Chapter 49 Monroe
MONROE
Aweek and a half after Briar leaves, I’ve finally settled into a routine with the girls.
They bound into the bedroom around five or so in the morning, then it’s breakfast, packing lunches, and taking them to school.
While they’re learning, I work on preparations for the ceremony, and after school, I bring them treats from Novel Nibbles.
In the evenings, Cherri joins us, and we do crafts or projects around the house.
The latest is a collage wall leading down the hallway to Briar’s office.
Instead of using newspaper clippings, though, we’ve taken old books and mixed up their pages for our canvas.
Once it dries, the girls will help me paint it.
“I wish I didn’t have to go to sleep tonight,” Juni groans from over her paper. She scribbles with a fat green crayon clutched in her grasp. Her tongue pokes out from the corner of her mouth as she focuses on staying in the lines.
“I know, but your body needs it,” I remind her. “Even flowers need to rest in the shade to grow.”
The other girls at the table nod in silent agreement.
“I guess so.” Juni shrugs, then sets down her crayon and stares up at me. “Will the nightmares ever go away?”
“I don’t know, sweetie.” She and Briar both talked to me about her nightmares of being unable to breathe.
While that’s a usual enough dream for folks who are overwhelmed or trapped by something in their lives, I suspect in Juniper’s case they are her subconscious working through her death.
Unlike the other girls, who each have their own tragedy, Juniper’s was violent.
Horrific. I swallow thickly, recalling what Briar told me about her drowning.
“Have you been practicing what we talked about?”
“Rewriting the ending?”
I nod.
“I have.” She lifts her chin and puffs up her chest. “I’ve been practicing it all day. When I start to feel like I can’t breathe, I blow big bubbles that float on the breeze.”
“I love that.”
“My sisters are there, and we run and chase them round while you and Daddy sit on a blanket, eating macarons.”
“And smooching,” Lilly adds, giggling. The other girls join in, and my cheeks heat.
“Sounds like a lovely dream.” I place a hand on Juniper’s shoulder.
This visualization technique is one I’ve used many times with clients, but I’ve never ached so much with the hope it’ll work.
“Tonight, at bedtime, I want you to close your eyes and picture that a few times before you go to sleep. Okay?”
She nods vigorously. “Okay.”
“I wish you were always here,” Taylor says, carefully coloring her paper like she didn’t just say six words that splinter my ribs.
“Me too,” Millie and Lilliana agree in unison.
I temper the prickling sensation building behind my eyes.
“I love being here,” I admit, unable to say more. Wishing I could. I won’t promise them anything until I talk to Briar, and I won’t talk to him until I’m certain. It wouldn’t be fair to any of them otherwise.
There’s the usual nightly knock on the door. I clear my throat and leave the girls to their coloring, opening the door for Cherri, who’s holding a large square box that smells divine.
“Pizza!” the girls shout as soon as they spot the box on the counter, cheering and throwing their arms around Cherri.
“Thanks for picking this up. I’m so glad you could come over.” I grab plates and dole out slices while the girls clean up the table to make room for the food.
“Girls’ night pajama party? I wouldn’t miss it.
” She shimmies in her jammies—cherries scattered over the pale-blue button-up shirt and matching shorts.
A pair of hot-pink bunnies stare up from her feet, and she smiles at my pair, almost identical, though they are gray.
Shuffling to the table, she glances down the hallway. “Love the new wall.”
“We helped,” Taylor tells her, lifting her head with pride.
“I bet you did.” Cherri holds out her fist, and Taylor bumps it with her own.
“They’re still deciding what they want to paint over it, but it’s going to be beautiful.” I take a bite of pizza, savoring the pull of cheese stretching from my lips to the crust. It finally releases and smacks my nose. The girls chuckle and I pretend to have no clue as we continue to eat and chat.
After dinner, we head into the backyard. I get the projector ready while Cherri sets out popcorn and snacks atop the picnic blanket. We huddle together under the stars and watch Enchanted in our jammies before bed.
Cherri’s waiting for me with a steaming mug when I come out from the girls’ bedroom. Gone are the days of staying up until midnight. Not when a tiny harbinger treats the mattress like a trampoline come dawn. Fortunately, there have only been a few nights of being woken by Juniper crawling into bed.
“There’s still a few more days until the ceremony… Do you think they’ll make it back?” Cherri asks between sips of lavender-chamomile tea.
“I’m sure they will.” The tension in my body unfurls more with each warm swallow from my cup that’s painted with a brown blob bunny and a few small pink flowers.
A Briar Bloom original. The girls keep me busy during the days, but once they go to bed, that’s when it really hits me how much I miss him.
“Dani wouldn’t miss it and Briar will want to get back to his girls. ”
“And his mate.” Cherri waggles her maroon brows.
“That too.” I take a long swig of tea, grateful for another day where nothing alarming has come through the bond. Briar doesn’t conceal his emotions from me—something that used to frustrate me but now I see it for the reassuring blessing it is.
I nibble my bottom lip, the quiet house making space for my curiosity to rise to the surface. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. You know I’m an open book.” Cherri sets down her teacup and leans forward with her hands clasped.
“What is the sex like—with the lock?”
Sex for me has always been stress relief, the pathway to a quick dopamine release.
I never had the desire to savor it—there were always more important things to be doing.
But with Briar, every touch carries a purpose, every kiss a lingering devotion.
A quick release was an appetizer for him, and I had a feeling the main course would alter my brain chemistry.
An hour of him feasting on me spread over his desk before he left already had.
“You haven’t?” Cherri’s face screws up in confusion. “Sorry, I mean, I just assumed since your scent marks were all over each other.”
“There are plenty of other ways to mark each other,” I say, blushing.
“Well, yes, but the lock is just so damn good.” She exhales audibly. “I’ve enjoyed a lot of Bloom fuckery, but nothing compares to being joined and sweaty, and when the—”
She clamps her mouth shut, eyes wide.
“What?” I ask, leaning forward, uncertain whether to be intrigued or terrified.
“Nothing. Well, not nothing, but some things are worth experiencing firsthand.” She shakes her head and holds an invisible key between her fingers, twists it in front of her shut lips, and tosses it off to the side. “I won’t ruin it for you.”
I groan. “So not helpful.”
“Trying to explain would be a disservice. The surprise will be worth it.” She winks.
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” I mutter into my teacup before taking a sip.
Cherri’s mouth lifts into a smug grin. “For now.”
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
Cherri pushes her seat back and holds up a hand, stopping me from doing the same. “Sit. I’ll get it.”
I continue savoring the calming lavender-chamomile blend, relaxing with each sip, at least until I see who’s in the doorway. I halt and set the cup down.
“Monroe.”
There’s no greeting. No warmth in her voice—not that I especially find her warm by any means.
“Corrigan, what a pleasant surprise,” I say with a quaint enough smile.
I pull out a chair beside me, and Cherri grabs her a cup and saucer from the cabinet.
It’s the one Taylor decorated at my birthday party, cherry blossom petals and ribbons wrapping around it. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
Corrigan taps her finger against the edge of the empty cup, scanning over the quiet house. “I didn’t realize you’d moved in.”
“I haven’t.” I swallow the defensiveness rising in my voice.
“She hasn’t yet,” Cherri clarifies, picking up the teakettle and bringing it over to fill Corrigan’s cup.
The prickly Radix lifts a hand and sneers. “Don’t you have anything stronger?”
Cherri sets the kettle down and opens the fridge, unscrewing the top of a bottle of rosé before pouring it into Corrigan’s mug.
She moves to take it back to the fridge, but the Radix grabs her wrist, stopping her.
Downing her wine in three long gulps, she refills and sets the bottle next to her, smacking her lips together.
Cherri and I exchange concerned glances.
“I know Briar and Dani are away… Have either of you heard from them?”
We both shake our heads. Neither of us are sure what we can say other than confirm they are gone. There’s no use trying to lie about that, we’ve been out in Florezca with Briar’s daughters and it’s been over a week since they left.
Corrigan swigs another heaping serving of wine, draining half the teacup. “Do you both truly believe I’m dense? I know where they are… Who they are looking for.”
Her mate. Though she won’t admit it.
“Have you heard from Skylar?” I ask, hoping there’s something that will make their search quicker so they can come home.
“No.” Another sip, then another. She swirls the tiny bit of pink liquid around, her neck lined with the tension she refuses to express. “Not since before she left.”
“Briar and Dani will find her,” Cherri says, gently grasping Corrigan’s wrist before she refills her wine. “If anyone can, it’s them.”
“It’s hard to believe that when I can’t even sense her.” She shoves her hands into her lap and stares at her empty cup.
I cock my head at her. “How is that possible?”