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“If it will make you feel better, then I’ll let you get a hit in. It’s fine.” He angles his head to give me access to his chin. “Go on. Hit me, Gilli.”

“I’m going back to the cabin.” I squeak out a breath. “You’re more than capable of finishing this job yourself.”

Getting myself under control is a priority and picking fights doesn’t help. Emotional and overtired is a bad combination.

Soren gets under my skin and knows which buttons to press effortlessly. But it’s better to be angry than to cry. Tears aren’t going to help.

I have to calm down.

I’m definitely not going to make them dinner tonight, even though I’d planned to in order to make up for Soren grilling last night. Fuck them.

I’ll be the selfish one and go to bed with a bowl of cereal even if it’s childish.

Shame spirals through me and I stop dead in my tracks halfway back to the cabin. Shit. There really is something wrong with me. I’m foolish and spiteful, and the only person it hurts? Me.

“Pull your head out of your ass, Gillian,” I mutter, scrubbing my burning eyes.

I’ve done a lot of things I regret in my life. This moment doesn’t have to be one of them.

And it did feel good to be useful and work with my hands. Everyone dreams about taking a long weekend, but these few days of driving and hiding are parallel parked next to torture.

Soren isn’t aware of it but I’d needed his help. I needed to work my body to give my mind a break. Before the argument, I’d even been enjoying his company.

A little bit. Sometimes.

When he kept his mouth shut.

I force myself to walk at a faster clip to put more space between us.

Soren has no idea how lucky he is to have his mom in his corner. He says little about her but the way he leaps to her defense, it’s clear he loves her. And it’s also clear that he’s beyond bitter when it comes to his dad.

I sigh, tilting my head back and rocking it from side to side although the ache in my spine stays.

I still remember the last time I saw Ma in person. Or at least, the last time she bothered to speak to any of her girls.

She came back to the trailer to grab something she must have desperately wanted before leaving on her honeymoon and kissed us each on the head, starting with the oldest, saying she’d be back in a week, charging Suz to watch us and keep us in hand until Bill got back from a long-haul gig.

After that, we got a phone call saying Alistair wanted her to stay with him a little longer before they came back to move us all into his house.

But not to worry. Bill was on his way.

Then, a text to the cell Suz had gotten with her money from the restaurant, her after-school job. A text, that was it, telling us Honey and Alistair needed more time but not to worry. It didn’t matter where Bill had gotten off to, shewouldbe back for us.

The move was coming.Sure.

Of course the move never came. Her children and the trailer she left behind were nothing but a smirch on the life she was building.

At the door, I kick off my mud-speckled sneakers, leaving a trail of tiny wood chips behind me on my way to the shower again.

Hot water pulses down over me, wiping away the evidence of my labor.

After the shower, I turn and stare at the dimples in my ass cheeks. Steam fogs the corners and top half of the mirror,leaving me with a viciously clear view of everything I’ve always hated.

Before starting cam girl work, I stayed away from full-length mirrors, because the biggest thing Ma gave her girls besides abandonment wounds is a hatred of our bodies. It’s different for each of my sisters.

I was a year into my veterinary technology program when a friend put a name to the issue I’ve had my entire life.

Body dysmorphia.