Page 19

19

SUTTON

When it comes to distractions—boy, does the Savin family deliver.

It’s been almost four days of impromptu pool parties and ocean dips, of ice cream in the mornings and late-night conversations with Faye while she nurses little Aria.

There’s something wonderfully comforting about having Faye around.

Maybe it’s the maternal glow she wears like a coat of armor.

Maybe it’s her calming presence, her honey butter voice, the way she mothers me just as much as she mothers her own children.

Maybe it’s the fact that I miss my sister and have no idea when I’ll be able to see her.

For whatever reason, I lean on Faye, probably more than I should.

In my defense, she seems to enjoy spending time with me, too. Most days, we’re chained at the hip, running after kids, making schedules, assembling PB you deserve better.”

“I don’t know…”

Faye looks aghast. “How can you say that?”

I shrug. “Let’s face it, Faye. I knew what I was getting into from day one. He never lied to me about what he expected. He wanted a baby. It was never about me. There was never going to be an ‘us.’ We were doomed right from the beginning.”

She grabs my hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. “Nothing is ever doomed,” she insists. “This is just Oleg’s M.O. He gets insecure about things and his way of dealing with it is to not deal with it at all.”

“What do you think he’s insecure about?”

She spreads her hands wide to encompass everything. “Fatherhood. Marriage. Love. Anything too emotional or intimate or personal. He recoils like a wounded animal.”

“It’s because of the accident, isn’t it?”

Faye sighs. “It’s the only reason I give him a pass sometimes. Because that accident robbed him of so much. He blamed himself to the point that he decided to punish himself. That’s why he can’t open up to you, Sutton. It’s because he feels he doesn’t deserve to be happy.”

I chew on my lip. I want to believe Faye, but believing her means risking more heartbreak, more disappointment.

“Has he spoken to you at all?” she asks. “About fatherhood, about the baby?”

“The only thing he’s really discussed with me is the paternity test. He wants to meet with his attorneys soon to discuss a custody arrangement for the baby. That’s all I know so far.”

Faye is perched on the edge of her seat. “Are you serious?”

“Uh, I mean, yes. We really haven’t discussed very much else. In fact, we’ve barely spoken in days.”

“That… that is… outrageous!” she storms, slamming her glass on the table so hard that half its contents come spilling out.

“It’s okay, Faye?—”

“It is not okay!” she explodes, leaping to her feet. “You should storm into his office and demand a proper conversation. He can’t be allowed to dictate your whole life. Or the baby’s, for that matter.”

“What can I do, though?”

“You can shout until he listens,” she says firmly. “You have a voice, Sutton. It’s time you used it. This is your life, too. All those decisions he’s making need your input. Don’t let yourself be sidelined. If you do, you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it.”

I sit with that for a long time, my heart expanding and contracting painfully. As moonlight dwindles and The Water Star gets closer, I realize that Faye is right—as usual.

I have opinions.

It’s time for me to start whacking a few balls into Oleg’s court.