“Yeah,” I say finally, “Yeah, I do love her.”
Maverick practically explodes next to me, hands flying into the air like he just won the Super Bowl. “You’re fucking lying!!” he shouts, clapping a hand against my back hard enough to shake my spine. “My grumpy-ass brother still has a functioning heart? Goddamn miracle!”
Linda lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head fondly. “Well, it’s about time, Carter Hayes. She’s lucky, you know. But you,” she pauses, her eyes warm, “you’re evenluckier. This is the first time I’ve seen you smile like this in years.”
My jaw clenches as I nod. The truth is a lump in my throat I can’t quite swallow.
“I’ll play along,” Linda says gently. “No one deserves a fresh start more than that girl.”
“Thank you.”
I’ll be the silent hand behind the scenes—the man stacking bricks beneath her dream, one by one, until it’s real. I don’t need the credit; I just need her to make it.
And I’ll always be here, cheering her on quietly from the shadows if that’s what it takes.
catalina
. . .
Iwas still stewing over what Carter said about rent. He wasn’t wrong, and that made it worse, worse than the words themselves was the fact that he was right. A couple of months’ worth of rent wasn’t enough—not when I didn’t have anything else lined up.
No backup. No real safety net.
How the fuck was I supposed to run a business when I could barely keep my head above water?
Whatever. I keep showing up, working doubles at the bar as I smile through the pain, pretending my feet don’t feel like they’re about to break through my shoes, pretending my lower back isn’t one shift away from locking up permanently, pretending I’m not drowning in doubt.
Quitting isn’t an option. Not anymore.
I need to prove that I could do this, prove to myself that I wasn’t just another spoiled rich girl who gave up when things got hard.
I’m on break now, slouched against the rough brick wall behind the bar, dragging in lungfuls of fresh air that don’t seem to reach where I need them to. My head rests backagainst the wall, eyes closed, just trying to exist in silence for five fucking minutes.
My phone buzzes on the sidewalk near me, it’s my fuckwad of a father.
Fuck.
My stomach drops, leaving a pit in my stomach, and the feeling of nausea settles in. I answer anyway, like always.
“I’m on my break,” I say flatly, not even trying to hide the bite in my voice. “What do you want?”
His voice slices through me, cold and sharp like a blade against skin. “Still bartending at that slum you call a bar, huh? Like a goddamn disappointment.”
That same word. Disappointment. It’s his favorite word. He’s been throwing it at me since I was old enough to hear it, and he never misses.
My patience is running thin with him. But I still don’t say anything, because there’s no point. My heart pounds in my chest, a rhythmic warning to keep quiet.
It’s what I do best with him. He no longer hears my voice, so I don’t give in to his beratement. I don’t lose it, I listen.
Just breathe, Catalina. Breathe.
“Hopefully you’re learning your fucking lesson being shipped out there, not living the lifeIgave you,” he sneers. You made your bed, Catalina. Lie in it. And maybe, if you’re a good girl and behave, I’llconsiderbringing you back home.”
The line goes dead.
My teeth grind together so hard my jaw aches, and I can taste blood from the constant biting of the inside of my cheek. My heart is pounding out of rhythm, a broken drum echoing between my ribs. The breath I’ve been holding escapes in a long gasp.
Fuck, it never gets easier.
