Her house was warm and quiet. Dutch was at the clubhouse. She sat me on the couch, wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, and put the kettle on.
“I’m sorry,” I managed. My voice was still wrecked. “I don’t know what—”
“Don’t.” She handed me a mug and sat beside me. “You’ve been holding this together for months. Something had to give.”
“My client—” I took a shaky breath. “She broke through today. She just let it come. And I sat there watching her do the thing I haven’t—” I couldn’t finish.
“And you realized you haven’t let yourself feel anything.”
“I’ve been so stupid.” More tears. “I thought I was being strong. I was just hiding.”
“Men are useless, Bea.” Indira said it quietly, the same words she’d used on that phone call a lifetime ago — napkins and wedding drama and a world that hadn’t fallen apart yet. “All of them.”
I almost laughed. Almost. “Even Dutch?”
“Especially Dutch.” She squeezed my arm. “It’s like every Venom Rider has to go through the useless stage before they figure out how to be worth a damn. Dutch did it. Colt did it. Holden’s doing it now.” She paused. “Doesn’t mean the happy ending isn’t coming. Just means they make you wait for it while they figure their shit out.”
I stared at the tea, watching the surface tremble. “I love him.” It came out wrecked. “I still love him and I keep waiting for that to stop and it won’t.”
A soft knock at the door. Lilac let herself in, still in her house clothes, hair pulled back. She looked tired — the twins were only weeks old — but she came straight to the couch and sat on my other side without asking what had happened. Indira must have told her enough.
Lilac didn’t say anything right away. She just sat with us, her shoulder against mine, and waited.
“He told me he’d come back.” I said it to the mug. “When he came to tell me about the baby. He said he’d fix himself and thenhe’d come for me.” I wiped my face with the heel of my hand. “He’s doing the work. I can see it. The therapy, the group, Mrs. Curtis — all of it. He’s different. I watched him at the birthday party with Knox and Luca and he was—” I stopped. “He’s doing everything he said he would. But he hasn’t come.”
“Maybe he’s not ready,” Lilac said.
“Or maybe he decided I’m not worth coming back for.”
“You don’t believe that,” Indira said.
“No.” More tears. “But I’m tired of watching him get better from across the room and pretending I don’t care.”
It was quiet for a while. Lilac shifted, pulling her legs up under her. “What would you do if he showed up tomorrow?” she asked.
The answer came before I could think about it. “I’d let him in.”
“Even after everything?”
“That’s what scares me. It’s not even a question. He could knock on my door right now and I’d fling it open and drag him to the bedroom.” I wiped my eyes. “We probably wouldn’t even make it to the bedroom.”
Indira let out a short laugh. “Remind me never to eat at yours again.”
I snorted. “Please. Dutch takes you on the kitchen table and you know it.”
“That is — not wrong.” Indira didn’t even try to deny it. “But I didn’t need you knowing that.”
“Too late.”
Lilac let out a long sigh. “I miss those days. Anywhere in the house, any time, no planning.” She stared at the ceiling. “The kitchen counter. The hallway. That one time on the porch—”
“And that,” Indira said, “is exactly how you ended up with a second set of twins.”
Lilac threw a cushion at her.
For a few seconds we were just laughing — messy, tearful, stupid laughing. Then it faded, and the quiet came back, and I looked at my hands. “What kind of therapist does that make me?”
“A human one,” Indira said. “You want him back. That’s not a clinical failing.”
