Now I knew what it meant to really have Bea, and there was no unknowing.
She had reached out, but only through the app, never to the real me. Even though I felt like I was buried in ice, I was doing my best to give her the space I’d promised. Not going to her in the conference room on Tuesday had nearly broken me. My thumbs had to bleed to keep me away.
But she’d given meAntarctica, and I would not go against her wishes until she explicitly gave me the green light.
In the meantime, I’d live with the consequences of my own decisions. Pick apart the choices that got me here. No matter how I’d turned it, I’d come to the same conclusion: I’d fucked up.
Dishonesty didn’t come naturally to me, but bending rules—framing the truth to achieve what I believed was right? That I was guilty of.
Bea had called it manipulation. I couldn’t argue.
But winning her through lies of omission wasn’t any kind of victory. I’d been too fixated on the prize to see that until it was too late.
When she reached out, I would tell her this. That I’d been unequivocally wrong. That I’d learned from my mistakes and would never repeat them. But I had to wait for her to be ready to hear that. I’d already crossed too many boundaries to push this one. IfAntarcticawasn’t safe for her, how would she ever believeIwas?
A light tap on my arm pulled me from my thoughts. Talon stood beside me, holding a book. It was after dinner. My dad was out on a date. The girls were upstairs in Scarlet’s room. It was just the two of us in the living room.
“Excuse me, Uncle Sally.”
I cocked my head, giving him my full attention. “What can I help you with, sir?”
He chuckled. Lately, he’d been reading every story he could find that involved butlers. His mind had snagged on that particular curiosity a few months ago and hadn’t let go yet. I was slightly worried our library would run out of material before he moved on, but he still had a long list to get through.
He liked it when I pretended to behisbutler, addressing him formally. He’d roped my father into serving his breakfast on a silver tray and wore white gloves so he could read his books in character.
Tia would have laughed her ass off at her son’s latest interest. Then she would have collected herself and researched every way she could support him. Knowing her, she would have found a real-life butler to introduce him to. Now that I had thought of it, I could probably do that…
“What was my mom’s middle name?” he asked.
“Antonia. Grandpa passed his name to us both. And your mom gave it to you.”
Talon already knew this. But he liked to hear about her. And I didn’t mind saying the same thing again and again. Talking about Tia never got old.
“Grandpa must really like his name. He calls me Talon Anthony sometimes.”
“It’s family tradition. Your mom made him very happy when she gave you that name. If you have children one day, you might pass it on too.”
He twisted his mouth to the side. “What about you? Will you name your kid Anthony?”
I rubbed the top of his head. His hair was getting long. I’d have to check my calendar to make sure he had an appointment for a haircut.
“I already have a kid with that name. I don’t need another one.”
His brow furrowed as he thought that over. “You mean me?”
“Who else could I mean?”
Hesank down on the couch beside me, his arms crossed. I twisted to face him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.
He tilted his head back, frowning, then his narrowed eyes darted over me, curiosity and suspicion mingling in his gaze.
“I’m your kid?” he finally asked.
“Yes, you are.” My hand slid from his head to rest between his shoulder blades. “You’ll always be your mom’s, but you’re mine now too. She trusted I would do a good job with you. I could never replace her. Your mom was one of a kind. But I learned how to…befrom her. I remember how much she loved you and your sisters, and now I love all three of you the way your mom showed me. It’s not the same, but I hope you know it’ll never go away.”
My chest was filled with knots, so tight it hurt. Two years wasn’t long enough to get over losing my sister. Then again, neither was a lifetime. I loved my parents, but Tia had been the most important and pivotal person in my life. She’d been exceptional. Filled with good and understanding. It still didn’t make sense she was gone. My brain could not compute her absence from the world.
But she’d left me with her children. They weren’t the same as her, but each of them contained some of the best parts I was privileged to foster every day.
