Chapter 13 #4
“He’d have hated that. Benji can’t stand being ignored.”
Right? “He demanded a reset, that we return to normal. During our last confrontation, I told him to go fuck himself and that I would never trust him again.” Thom stared at a point over Poppy’s shoulder, remembering the cold resolve flowing into Benji’s eyes the minute those words left his mouth.
“He decided, right then, to take me down. He manufactured evidence that I moved funds, set up false email chains, and created the buzz that I was coloring outside the lines.”
“Bastard,” Poppy whispered.
“A story was leaked to the press, and the article implied impropriety. Ingrid and her project were implicated, backroom dealings, slush funds, and abuse of influence.”
“Headlines and rumors don’t need facts, they just need fuel,” Poppy murmured.
“Exactly. It was enough of a scandal, a stain on my name, that the board suggested I resign. It was made very clear that I’d be pushed out if I didn’t, especially since my brother and stepmother would vote to remove me. I left, and I lost my credibility and reputation.”
Poppy scowled. “That’s so unfair. But you sued the crap out of them.”
“And won.” He smiled, just a little, at her ferocious expression. “I’ve also started to consult again, mostly online and with people I worked with before. They are bypassing Sheffield Strategy and are working with me directly.”
“He always felt like he couldn’t compete with you,” Poppy said. She rested her cheek on his chest. “I’m sorry he did that to you, Thom.”
“I’m sorry he hurt you,” he replied, stroking her hair. “Though, to be fair, I’m not sorry you ran and that you are here.”
“I have not regretted my barefoot, cross-state flight once,” she told him.
She’d yet to mention Benji’s cheating, even peripherally, and judging by the way she was snuggling into him, she was done talking. Not expressing herself, especially to him, was very un-Poppy-like.
“Have you talked to Wren, or anyone, about what Benji did to you?” he asked, stroking her back.
He felt her go rigid beneath his hand. Then she sat up too quickly and pasted on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Something flickered there—something sharp—and he didn’t recognize it.
“Don’t need to,” she said lightly. “It’s over. He’s irrelevant.”
Irrelevant?
Thirteen years might’ve passed, but some things didn’t change.
He knew Poppy. She didn’t shrug things off.
She talked, and talked, until she made sense of what she was feeling.
He could understand her not wanting to unpack it all with him: he was her ex’s brother, and they could only be described as complicated.
But not talking to Wren? That was wrong on so many levels.
And her fake-bright, brittle expression—the one yelling nothing to see here—made his nerves buzz. He’d seen that face before, when she was a kid and a young teenager. It meant she was hiding something.
The thought was a spear through his ribs. What aren’t you telling me, Pops?
Earlier, he’d felt something dangerously close to optimism. Like maybe they were finding their way back to something steady. Something real.
Now? Now he felt like sand was shifting under his feet.
Ruby
Since Ruby’d been on Cedric-duty lately—the guy was definitely infatuated, not yet obsessed, but she was keeping her eye on him—this was the first conversation she’d heard, okay, eavesdropped on, between Poppy and Thom in a while.
She stood just outside the kitchen door, her arms folded tight.
She’d thought she’d do a quick check in, but their conversation, the ease of it, captivated her, and she’d stayed longer than she meant to.
Thom kept amazing her, in big ways or small.
And it wasn’t only his words that affected her, she was entranced by the way he treated Poppy, the way he held her, listened to her, the steadiness in his voice and his unwavering, solid support.
He simply rocked up to every occasion and gave Poppy what she needed.
He didn’t stop to work out the cost-benefits, whether he was coming out ahead or not, what was in it for him.
He was simply, consistently present. Poppy didn’t realize what a gift that was.
Something twisted in the space that used to be Ruby’s stomach.
She’d never experienced support on that level and wouldn’t have known how to handle it if she had.
And she didn’t trust that sort of emotional safety, that amount of all-in.
Not then, and not now. But she couldn’t deny that, for Poppy, Thom was her safe place to land. Her backstop and safety net.
But Ruby suspected Poppy wasn’t ready for what Thom could give her. Because Poppy still wasn’t being fully truthful and was still holding back. How could she be when she was still untangling Benji, and the reasons she’d fled the wedding?
Ruby’s biggest clue? She still hadn’t spoken the truth to anyone about why she ran, not even to Wren. Ruby figured she either hadn’t worked it out, or she hadn’t had the guts to face it yet.
Poppy was still editing her life in H-Town, still caught up in being back in the town, in this house, with Thom.
She was bobbing on the surface and ignoring the churning mess underneath.
Ruby instantly recognized the pattern: it was one she knew intimately.
Focus on the good. Ignore the bad and uncomfortable.
Get hit by a semi.
A swirl of cold air whipped around her, a portent of something heading their way. It wasn’t evil but it would be disruptive… A catalyst.
For better or worse? Only time would tell.