Chapter One
Janelle
Three months after the wedding
“O kay, stop. I want you to acknowledge what you just said.” Amerie’s therapist, Dr. Sampson, pauses her with a hand in the air.
“What did I say?” Amerie asks.
It’s hard for me to even focus on Dr. Sampson’s response. My eyes drift around the warm space she’s curated. The navy blue walls, matching velvet couch, soft lighting, and tall, vibrant plants would make anyone feel at home enough to share their feelings, but I want to leave.
This is the third therapy session I’ve been to with Amerie since she returned from her honeymoon.
She begged me to come with her to try to mend our relationship.
The very fact that she’s in therapy and asked me to join shows that she’s trying, right?
Yet every time we come here, it feels like this is a giant performance she’s putting on, and I’m nothing more than her supporting cast. I leave this office feeling more drained than anything.
I turn to look at Amerie. Her hair hangs to the middle of her back in beautiful, loose waves.
Her makeup is flawlessly natural. Her cream cashmere turtleneck sweater and black wide-leg trousers are tailored to complement her body perfectly.
Her gorgeously manicured nails fly around animatedly as she speaks.
She truly looks like a goddess who has all her shit together.
It’s her eyes that give her away, though.
I don’t know why I never noticed before; maybe I didn’t want to, but her eyes are so far away and miserable.
She hides it well, but I see past the facade now.
How is she newly married to the love of her life and still so miserable inside?
It almost makes me feel sorry for her, but then I remind myself that my sister is a Venus flytrap: beautiful on the outside but ready to pounce at the moment of contact.
I observe her sweater a little more until I realize she’s staring right at me. I turn to Dr. Sampson and she’s staring at me too. One of them must have said something to me. Shit.
“Umm, I’m sorry. What was the last part?”
Amerie rolls her eyes and drops her hands in her lap. “I’m so horrible, and yet she can’t even listen to me during therapy.”
And here I zone out again.
Forty agonizing minutes later, I rush out of Dr. Sampson’s office before Amerie can talk to me. I’m way too hungry for her shallow attempts at conversation.
I make my way to Miss Shirley’s and practically skip to the door. There’s nothing like good food with good company; my lunch date for today is one of my favorites.
My dad’s excited wave catches my attention the moment I walk inside. I nod to the hostess before stepping right into his waiting arms.
“Hi, Daddy.” The strings of his hoodie hit the side of my face and tickle my nose, but I don’t mind.
He holds me out at arm’s length, smiling down at me. His buzz cut is even grayer than the last time I saw him, no doubt the result of years of living with my mother.
He pulls me back into him to lay a kiss on my forehead. “Hi, Nugget.”
We sit down, and I see a cran-pineapple mimosa waiting for me at the table. I cheer with Dad’s maple bourbon cider before we dive into catching up. He tells me about the new pizza oven he wants and asks about the book signing Rome took me to.
We stay at our table after we’ve gorged on our delicious meals, still laughing about random things. When it’s just Dad and me, things are a lot easier. However, when he hunches his shoulders and leans forward, I know he’s about to burst our happy bubble.
“So, your mom and I are in counseling.”
I wanted things to get better between my mom and me when we came home from the wedding, but I didn’t have high hopes.
I was right to keep my expectations low because she went right back to her bullshit the moment we landed.
Our limited conversations have been her trying to gaslight me into believing I did her wrong on the trip and that she’s always done the best she could for me.
When I stopped answering her calls, I was met with angry voicemails and text messages that would’ve once made me crumble.
I’ll admit, it’s hard not to fold still, but therapy is helping with setting boundaries and understanding my worth. A certain gentle giant is helping, too.
It hurts to hear that she’s making an effort with everyone in the family but me. Amerie has mentioned in therapy that she and Mom have been having constructive conversations. Must be nice.
“Oh. That’s nice.”
Dad’s lips drop to a frown. “I’m realizing all the ways I failed you. All of you.”
I furrow my brow. He’s the last person I’d expect to say that because I don’t feel he failed. “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t do enough for you growing up—you or Amerie.
There were plenty of things your mom did to you both growing up that I disagreed with, and I should’ve said something to her about it.
I should’ve said and done more, but when she told me to trust she was doing what was best, I left it at that.
I thought if I were there for each of you in my own way, it would make up for the fact that you didn’t have each other the way you should’ve. ”
My tongue is heavy with words unsaid. I always felt like my dad did the best he could with what he had. I still believe that, but maybe his best was less than I deserved.
I cover his hand with mine. “Thank you for saying that. I think what matters now is where we go from here.”
“I promise to do better. Your mom’s gonna do better, too.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him I won’t hold my breath for that last part.
A few hours later, I’m finally home. I think if I have to process any more emotions, I’ll lose my shit, so I jump into the shower to wash the day off of me.
It helps a bit, but my shoulders still feel tight, and I feel a tension headache coming.
Unfortunately, my favorite stress ball is in California for business, so I must settle for the next best thing: ice cream.
I’m about halfway through a pint of dulce de leche ice cream and an episode of Love Is Blind when my phone rings.
“I was just thinking about you.”
Rome’s smooth voice replies, “Oh, yeah? What about me?”
“I’m watching Love Is Blind and trying to imagine us on a show like this.”
His quiet laughter draws out a laugh of my own. “I’d be on you from day one.”
“Oh, I know. You probably would’ve proposed the second day in the pods.”
“Shit, more like first night if we’re being real.”
I chuckle. “So stupid. Anyway, what’s up with you?”
“Just callin’ to see what you’re up to. You spending the whole night with Nick and Vanessa?”
“I sure am. I already took my bra off, so I’m in for the night, and I’m off tomorrow, so I’ll be parked on this couch for the foreseeable future.” I curl into a ball on the couch and swallow another bite of ice cream to emphasize my point.
“Hmm, okay. So you don’t wanna open the door then?”
My eyes fly to my door. “Open the door for what?”
“Go find out.”
I throw the blankets off me and rush over.
What has this man sent me now? I had a list of things I expected to find waiting for me at the door, but the man himself was not one of them.
It doesn’t fully register that he’s standing in front of me until he wraps his arms around me, surrounding me with that woodsy scent.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is three octaves too high, but I don’t care. He’d already been gone for a week and was supposed to be gone for two more. I missed him. Simple as that.
He grabs my chin to pull my lips to his.
“They didn’t need me in person for the full three weeks, so I brought my ass home.
” He grabs a bag off the floor with one hand and my hand with the other to walk us inside.
He tells me about his flight on the way back earlier today while I grab him some water.
A delicious aroma fills the room when he opens the bag he brought with him. “Oh my God, what’d you bring?”
“You sounded like you were having a rough day when we talked earlier, so I knew you wouldn’t be up for me taking you out tonight.” He hands me a red and white carton. “I picked up Chinese food. And don’t try to tell me you had girl dinner; that’s not a thing.”
“I mean, it is.” I gesture to my unfinished ice cream, neglecting to mention the handful of chips I ate earlier. “But I won’t turn down Chinese food, thank youuu,” I sing.
“Of course, J baby. And the best part? You ain’t gotta put a bra on.”
The smile on my face is impossible to contain. “See, you just get me.”