Chapter Twelve #3
Lane’s mouth tightened. “I went to see Jeanette.”
Nova put the grapes down. “Alone?” Nova asked.
Lennox stepped forward. “Ask your little friend why I told her not to go confront her mother alone, and she went anyway, putting herself in danger.”
Lane turned on him. “Little friend?”
“Yes. Little friend. Tiny menace. Lavender problem. Whatever we’re calling you today!” His voice rose.
Her eyes widened. “You are not about to yell at me in front of company.”
“I’m not yelling,” he calmed down.
“You’re vibrating.”
“Because if something had happened to you, I would’ve burned through this whole fucking town to find who touched you,” his tone frigid.
Cadence sucked in a breath as KC’s expression sharpened. Nova went soft around the eyes, and Land looked like she wanted to fight him and fold at the same time.
Lennox pointed toward the island. “You said you’d let me help.”
“I did let you help,” she scoffed.
“You snuck out of my bed before sunrise.”
“I went home.”
“And then you texted Jeanette from a burner thread and agreed to meet her alone at three.”
Lane’s mouth closed.
Nova slowly turned toward her. “Lane.”
Cadence’s hand moved over her belly. “Baby.”
Lane shook her head. “I had to go.”
“No, you didn’t,” Lennox said.
Her eyes came back to him, bright with the kind of pain that made him want to lower his voice even more.
“I know you’re a leader,” he said, “I know you’re used to being the captain of your own ship.
I know you can walk into storms and make everybody else think the rain asked your permission to fall.
I know your heart is broken, Baby,” his voice cracked just enough to make the room disappear around them, “I feel it radiating off you. I saw it in that apartment. I saw it when she said she wanted to know you. I saw you standing there trying to be the woman who survived while the little girl inside you was asking why her mama never came. I see you, even the broken pieces,” he spoke tenderly.
Lane’s lips parted as a tear slid down her cheek. Lennox’s anger folded into grief so fast he almost couldn’t breathe. He saw the beginning of Lane’s story and was determined to make sure it had the happy ending it deserved.
“I’m still here. I’m your safe place to land. Daddy is here for you to have somewhere to fall and feel broken. You cannot and should not have to face the world alone anymore, Lane.”
Lane tried not to, but she fell apart, and not elegantly. Lane broke like something inside her had finally gotten permission to stop holding the roof up. Her knees buckled, and Lennox caught her before she could hit the floor, pulling her into his arms as her hands fisted in his shirt.
“Why didn’t she want me?” Lane sobbed.
The question gutted him, making Lennox hold her tighter. “I don’t know, baby.”
“Why didn’t she love me?” Lane wept.
“She should’ve.”
“I was a kid.” Lane’s voice shattered. “I was a kid, Lennox. I was hungry and scared. I was alone, and she didn’t come.”
“I know.” He pressed his cheek to her hair, eyes burning. “I know.”
Cadence was crying before she reached them. She came around behind Lane, belly first, wrapping her arms around Lane’s back as much as she could.
“You were always worth coming for,” Cadence whispered. “Always. Her not coming was her failure, not yours.”
Nova moved in from the side, sliding one arm around Lane’s waist and the other over Cadence’s shoulder. “You hear us? Jeanette’s sickness and shame didn’t make you unlovable.”
KC stood behind Cadence, one hand on his wife’s shoulder, his own eyes wet. Tariq turned away for a second, jaw tight, then came back with a box of tissues and set it on the counter. Lennox rocked Lane slowly, his hand moving over her back.
“You don’t have to be strong right now,” he murmured. “Not in here and not with us; let it go,” he reassured Lane as she shook in his arms.
Cadence kissed the back of her shoulder. “We got you.”
Nova nodded against Lane’s side. “All of you. The mad parts. The broken parts. The petty parts. The lavender menace parts. We got you.”
A wet laugh broke through Lane’s sob.
“There she is,” Nova whispered. “Our mean little flower.”
Lane cried and laughed at the same time. Lennox held on like his arms had been built for this exact collapse. For a long time, nobody rushed her.
The kitchen became a sanctuary of quiet encouragement and soft hands. Cadence murmured reminders that Lane was loved. Nova cursed Jeanette in creative, whispered bursts that made Lane laugh through tears twice. KC got water and stood close.
Tariq, who rarely knew what to do with heavy emotion, eventually said, “For the record, if we need to jump anybody, I got comfortable shoes in the car.” Lane gave a watery snort into Lennox’s shirt.
When Lane finally pulled back, her eyes were red, her lashes wet, and her face bare of every shield Lennox had ever watched her wear.
She looked alive in a way pain sometimes made people after it passed through instead of staying trapped. He knew she was exhausted but still beautiful.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Everyone objected at once.
“No,” Cadence said.
“Absolutely not,” Nova snapped.
“Don’t apologize for being tired of carrying the weight of your past,” Tariq added.
Lennox wiped beneath her eye with his thumb. “You ready to go home?”
She looked up at him with a softer expression on her face before saying yes.
They said goodbye to everyone, and he took her home.
He considered going to his place, but he wanted her everywhere he was, including his bed, his table, and his car.
Truthfully, he wanted her beside him in every room he entered for the rest of his unreasonable life.
But tonight, Lane needed to sleep beneath her own roof and know support could come to her and meet her needs in the space she’d built for herself.
He followed her inside with a small overnight bag he’d stopped for on the way. Lane hadn’t commented, which meant she was too tired or she wanted him there. Either way, he accepted the mercy.
Her townhouse smelled like her. Warm vanilla, lavender, coffee, and clean laundry.
Her living room was neat but lived in, with books stacked beside the couch, framed photos of Nova and Cadence, and a throw blanket tossed over the arm of a chair.
On one wall hung a framed print of a lavender field pushing through cracked stone.
Lennox stared at it for a second too long, and Lane noticed. “Cadence gave it to me.”
“Of course she did.”
“She cried when I hung it.”
“Of course she did,” he said again, softer.