I don’t know what I expect to see when her profile fills the screen. A public apology to me? Or maybe a picture of the long-lost daughter she dearly misses.
I’d take even the smallest breadcrumb from her.
What I don’t expect to see is her cradling a fresh-faced baby with the caption, “Drew finally made me a grandmother.”
My pulse thunders in my ears, and I narrow in on that little word.
Grandmother.
My phone slips from my hand. She already has a grandchild. A beautiful grandson of her own blood that she has never once attempted to see. She’s no grandmother.
My eyes sting and my vision blurs. I tried so hard to be the daughter she wanted, nearly drove myself insane trying to keep up with my stepbrother, only to fall short over and over again. But through it all, nothing has ever hurt me more than this. She’s not my mother. She’s not Crew’s grandmother. She will never deserve that privilege.
Rage fills my chest, and my blood pumps hot and fast through my veins. I reach into my bucket and chuck my rag across the station, but it only falls with a lazy splash in the center of the garage. Screw it. No one is here to see me ugly cry.
Tears cascade down my cheeks as years of harbored resentment, rejection, and pain bleed from my eyes.
“Lyndi?”
I freeze at the sound of Ward’s voice and duck my head toward the stain on the floor. I reach my good hand in the bucket, but my rag is across the room.
“What are you still doing here? It’s nine o’clock,” he says.
“Oh?” I refuse to look up at him.
“You should go home and be with Crew.”
The gentleness in his voice breaks me, and I look up, baring my puffy eyes and wet cheeks in all their glory.
His lips part and he falls back a step. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Crew?”
It’s too much. He cares about my child more than my own mother. I sob and duck my face from his view.
“Lyndi.” He drops to the floor beside me. “What’s going on?”
I let my hair fall over my shoulders, obstructing my face from his view. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Is that why you’re scrubbing the floor with your hand?”
I look down to confirm he’s right. “I just…” I pull my hand back and scramble for an excuse, “saw something that scared me.”
“Like a mouse? We’ve had a few running around here.”
“What?” I leap to my feet, scaring Ward to a standing position as well. I’m not safe if any part of my body still has a connection to the ground.
I lunge at Ward, but if he has any clue about what’s going to happen, he gives no indication. I fling myself into his arms, and like a good fake boyfriend, he catches me before I’m dragged down into the rodent-infested abyss.
My fear has nothing on the pounding of my heart at being pressed against Ward’s chest. Again. It gets better every time.
“I don’t like mice,” I breathe, finally meeting his eyes.
“I can tell.” His breath brushes my lips. “That was an awful joke.”
I blink. “Joke?” I drop my feet to the ground, but my grip stays just as tight on him as his does on me. “That’s two in a row.”
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you smile.” He ducks his head sheepishly.
My brooding fake boyfriend just made a joke to make me happy? I want to cry all over again. A smile creeps onto my lips. All he has to do is ask and it’s his.
