Page 146 of Wretched Love

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Macy stopped short, her arms full of bags of clothes and indeed, the ingredients needed for margaritas. Her eyes focused on Violet who was staring at her. Who was gaping at her.

Violet didn’t have much of a relationship with my ‘friends’ before because she never truly interacted with them beyond what was expected to be polite at parties. My friends did not stop by unannounced with clothes and margaritas.

My friends did not look like Macy in a white sundress and tan cowboy boots.

And my friends did not smile at Violet in delight like Macy was doing with a warmness that could be felt from across the room.

“Oh my god, Violet’s here!” she squealed, depositing the bags on the sofa. She pulled a stunned Violet into her arms for a hug.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” she gushed once she let her go. “Which isn’t surprising, since your mother is a stone-cold hottie, and you two could be fucking sisters!”

She was still yelling, speaking rapidly and with a familiarity that was likely confusing the crap out of Violet.

“Did you know she was coming?” Macy directed the question to me.

I shook my head, keeping my eyes on my daughter.

Macy clapped her hands in glee. “I’m so happy you’re here!” she was back to Violet now. “I know your mom was so excited to pick you up from the airport, but that’s two whole days away, and then you wouldn’t have been able to meet your mom’s kick ass girlfriends.” She winked, rummaging in her purse for her phone. “Who I am about to text to get the makings of all sorts of snacks so we can have a welcome home party for Violet.” She narrowed her eyes at my daughter. “I’m assuming you just got off a horribly long flight yet somehow look amazing. Ah, the sorcery of youth,” she sighed. “If you’re terribly jetlagged, we can postpone to tomorrow?”

Violet was still processing all that was Macy, but she was smiling because it was impossible not to. “Um, no, I’m not actually that bad,” she replied before she looked to me. “And I would love to meet Mom’s girlfriends.” Her nose crinkled. “And her fiancé.”

Unease raised the hairs at the back of my neck. There was no hostility in Violet’s tone, but there was a placid curiosity that was perched on the edge of it.

“Oh, don’t worry. Swiss isn’t ever away from your mother for long,” Macy waved one hand while she typed quickly with the other. Her eyes darted to me. “Am I terrible for hijacking your first night with your daughter?” she asked sincerely. “Because if you want it just the two of you, I can text my husband to physically restrain Swiss in some kind of dungeon to stop him from coming home to you and cancel the party.” Her eyes twinkled with humor. “Though even if it was some serious dungeon, I’d give you two hours max before Swiss escapes.”

Although she was joking about the dungeon thing—at least I was pretty sure she was joking—I knew she was dead serious about tonight. Knew that she truly wanted my honest answer and that she would not be offended if I told her I just wanted to be with my daughter. I didn’t feel obligated to go along with her for the sake of politeness or to avoid potential conflict. That’s not how it worked in our little circle. And though it had taken me a long time to get there, I was just now comfortable being wholly honest.

A part of me selfishly did want tonight with Violet. But I also wasn’t ready to answer the questions I knew she wasn’t going to let go of. A gaggle of women and bikers would serve as a nice buffer.

Beyond that, I was eager for Violet to see the life I had quickly created here. To feel the love in it. The authenticity. I knew it would help her understand everything and how I’d changed so quickly.

“As long as you’re okay with it, honey?” I asked Violet. “We can just stay in, you and me, if a lot of new people sounds like too much?”

Violet shook her head without hesitating. “No. I really would love to meet everyone in Mom’s life.”

“Awesome!” Macy exclaimed.

“I would love a shower, though.” Violet looked around the house. “And I need to get my bags inside. Is there somewhere for me?” Her voice was petered out at the end, sounding more vulnerable and unsure.

“Honey, of course there is somewhere for you,” I said reassuringly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “No matter what happens, there is always somewhere for you.”

Violet smiled sadly. It was much too mature a smile for someone that young. It was melancholy I was responsible for. And she didn’t even know the full truth.

“As for the bags, don’t you touch them. The men can do the heavy lifting when they arrive. Now I am a feminist,” Macy clarified, “but I just don’t believe we should be carrying anything that a man can carry for us.” She winked at Violet.

“Sweetie, why don’t you use my shower?” I offered. “It’s got all the toiletries you like, and you can wear anything out of my closet you want.”

Violet arched a brow, eyes tracking up and down my body. “Normally I would not take you up on that offer, but seeing this new look, I am very interested to see what is in that closet,” she teased.

I rolled my eyes.

“Love her already,” Macy giggled. “I knew I would.” She leaned down to gather the bags from the sofa. “I’m going to start the margs, you show Violet her room,” she ordered, turning and walking toward the kitchen.

I did just that, first showing Violet where she’d be sleeping and then taking her into my bedroom.

No, our bedroom.

I couldn’t possibly forget about Swiss and him living here, but I didn’t grasp how jarring it might be for Violet to go into a whole new bedroom with the things of a man who was not her father scattered around the room.


Tags: Anne Malcom Romance