Page 93 of The Good Girl Effect

“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask.

“I think you know what it means,” she replies. “I mean…sure, you hired a nanny for Bea, but I think you both need her around.”

“It’s not like that, Elizabeth,” I reply, clenching my jaw. “And it isn’t easy, watching someone else take care of my daughter.”

“No reason to get defensive,” she argues. “I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m saying it was a good move.”

Though I don’t reply, my expression begins to grow tighter and tighter.

Suddenly, a soft hand lands on my arm. “Hey,” she mumbles softly. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean anything, Jack.”

“I know,” I reply raspily as I run a hand over my face, trying to relax the grimace.

She’s still watching me, but I keep my eyes trained on the spinning ride, forcing myself not to grow too agitated. I don’t want to ruin Bea’s day with my mood.

“And for the record,” Elizabeth adds quietly. “If there was anything morebetween you two?—”

My head snaps in her direction. “Drop it.”

“I’m just saying…”

“I said drop it,” I grit through my teeth. I just want her to stop talking. Stop saying what I know she’s trying to say. It’s all too much, too hard, too painful.

“That would be okay too,” she whispers, finishing her sentence.

I open my mouth to argue when I hear my daughter giggling. “Papa!” she calls.

Quickly, I turn my attention back to the carousel in time to see Bea and Camille go around again. Forcing a big fake smile on my face, I wave to them.

Elizabeth doesn’t say anything else as we watch the ride come to a stop and the girls climb off and run over to us.

“I want to ride another ride, Papa!” she squeals.

“Okay,” I reply with a lopsided grin. “Whatever you want. It is your birthday after all.”

The four of us take off toward another ride, and it’s hard not to feel a sense of peace. For now, I can shove aside everything Elizabeth was saying. I know what she was implying is true, but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept. I know I can move on after Em’s death. I know I can find love again, but at what cost?

Especially when all I’ve really wanted is to leave Paris and take Bea back home, where we belong. That is what I still want, isn’t it? Everything feels so convoluted now—with the club and with Camille. It’s not as black-and-white as it once was. Maybe once we’re in California and the memory of what we lost isn’t hanging over us like a dark cloud, things will feel clear again.

As we walk, I glance over at Camille and realize just how attached to her I’ve gotten already.

Which means…that if I do go back home and try to move on, it won’t just be Em that I’d be trying to move on from.

Rule #32: It’s okay to pretend.

Camille

Jack is smiling, likereallysmiling. He’s holding Bea under one arm, helping her reach a large balloon from one of the vendors standing in the crowd. She giggles loudly, and Jack presses a kiss to her cheek with more love in his eyes than I’ve ever seen. This is not the same man I first met. It’s far more than just him coming out of his shell. Jack is healing.

Did I have a part in this? Did my presence at the house somehow convince his heart to repair itself? I guess it really doesn’t matter. He’s getting better forher, which I think Emmaline would appreciate.

“Oh, the teacups!” Bea shouts excitedly as she pulls us through the park. I take one look at the dizzying ride, and my stomach turns just watching it.

“I couldn’t possibly,” I stutter as my feet stop so she can’t tug me toward it.

“Me neither,” Jack replies as he stares at the ride with a grimace. Then he glances at Elizabeth. “You can take her. Don’t you spin for a living?”

She rolls her eyes as she takes Bea’s hand. “It’s a little more sophisticated, but sure. Come on, Bea. They can’t handle it, but we can. Let’s show them how it’s done.”