Wreck Me - Page 183

I don’t need any damn thinking time.

***

The next morning, I’m in a sour mood when my parents visit, but that vanishes when I see my little sister. A smile parts my lips at her animated chatter and bubbly face. She’s a sweet bundle of energy.

After the doctor discharges me, I hop into my father’s car.

Resting my cheek against the window, I think of Abigail, needing to see her.

When he parks in front of a coffee shop, Mom says, “I’ll be right back.”

Her eyes sparkle when she returns with a cup of coffee.

“You can only imagine how much I have loved both of you because I gave up this happy-maker for nine months straight. Twice.”

“Seriously, Mom.”

She takes a sip, closes her eyes, and says, “I had an interesting conversation with Abigail.”

I’m going to wring her neck. The lengths she would go to keep me out is almost impressive.

“And?”

I scratch my neck, and she says, “You had to fall for someone in her position?”

“Mom, I fell for her.”

“She’s afraid for you, and imagine my shock when she said it’s her fault and I should hate her and take you away.”

“It’s not her fault.”

“Of course it’s not, but does knowing that make it any easier? When you have children, you’ll realize their well-being is above everything else.”

“Mom, I don’t know what to do, but I refuse to live without her.”

“Maybe just not give up.” My head snaps to her, and she smiles. “This is your hurdle as a couple.”

Thanks to her, my mom knows way more than she should.

“Don’t look at me like that. But I would also say, take a step back and think about everything. Surprise your brain for once with patience.”

I burst into laughter. “You’re the best, Mom. But we both know my brain has no clue what patience is.”

When we reach the house, I head straight to the shower. Letting the hot water unknot my muscles, I’m going over my talks with Abigail and my mother when my phone rings. Drying myself quickly, I answer Blake.

“What’s up?”

“Come and see for yourself.”

Changing quickly, I grab the keys from my nightstand and drive to their house now fully renovated after the fire. Not my finest moment, but I can’t change the past. I let myself in and come to a complete stop in the hallway.

In the living room, Abigail holds a bottle of tequila in one hand, and in the other, she balances a lemon slice and salt.

Mia tries to grab the bottle, but Abigail lifts it to her mouth. “You’ll need it too. Trust me. Why do we go for the brooding, asshole-ish type? I mean, what? Do we women come into the world with two pre-established instincts? We’ll save the children, and we’ll end up falling for the daredevil, growly bad boys?”

I purse my lips. She’s wasted. I lean against the doorframe while she goes on.

“I was going through my bleak existence. I was fine. I mean, as okay as you could be in our position, right? And then he, we shall not name him—”