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The longer I spend with him, with Alex, the more I feel for both of them. I’m falling in love with this precious little family, with Cash, and I don’t know what to do about it or how to feel about it.
And with the upcoming consultation, my nerves are through the roof. I’ve spent most of my life doing what other people want, and now I have the opportunity to be selfish.
“Enough,” I mutter, and get out of bed.
I spend the next hour getting the kitchen clean, and the breakfast made, then check on Alex. She’s in the throes of the dreaded second day of her period, but she smiles from ear to ear when I bring her pancakes with a side of bacon in bed.
Cooking is my comfort zone, mostly because I was the one who did most of it growing up, and watching Alex devour the pancakes brings me so much joy.
“June,” Alex says between chews.
“Yeah?”
She finishes her bite and crinkles her nose. “Do you think Daisy’s going to be mad at me for yesterday?”
“No way. If she’s a true friend, she’ll understand that you were going through something. Heck, she’s probably going to go through it soon too.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. She’s going to hit puberty too. It’s a rite of passage,” I say. “A really sucky one.”
Alex nods. “I didn’t think it would hurt like that.”
“I know,” I say, “but there are ways to deal with it. And if it’s ever too sore, you can talk to a doctor about that as well. But yeah, it hurts, and I guarantee you that most women and girls hate it just as much as you do. We’re riding the red tide of anger and pain together.”
Alex giggles and eats more of her pancakes.
I switch on her stereo and let her listen to music while I start cleaning up the house. I’m sure Cash added something to the Excel spreadsheet, and I have, like, thirty minutes until my meeting with Lone Star, so I rush to grab my phone.
I’m just about to check the sheet when my phone rings.
An unknown number.
It can’t be Braydon, right? Surely, he’s gotten the damn picture by now.
I answer the phone, ready to tell him where to shove his opinions about me and his phone for that matter. “Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello?” I repeat.
“June? Is that you?” The voice is soft, feminine, familiar.
“Uh, yeah. Who is this and how may I help?” Maybe it’s someone from Lone Star calling to reschedule? Or, oh God, what if they decided to start the interview early? Did they email me, and I didn’t see it?
“June, it’s Olivia.”
The world slows around me. My gaze moves around the interior of the room, the same room where I spent the night with Cash, and I let out a breath.
I move to the bed and sit down, the phone to my ear, speechless.
“June? Helloooo, are you there?” Olivia’s tone is singsong. A forced happiness.
“Olivia,” I say, scarcely comprehending that I’m saying her name. Olivia who abandoned her child. Who lied to Cash about my feelings, who went behind my back and literally impacted the course of my future by doing so.
“It’s been so long,” Olivia says. “I just wanted to call and check in on you.”
She wants to check in now?
