It’s petty of me to think these things. He wants to keep those memories of her alive because he was a good husband.
But I can’t stop myself.
That’s why I need to take a break from him. Why I need to consider the consequences before throwing myself into a situation this serious. His daughter asked me to be her new mommy. That’s big. Huge. A little girl’s heart is on the line, and I can’t break it if everything doesn’t go well with Dallas.
I grab my phone and text Stella.
Me: You busy?
She got home from the bed and breakfast yesterday, and nothing was on her schedule for the day.
Stella: Nope. Just going over some scripts. What’s up?
Me: I picked up Maven from school for Dallas because she was sick, and now, I’m not feeling so hot myself. Would you be able to watch her until Dallas got home, so I could get some rest at my apartment?
Stella: I’ll be there in 15. You need anything?
Me: I’m good. Thank you.
Her answer slows down my heart rate. Now, I need to make sure she doesn’t notice anything is off with me. I need to put my actress face on and hope the actress herself doesn’t find out I’m a fraud.
I’m still in the kitchen when Stella walks in. She rushes into the room and falls down in the chair across from me.
“You feeling any better?” she asks with concern.
“Not really,” I mutter. “I just need to lie down. I’ve been working on the nursery all morning, and I think I overdid it. That, or the twins are pissed that I fed them a healthy breakfast this morning.”
She laughs and gets up to wrap her arms around my shoulders. “You take care of yourself, girlfriend. Call me here soon.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Dallas
It’s been a hell of a day.
The shop’s phone has been blowing up all day with people wanting maintenance on their machines that weren’t scheduled in. I took them, of course, but I’m feeling overwhelmed.
I can’t wait to get home to my girls. Willow texted me a few hours ago when she picked up Maven, but I haven’t heard anything from her since even though I’ve tried calling. I’m guessing they fell asleep when Maven made her put on cartoons.
I wasn’t sure how Willow would react when I asked her to take Maven to the house, but she didn’t seem to have a problem, which is a fucking relief. I don’t want her to feel like she can’t step foot through my front door. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable in my home. I want her to feel so fucking good there that she decides to move in.
I start my engine and then kill it a few seconds later.
Fuck. She’s going to see them.
She’s going to see all of Lucy’s stuff. I haven’t built up the courage to move anything related to Lucy. Her toothbrush is in the holder, her clothes are in the closet, her touch is everywhere. I haven’t moved anything because it’s comforting, knowing there’s a part of her there. I can’t forget about her if her bracelet is still on the kitchen counter. I can’t forget her if I see her favorite pink top when I open the closet.
I don’t want that to change. I don’t want to forget the woman I loved. I don’t know if I can move her things yet, but I have a feeling that Willow won’t be comfortable until I do.
I call her again. No answer. I text her next.
Me: You doing okay over there?
I start my truck again and head home. She still hasn’t answered when I pull into the driveway, and instead of parking next to her car, I see Stella’s red BMW. I walk in, check in on Maven sleeping in my bedroom, and then meet Stella in the kitchen. She’s at the table going over scripts.
“Hey,” I greet, tossing my keys onto the counter.
She presses a finger to her lips. “We don’t want to wake her up. She’s been knocked out for a few hours.”
I nod, lowering my voice. “Where’s Willow? I’ve tried calling her a few times but no answer.” Anytime Willow goes MIA, I go into nervous-wreck mode.
“She texted me and asked me to come hang out because she wasn’t feeling well. She wanted to go home and lie down.”
I lean back against the counter, resting on my elbows. “Huh. I wonder why she didn’t mention anything to me.”
She chuckles. “You know Willow. She doesn’t want to inconvenience anyone.”
“You heard from her since she left?”
She shakes her head. “She seemed like she couldn’t wait to get out of here. I wish I had more for you, but she’s been distant with me lately. It most likely has something to do with her fear of sharing anything with me since it will get back to you because my fiancé has a big-ass mouth.”
“Fuck, sorry ’bout that. I don’t want to come between the two of you. If it helps, I don’t expect anything from you. Your loyalty is to her.”
They’ve been close for years, and I hate that she has no one to turn to right now.
She gets up. “No worries. She’s used to dealing with shit on her own. Brett made her that way. She kept all of their problems inside because she was sick of us telling her to break up with him every day. It’s hard to vent to people when they agree the guy you’re venting about is an asshole.”
“I get it.”
“I have to head out. I have a reading for the new season of my show in an hour.” She kisses my cheek. “Let me know if you hear from Willow, okay? And I’ll do the same for you. I’ll call her on my way to set and ask if she wants to come with me. Maybe I can get something out of her.”
I hug her. “Thank you for watching Maven. Be careful, and keep me updated.”
“You’re welcome, and of course.”
Maven is sound asleep and snoring when I go to check on her again. She insists on sleeping in my bed if she coughs the wrong way. Some might find it annoying, but I enjoy that she considers my space a healing place.
I turn off the TV and do a once-over of the room.
Then, a twice-over.
Willow didn’t run because she was sick.
I was right.
She ran because Lucy was everywhere.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Willow
Even though I don’t know where I’m going, I packed an overnight bag. All I’m sure of is, I need to get out of Blue Beech for a minute and clear my head.
Is it sad that Lucy’s stuff upset me?
I’ve been second best to Stella for years. Her assistant. The second choice to hang out with and only when someone wants to get closer to her. People have looked past me to see the celebrity. I can handle not being the star in the spotlight, but being second place in someone’s heart isn’t an option.
My SUV’s sunroof is open. The music is up while I drive down a deserted road. I didn’t turn on my GPS. I’m just driving. I’m blurting out the words to my favorite song when a sharp pain shoots through me, causing me to buckle forward. I swerve to the side of the road when another one hits me just seconds later. Tears well in my eyes, and the pain overtakes me. This isn’t a baby kicking or morning sickness.