Chapter 25 #2
Maddy looked between us, clearly displeased.
“I’m not asking you to approve,” Eddie continued, shifting his gaze to Maddy. “We have our relationship, we know where we stand with each other—finally. We’ve had years Maddy-darling, we can and should give Frankie the time she needs. Just… let her breathe.”
Something in my chest eased. Just a little.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
Maddy didn’t respond. She turned away, already retreating into her own frustration. When she strode off, I blew out a breath of my own but Eddie didn’t seem to be done. He watched Maddy go with a long sigh before he glanced back at us.
Focusing on me, Eddie said, “I know she seems—harsh isn’t the right word, but overly eager doesn’t fit either.”
I would have suggested bitchy but that didn’t seem appropriate right now.
“I can hardly scold her when I am as eager as she to make this family work. You. Archie. Your mother. Me.”
Biting down on the inside of my lip, I struggled with the tangle of emotion that left me in. “I get it,” I said quietly. “But this…it’s not about it all being too new.”
I could give him that honesty.
“It’s about what you two are doing and how your relationship affects mine.
” I adored Archie. I didn’t want to be his sister.
Especially after how he’d kissed me and made me want him to kiss me again.
Even during the party the night before when Coop kissed me, I hadn’t missed the heat in Archie’s eyes or the way his lips curved into that knowing smile when our gazes locked.
“I understand,” Eddie said on a sigh. “I’m also serious about giving you time. You’ve moved in and you’re adjusting as much as you are able. I will do my best to not let anyone push you any faster than you want to go.”
“Thank you.” That meant a lot more than maybe he could understand.
With a nod, he began to turn away then paused to glance at me. “That dress is stunning by the way. I opened a charge account here… I’d be happy to pay for anything you want, but I would really like to treat you to the dress of your choice.”
A lump formed in my throat. The man was trying so damn hard with me. It was difficult to reconcile that with the distant, hostility-ridden relationship he had with Archie.
It also made me feel guilty as hell for this disloyalty to Archie.
When I didn’t respond, he gave me another nod then walked away.
Rachel exhaled slowly once they were gone. “Well,” she said. “That was… something.”
I laughed, shaky but real. “Yeah.” I’d been trembling and they weren’t going away as I wrapped my arms around myself in a hug. Rachel rose and crossed over to me, she gave my arm a rub.
“Do you want to try on any more?” Sympathy and support twined in her voice and I tilted my head as we both turned to look at me in the mirror.
Did I want to try on more? Not really. Should I?
I blew out a breath. “We have four more in there. I really like this one,” I admitted. “But I want to be sure.”
I also didn’t want to pick it just because Eddie said he liked it. Petty? Maybe. But I wanted this decision to feel like mine.
“Well, then take this gorgeous butt in there and shimmy out of that dress and let’s see what the others look like.” The droll comment chased away some of my doom and gloom.
Wait, halfway to the dressing room, I pivoted to look at her. “Aren’t you going to try on dresses?” Weren’t we supposed to be shopping for both of us?
Rachel clicked a photo of me with her phone, and said, “Do that again.”
“Do what again?”
“Come back here, walk back to the dressing room, and pivot sharply like you did… again.”
My mouth fell open but Rachel locked gazes with me and tapped her foot.
Throwing up my hands, I let out a laugh and did as I was told. She snapped three more photos of me based on the shutter sound her phone released, including one that had to be of my ass, but whatever.
“Thank you,” Rachel said when I finished. “Now, let’s get this runway show on the road. Go try on the others.”
“What about your dress?” I reminded her.
She just grinned. “I have mine.”
“You do?” I straightened. “What does it—”
“You’ll see at Homecoming. Now, go, shoo. Get changed.”
With a sigh, I retreated to the dressing room. “You do know you’re not the boss of me.”
“Well, then you’re giving a really good performance of a good girl,” she teased and I snorted.
“Right, brat mode activating.” At my deadpan remark, Rachel actually cracked up.
Grinning, I glanced at myself and the dress in the mirror then and shook my head. “Try on the others,” I muttered to myself. “Then we’ll decide.”
In the end, I bought the dress.
Not to make a statement. Not to rebel.
Just because I wanted it.
As Rachel and I left the store, sunlight warm on my face, I realized something important. For the first time since everything started unraveling, I wasn’t choosing out of fear.
I was choosing because I could.
Whatever came next—scandals, tests, truths, fallout—I would face it standing up.
I had to, because how I handled it mattered to me.
Then Rachel said, “Now we need to get shoes and jewelry.” At my groan, she just laughed. “This is the easy part. Wait until we get ready the day of.”
“What?” But Rachel didn’t respond to my panicked little outburst, she just strode on to the car dragging me with her. “Bossy bitch,” I muttered and Rachel just grinned.
“You love me for it and you know it.” Then she glanced at the garment bag I was hanging in the back seat and added, completely smug, “Also, I just saved you from a lifetime of regrettable photos.”
Another laugh escaped me, because yeah, that was the thing: I did love her for it.