Chapter 21
THEA
Just over two hours have passed since this door slammed behind me, and a little part of me—okay, a large part—wants to run. The rap of my fist sets off a round of nausea inside me. I wait. And wait. And wait.
I’m put out of my misery when the door cracks open and Addy’s face appears. She’s still in her gown, but her eyes are bloodshot and swollen. I’m not sure what’s stronger: the petty relief that she’s upset, too, or the surge of guilt that I’ve upset her during her special week.
She inches the door open, leaving just enough room for me to squeeze inside, and the nausea kicks back up in full force.
I don’t know how this conversation’s going to go.
If she’s going to apologize or demand an apology of me or just straight up call me an asshole and uninvite me to the wedding.
But Vaughn’s right, I can’t keep running away from the hurt.
I planned it out in my head before coming to her room. Calmly explain why what she said bothered me, peeling the layers back so she can see why it hit so many of my soft spots. Instead, I blurt, “Do you hate me, too?”
That’s the crux of it. I’ve always known Addy wanted more than me—more family and love and support—but I thought she wanted more on top of me, not instead.
In my head, we’ve always been a team, a pair of sailors managing our tiny boat, equally vital to keep it from sinking.
Now, I wonder if she looks at me as a liability, someone poking holes in the bottom while she’s frantically trying to reach shore.
Addy’s body jolts. “Hate you?”
“L-like her?” I stutter out. “Do you hate me like you hate Mom?”
“What?” she asks, her eyes flashing. “Why would you even ask that?”
I’m lightheaded, everything in me screaming to get out. Leave before you drive her away like everyone else. I never should have brought this up. It would have been so easy to apologize. We could have gone through the rest of this week like nothing happened, and we’d have been fine.
You deserve to speak your truth, Thea, Vaughn whispers in my ear. Give her a chance to prove you wrong.
Owen’s soft voice echoes. How could she know you as well as she does and not love you?
I push past the sinking sensation in my gut. “You don’t want the necklace because you’re focusing on your new family instead of the one you could never rely on. That’s what you said. I’m your family. I’m the one you want to leave in the past.”
There. I said it, and there’s no taking it back. I’ve opened Pandora’s damn box. And shockingly, I don’t regret it. It’s a weight off to know it’s out there, even if I’m still stewing in what it will mean for our relationship.
Addy’s face drains of color. “No. Oh my god, no. I’m so sorry, Tia. That wasn’t what I meant. You’re my sister. My best friend. I didn’t mean you.”
Her words and the accompanying relief knock the wind out of me.
I know Addy better than I know myself. The way her jaw tightens when she’s apologizing just to end the argument and how her eyes bounce around the room when she’s lying.
Right now, she’s meeting my gaze head-on, her posture open and her eyes devastated, and I believe her.
Addy takes a step toward me but stops herself. “Please. Please forgive me. I’m sorry.”
I close the distance, pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry or run out.”
We stand there, clutching each other and crying, the type of cathartic cry that washes you clean by the end.
Her arms around me make me feel cherished.
I need to be better about trusting our relationship.
We may not be perfect like everything else about Addy, but we’re real.
Our foundation is strong enough to handle the shockwaves of our fights without collapsing.
“Tia?” Addy hiccups when our tears slow.
I squeeze her even tighter. “Yeah?”
“Can you please get me out of this dress?”
Both of us laugh, our bodies supporting each other as we collapse forward. I spin her around, undoing the buttons as quickly as I can. Once free, Addy throws herself onto the bed, starfished out in nothing but her shapewear.
“It’s so nice to lie down. I’ve been standing for two hours because I was worried I’d get it all wrinkled.”
“It’s lace. Does it even wrinkle?”
Addy lifts her hands and lets them drop on the bed. “I don’t know. Probably not. But I’m just so worried that I’ll mess it up. That I’ll mess all of this up.”
I walk back over to the bed. “You know Harrison loves you for you, right? He’s marrying you because you’re amazing, not because you’re perfect. It’s okay if everything doesn’t run exactly as planned.”
She pinches her lips to the side, the love for him brimming from her eyes. “I know he does. He’s just … he’s wonderful, Tia. But his family’s more than just him. I don’t just want his love. I want to fit here, you know? I’ve never fit anywhere before.”
She has the Fischers, but she’s always felt separate from them.
They’ve adopted three of their foster kids, but the other two were adopted as toddlers, growing up with Maria and Gary and—unintentionally—making Addy feel like a last-minute add-on.
If they’d adopted her the first time we were placed with them, she wouldn’t have this issue.
I created this feeling of otherness for her.
Addy props herself up on her elbows, her tanned olive skin on display. “Anyway, how did you spend the past two hours?”
I’m hit with a wave of guilt. “Oh, you know, rage hiking around the property and talking to Vaughn.” And fucking your future brother-in-law.
“I really am sorry,” Addy says, her face pinching, and I feel even guiltier for keeping this secret from her.
“I know.”
“I just kind of freaked out. Please don’t be mad, but—Tia, I can’t wear that necklace.”
I can understand where she’s coming from, and it shouldn’t matter. What is it but a scrap of metal and a semiprecious stone? But it still hurts. Addy must see the way the words twist in my gut, because she jumps in.
“I love you, and you’re one of the most important people in my life. But this is my wedding, and everything with our birth mother is wrapped up with a lot of pain and anger and complicated emotions, and I don’t want to be thinking about that on such a big day.”
I drop onto the bed next to her, wrapping my fingers around hers as we both stare up at the ceiling. “You’re right. I’m sorry I pushed.”
She faces me. “You aren’t our mother. I’m sorry I made it seem like I was looping you two together when you’ve always put me first. I trust you. You’re nothing like her. You’d never make selfish decisions like she did.”
I don’t point out that Mom wasn’t selfish, she was sick. Even though I want to. Addy’s relationship with our mother is her own, and I can’t force her to feel the way I do.
And I refuse to give in to the guilt from her comment, in to the fear that the choice I made with Owen is selfish.
It would be selfish if we came clean now, causing drama and issues with Diana just so I could touch him whenever I wanted, but we’re waiting.
And Owen is right, I deserve happiness, too.
“Join us for dinner tonight?” Addy asks, breaking me out of my reflection.
I smile, genuinely, because those fears of her not wanting me to be a part of the family were clearly unfounded. “Yeah, sounds great.”
When Addy and I make it downstairs, Diana, Harrison, and Owen are already at the table.
Harrison jogs over the second he spots Addy, his smile stretched across his face as he loops his arms around her waist and spins her.
Addy’s delighted squeal fills the space around us, and I can’t stop my answering smile.
Camila’s standing at the hostess station, her dark brown curls piled into a high bun with a poofy headband, and I stop for a quick hello.
“I thought you worked at the front desk?” I ask.
“I do. And the restaurant. And the tasting room. And sometimes housekeeping. At least bellhop is off the table,” she says, gesturing to her bump.
“Pretty sure my parents expected more of their five kids to join the family business, but it’s just me.
I need to hire some new employees before my maternity leave, but who has the time. ”
I lift an eyebrow. “Seems like something you make time for.”
“Did you come here to have dinner or to attack me?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. “Because I believe someone is waiting for you.”
She jerks her head toward the Hayeses’ table.
Owen’s watching me, the weight of his gaze like a thousand electric pulses throughout my body.
When we make eye contact, his lips quirk up.
He rolls them together to hide the smile, and when that doesn’t work, he rubs one hand over his mouth.
But it doesn’t matter that the curve of his mouth is hidden, because it’s all there in his expressive eyes.
His delight and desire, painted in shades of blue and green.
Everyone is seated when I make my way over. There are two free spots—one next to Addy and one next to Owen—and my body screams at me to take the seat I want. To feel the warmth of Owen’s body in the small space between the chairs. But that would raise eyebrows, so I stop next to Addy.
Before I can pull the chair out, Diana rushes to her feet. “I’d like to sit there. Why don’t you take the seat across from me?”
The free seat next to Owen.
“Mom, you’ve already sat down,” Owen says quietly.
“I didn’t think about it when I chose my seat, but I’d rather sit there,” she says through gritted teeth, widening her eyes at Owen in a way that isn’t as inconspicuous as she thinks.
“I’d like to sit by Addy, if you don’t mind,” I say, shooting for casual.
Diana makes a psh sound, walking over to maneuver me around the table. “Nonsense. You see Addy all the time. This is my chance to get to know you again.”
She laughs, light and airy, but Addy flinches across the table.
“Mom,” Harrison barks out, but I step closer to her before he can continue.