“Except you can’t run from this. That woman is carrying your child. You can’t have a fight and then just walk away when it gets tough.”
“I’m not walking away,” I said. “I’m giving her the space she wants.”
“No, you’re being a coward. Mama don’t play that. Stick it out, face up to whatever’s coming.”
“You’re the worst sister I ever had.”
“True, but I’m also the best.” I could hear the smug smile in her voice.
“I’ll let you know what’s going on tomorrow. Thanks.”
“Good luck, bro.”
I tossed my phone down on the nearest surface, frustrated beyond belief, both with myself and Michaela. And I’d throw Yael in there too for good measure. She was too smug, acting like she had her shit together when I knew full well she was a damn mess.
The door cracked open, and Michaela stuck her head inside. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “I was worried you’d leave.”
And now I felt like a jackass for even contemplating going. “I’m here.”
She leaned her back against the door. “Here’s the thing: I’m sorry for reacting the way I did, but you have to know what you did wasn’t okay either.”
“Do you get I was trying to protect you?”
“I do get that, but you went about it in the wrong way. Can I tell you a story?”
“Sure.”
“Okay.” She slid her headpiece down to hang around her neck. “I started working backstage when I was in my early twenties. There was definitely some nepotism going on, but I knew my shit, even then. But I was young, small, and a woman. Men would literally laugh in my face when I asked them to do something. So you know what I did? I stopped asking. I stopped trying to make friends and became solely about the job. It took me years to build a reputation as more than Lars Ashwood’s daughter.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And Devon Chambers’ ex-wife?”
She didn’t even hesitate or seem surprised I knew. “Right. That too. So, for you to come in, the lead singer of Unrequited, and tell these guys not to listen to me? Man, Mo, that cuts deep. That can’t happen again.”
I tossed my hands out to my side. “What should I have done? ’Cause you sure as shit shouldn’t have been lifting that table.”
“It wasn’t even heavy, and George and the other guy took the brunt of the weight. Do you think I’d do anything to harm this baby?”
“I think you’re stubborn as hell.”
Her face turned to stone. “Was that a yes? You think I’m so stubborn, I’d hurt our child? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No.” Two long strides, and I was in front of her, tipping her chin up so she’d have to look at me. “No, I don’t think that. I’m sorry I implied it.”
She shoved me away, but I only backed up a step. “Nothing changes for you, Mo. You keep your body, your job stays the same, your brain isn’t whacked-out on hormones. I’m happy about this baby, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t days where I’m resentful my body is not fully my own anymore.” Without warning, she wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed her face into my chest. “I probably shouldn't have been lifting the table.”
My heart flipped and twisted in my chest two or three times before I banded my arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I get it. I get you. This is huge and scary. Our lives are going to change. I don’t think I’ve even fully grasped it yet. Your life is already changing, and to be honest, I’ve been caught up in how cool it is you’re carrying our baby, I hadn’t stopped to think how huge this responsibility is for you.”
“Oh hell, now I’m going to cry. I never cry, and look at me. Such a damn mess.”
I laughed when she used my T-shirt to wipe her tears away. “No, no, feel free to use me as your personal tissue.”