“Fine,” she muttered as I passed her the sandwich on a plate. “You’re still an asshole. You know that, right?”
I smirked at her as I readied my plate. “Might be true, but you love me all the same.”
37
Lyra
The Eagle
Iwoke up the next morning with a start. Laughter broke out from somewhere in the house, but it was loud enough to echo into the bedroom past the closed door. I gathered the bedsheetaround my naked body, my limbs a bit shaky as I walked over to the window facing the driveway and pushed the blinds aside.
I’d know that truck—ostentatious in both size and number of stickers along the back window—anywhere.
Grant.
Boots clomped with heavy footfalls beyond the door and I held my breath, staring at the knob. Only when another door—the hallway bathroom, I realized—closed, did I exhale. It’s just Grant. Or Carver. Nothim.
“He can’t get you here, stupid girl,” I muttered to myself as I shook the chill from my bones and gathered my phone before heading to the bathroom. Sometimes, no matter how hard you tried, there was no running from your past. Especially not when it fucked you up so bad that letting yourself love and be loved by someone else was the hardest thing you’d ever do.
But, here I was, against all odds, back in the arms of a man I shouldn’t have ever left. Back wheresafewas becoming less of a dream and more a reality.
Checking my phone, I saw only one notification—a single text from the only person I’d relied on for the past ten years.
Sophia: Good morning, you beautiful bitch! I wanted to check in on you. Signs of life, and all. I’d be more concerned if I wasn’t sure that guy on the phone was probably fucking your brains out, keeping you away from me. If that’s the case, I’m fine waiting.
Me: Morning, Soph. I’m good.
Sophia: That’s all I get? I’m good?
I snickered as I dropped the sheet and started the shower.
Me: I’ll call you in
My phone lit up in my hand as Sophia’s name flashed across the screen. I sighed and answered, putting it on speaker phone.
“Was ’bout to say I’ll call you in a bit.”
“Not good enough. Are you okay? Safe?Gooddoesn’t tell me what you’ve been up to since you left me.” An invisible fist collided with my chest, her words bringing up a cycle in my life I should’ve never started. “Is that mystery guy, Carver Roland—”
“He’s not a mystery, Sophia. He’s…umm. Please don’t freak out.” I stepped into the shower and set the phone on the ledge—the one now cleared off because it seemed Carver installed that shelf he told me he’d ordered. I smiled as I said, “He’s my husband.”
Sophia was silent for a beat before bursting into a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry, repeat that?” she said, trying to control the laughter still spilling from her.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, then grabbed one of the soaps Car bought for me. “You heard me.”
“Have you been married this whole time? Is that who you were runnin’ from when I found you?”
I paused, biting my tongue, fighting back tears. “No. It’s recent.”
“You’ve only been there not two weeks and you decided to get married? And it isn’t to that Jamie guy?”
“Jamie is an asshole and possibly one of the worst people I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Okay. Jamie equals asshole. Got it.” She made a clicking sound. “Is marrying Carver some new way you’re trying to make money, because I could always lend you whatever you need. Without a marriage and all.”
It took nearly a year for me to find out Sophia only worked as a waitress and lived in a shitty apartment because she wanted to. She could have been living in a mansion this whole time, but refused the lifestyle granted to her at birth.
“I don’t want your money. I tell you that all the time. Just your friendship is valuable enough.”
