She laughed. A dry, callous sound that sent goosebumps over my skin. “What happened to the man you were dating this summer? Were you lying to me?”
“It was them. It’salwaysbeen them.”
Another laugh erupted from her, this one louder and drawn out. “Harlow, please.”
“I—”
“I can’t wrap my head around this. Rico is your stepbrother.” She scoffed, throwing her hands up. “I never questioned you only having male friends because they were so protective of you, and I justknewthey wouldn’t cross the line.”
“They didn’t?—”
“You mean to tell me they’re passing you around like a collection plate and you want me to be happy about it?”
Thathurt. Any shred of reasoning I wanted to do with her went out the window. Of all the people I expected to slut shame me for my choices, it wasn’t my mom. Not even Brock had stooped that low.
“Okay, you clearly need some time to sit on this, so I’m gonna?—”
“Were you doing this under my roof?”
“No, mom. We fell in love as adults. We were twenty-one the first time we acted on anything.”
“That was almost ten years ago. You’ve been sleeping with your brother for a decade and didn’t think to tell me once?”
“If you’d just let me talk, I could explain.” A foreign surge of frustration clouded my senses. She wouldn’t listen to me, and I was just about done trying to make her. “What we did at twenty-one happened once. That’s it. Everything else was this summer. After you and Brock were divorced.”
My mom kissed her teeth and hid her face in her hands. I thought she was sitting with it. Processing what I told her. And that was my fault for getting my hopes up.
It took me thirty years to discover Yvette Donovan had it in her to get angry. Yet here she was, mouth pinched, and no light in her eyes when she looked at me. “If you think those men love you, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“Mom—” Every ounce of hurt I felt was in that word, and she didn’t care.
“I mean it, Harlow. Never mind the fact that one of them is yourstepbrother, what man do you know willing to share a woman he loves?”
I could name three. With certainty. But I was over this conversation and so was the sore muscle in my chest. “Okay, I’m done. We can talk about this later.”
She sputtered when I reached for the door handle. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll get myself home.”
“Harlow—”
I closed the door, drowning out her words.
The afternoon sun beamed down on me with a vengeance, and it still wasn’t enough to heat the icy chill settled over my skin. “That went fucking terrible,” I mumbled, stepping back onto the sidewalk to wander around Rainbow Row.
Soul’s spa was two doors down from the nail salon. I could go in there. He’dwantme to. But I couldn’t bring myself to show up at his job like this. So, I turned and sought out the only other familiar face within steps of me.
The melody of a seashell door chime announced my arrival when I walked into the air-conditioned space. Right away, the mingling fragrances of coconut, vanilla and gardenia made my next inhale easier.
The woman behind the counter was the only other person in the shop and glanced up from the string of beads in her hands with a beam. “Hey, girl.”
“Hey, Lyric.”
I didn’t carewhat anyone else said, people who could talk about anything were the backbone of society. And people who could talk about anything with little feedback while I tried not to cry in public were saints.
Lyric Dawson could talk her little heart out, and I’d never appreciated that more.
There hadn’t been a lull in conversation since I walked in an hour ago. Not when she told me she was technically closed and just in the shop today to catch up on online orders. And not when Simeon showed up with a salad and green juice for her. She talked him right out the door with the straw to her lips. And the smile plastered on Simeon’s face told me he was just happy to be acknowledged.
