“I love you,” I whispered, unsure who I was saying it to. But it didn’t matter. I loved them all with my whole heart.
thirty-five
Carina
Iadjustedmyreddressfor the hundredth time already and exhaled heavily. My nerves were running riot, and it felt like a flock of thousands of starlings was twisting and turning inside me. I ran my hand over my belly, wishing I could settle it, but even Peanut was feeling my stress levels. They’d gone unusually quiet, and that was stressing me even more.
I’d have the answer to the question that had been plaguing me for months in minutes—would they forgive me?
I was about to come face-to-face with Jacques’s parents, my former best friends.
This was it. It was happening.
I wanted to hit pause on time to give myself a few more minutes, but I simply didn’t have the luxury. When Jacques had told me that his parents were coming to Thanksgiving, I’d asked Cara to hold off on coming until we were ready to eat. I didn’t want her to have to listen to me being reamed by my former best friend.
The wait was killing me.
The turkey and all the vegetables were in the oven, and the refrigerator was packed full of the rest of the sides and desserts. All the preparation was done. Now all I just needed to get over this hurdle... or maybe mountain.
I watched as Sophia and Pierre’s rental car pulled up outside. Jacques shot me a small smile and headed outside with Trav following him. There were warm welcomes and hugs all around, and it only made my nerves worse. I was happy Jacques’s parents were being good to him and Trav, but I wanted to puke. I was sure I was a sick shade of green.
Fear ate at me, the what-ifs worse already knowing that Sophia and Pierre were both disappointed and disgusted by me.
Linc crossed the room and rubbed his strong hands up and down my arms. “Hey,” he murmured. “We’ll get through this.”
“I don’t want Jacques to lose his parents. I know he’s going to tell them that he wants nothing to do with them if they won’t accept me.” I shook my head and blinked back the tears welling in my eyes. I whispered, “I can’t let that happen, Linc.” I sucked in a wobbly breath and reached for him.
He hugged me tight as I fought back tears, and I sank further into his embrace. I breathed him in and took solace in the way he held me. I’d never been a crier. I was a “let’s get this done” kind of person. I wasn’t an emotional mess. But now I was falling apart.
“You’re not an emotional mess,” Linc whispered, and I stilled. I hadn’t even realized I’d said those things out loud.
Unaware of my revelation, he continued, “It’s important to you. You understand what will happen if their relationship falls apart—you saw it with your own parents—and you don’t want that to happen to Jacques or Sophia and Pierre.”
He pulled back just enough to tilt my face up and kiss my forehead, his lips lingering there before he nuzzled my temple.
“Rusty,” Sophia called out, and I pulled back to see her arms out wide as she walked into the room.
I saw the moment Sophia spotted us tucked away in the corner of the kitchen, and her smile slipped. But she walked over to us, and a spark of hope lit up inside me, fanned by the barest of breezes. Linc kept one arm around me and kissed Sophia on both cheeks.
“Hello, Sophia,” I said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Carina.” She nodded and looked over her shoulder to her husband.
Pierre was close behind her and reached out to shake Linc’s hand. Pierre never once turned in my direction. He didn’t even acknowledge I was in the room.
“Right, if you’ll excuse me,” I said, overly cheery as the ember died inside me. I stepped away from Linc and mumbled, “I have to check on a few things.”
I entered the walk-in pantry and slid the door closed behind me. I needed a moment. I gripped the sink and exhaled slowly, thinking about all the wonderful things in my life. I didn’t need them, and I’d certainly be happier without them if they were going to treat me like this.
But Linc was right. I wanted Jacques to have his parents in his life, and I wanted Peanut to know their grandparents.
I picked up the baster and went back into the kitchen, a smile—that probably looked as fake as it felt—plastered on my lips.
“Darlin’, what can I do to help?” Trav asked as he finished washing his hands. He saw the baster and took it out of my hand and rested his other hand low on my back. “Are you okay?” he whispered, his face close to mine.
I nodded and pressed my lips into a small smile. It was the best I could do.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick squeeze, then offered, “I’ll check the turkey. I don’t want your back to hurt from bending over.”
