Page 114
Story: The Confidant
“Not dealing well has many different forms.” I narrow my eyes at her. “What you’re doing is causing a lot of harm to people looking for comfort with other survivors. Leave now and never come back.”
It burns me that I’m being polite. I want to jump down this woman’s throat and rip my way out on the other side.
Joseph grabs her arm and pulls her away to have a private word. It leaves a space open for the brunette to come forward. She has a wary eye on Maman, and when she faces me, she seems just as cautious.
“Hi. I’m Tera?”
I raise a brow at the questioning tone. It makes her warily happy expression begin to falter.
“Back off, man,” one of the cake pieces, a man who’s somehow larger than Greg, scowls at me. Unlike Greg, he’s lean in the middle and clearly muscled. None of her men seem to approve of me. It isn’t surprising.
I return my gaze to Tera.
“Congratulations on the baby,” I tell her without much emphasis.
I’m too busy thinking about how badly Addie wanted to meet her. Press her face on this woman’s stomach and feel it kick her in the cheek. The memory of her wistful expression when she told me she’d never get that tears me up inside.
“Thank you,” she says in a voice that wavers with a lack of confidence.
“Are you married to my sister?” Asher asks in a calm tone that comes through gritted teeth.
I glance at him and raise my hand to show him the ring. “Yes.”
The simple action and the single word seem to defeat him. He stares at the ring with agonized eyes, and his face pales.
“She didn’t… want me there?” He asks, sounding lost.
My hand drops. His eyes follow the motion and don’t rise again.
“She did,” I tell him cautiously. His eyes snap back to me as his face freezes into an unfeeling mask I’m familiar with. It makes me pause.
Is he the one?
I feel like an idiot even thinking it. Of course, he’s the one. The youngest. The one she guards more than the rest. Her favorite. And he’s covered in her flowers. Another layer of protection when she can’t be by his side.
“She was told that you never wanted to speak to her again. Because of my photographs and website,” my eyes narrow. “The Broussards didn’t approve.”
“I didn’t know about any of this until a week ago,” he tells me in a voice iced over to be unfeeling. There’s a certain lack of tone to it that’s a shield to keep people out of his inner thoughts.
“A week ago,” I mutter, my brows furrowing. “Then she lied to her.Again. Two months of suffering for one more lie.”
My eyes move to Maman as my expression becomes more severe. I want her gone, and I never want to see her again.
“It’s my fault,” Tera bursts into speech with wide eyes filled with remorse.
“It isn’t,” I cut her off without looking at her. My hands slowly begin to curl into fists as my anger focuses where it belongs. “That woman has been trainingmy wifeto think everyone despises her. That’s not on you.”
“I was the reason Asher stayed away from Adelaide. I’m so sorry. Please, we just want to see her and explain everything.”
“Babygirl,” one of the men tells her sternly, but she’s too caught in her own guilt to listen.
“She can hate me. It’s not a big deal. I just want to fix this so bad,” she brushes him off with a panicked tone. Her breathing begins to get choppy, and reluctant concern builds inside me.
“Addie doesn’t hate anyone, especially you,” I glance back and gesture for one of the people crowding the entrance to bring me a chair.
“Are you sure?” She chokes out as a chair is set next to her.
Grace appears out of nowhere with a bottle of water and a weak smile. She knows better than to approach someone in the middle of a panic attack. Some people can’t handle physical stimulation while it’s happening. Grace is one of those people. But it’s hard to stand on the sidelines and not want to extend comfort however you can. I mutter thanks to Grace and point to the chair.
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