above mid-thigh.
We came straight to Neptune after dinner, and we’ve been here for an hour now. It’s been fun—sort of. We drank, danced, talked, and laughed. He hasn’t held back on flirting and grabbing me. I’ve let him, but I don’t feel anything.
My brain is fixated on Sylas. I can’t stop comparing Jackson to him—everything he does, how he does it, how he speaks because he has that stupid accent and Jackson’s is just…yeah.
I wonder what he’s doing. I saw him this morning before I left for work. He had a yogurt parfait ready for me—every morning he has something for me. I’ve told him to stop, but he’s intent on feeding me, staring at me like he can’t get enough of me, and—
I take a sip of my drink, letting it numb my senses, and thank him for the compliment.
Jackson plants a hand on my hip, and his gaze settles on my cleavage. “Let me know when you’re ready to get back out there.”
I don’t know how to tell him that I’m ready to leave, that I’m not feeling this, and despite how hard I try, I think I suck at flirting.
My words are so dry, even when he touches me, I’m not reacting to it the way I know he wants me to.
If he senses it, he doesn’t seem to mind, but my best bet is that he doesn’t.
“Yeah, let me go to the restroom first.” I force a smile and slip away from him, then weave through the crowd.
The moment I enter it, I check my reflection in the long mirror. Sometimes I feel self-conscious, but not today. Today I feel really good. But I hate that this doesn’t feel like enough, that my body and brain are refusing to enjoy the time I’m spending with Jackson.
Knowing I’ve been in here long enough, I step outside, but I’ve only taken a few steps when someone grabs my wrist and steers me down the hall.
“Hey! Let go!” I jerk my hand away, ready to punch the person, but my fisted hand loosens when I realize who it is. “Sylas? What the hell? You scared me, you fucking asshole!”
My heart both thunders and bolts for him. This is getting ridiculous.
“Yeah, I’m about to be the biggest asshole you’ve ever met. Leave him.” His jaw tics.
I scoff. “I’ll see you at home.” I try to walk around him, but he blocks my path, standing in front of me. “Move.”
“Anna.” He stalks forward, invading my space, and I step back until my shoulders hit the wall. “I’m not going home without you.”
“You’re going to have to because I’m on a date. So get out of my way,” I demand, but the words lack conviction, and I think he knows.
He places one hand on the wall next to my head, while the other lingers close to mine. He smirks and leans down, his mouth close to my ear. “Okay, enjoy your date. When you’re ready to leave, let me know.”
I laugh, tipping my head back to look up at him, but it cuts short as I notice just how close our mouths are. “I’m not leaving with you.”
“Yeah?” I hear the challenge in his gruff voice.
“Yeah.”
“We’ll see about that.” His hardened gaze sweeps down my body, leaving a scorching path. I pathetically squeeze my thighs together, relishing how he looks at me, how his jaw clenches, how he wets his lips.
I glower at him. “No, we won’t. Move.”
Sylas steps back, and his soft eyes rove over me. “You look…” He exhales a sharp breath. “You look divine. I hate that you’re wearing this dress and that he gets to see you in it.”
“You’re seeing me.”
“It’s not the same,” he bites out.
I glance down the hall and know I should leave, but I stall. His eyes ground me, his hand caresses mine, and his words set me on fire.
“I gotta go.”
“This is torture.” He sounds devastated as he shifts out of my way.
So was hearing you say it was over, I want to say, but I don’t. Still, it does enough to remind me why I’m here with Jackson.