Page 79 of Just Like the Brontë Sisters

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do, Skylar. Just say it. You’d rather stay here, with Mitch.”

Why did my choice have to be between two men? Per Jo Beth, men were nothing more than disruptions, sure to set my life off track. Except, she’d liked Gavin and she’d loved Mitch, so was “choosing myself” even a possible resolution to this story? Plot twists danced in my mind, and I realized that to exit this scene gracefully, I must compose a Pulitzer Prize-worthy answer. I decided to stick as close as possible to the truth—to the truth that wouldn’t hurt him. “I can’t hate Mitch,” I said. “Jo Beth loved him and he’s Bijou’s father. I wasn’t counting on feeling close to him, but I do, and I won’t apologize for that.”

Gavin’s eyes grew watery and he blinked a lot, letting his focus be anything but me.

I continued. “But I don’t trust him and I can’t leave yet, because of Bijou. I have to stay here for her.”

“Your mom could take care of Bijou.”

“Jo Beth wanted me to.”

His sigh was wide, in through his nostrils and out through all his pores. “You let Jo Beth decide everything for you when she was alive. Now that she’s dead, why does she still call the shots?”

I lurched back as if he’d slapped me. “I should let you call the shots instead?”

Gavin twisted up his mouth and furrowed his brow. “I want the best for you, Skylar, which is more than Jo Beth could ever say. It’s also more than Mitch or even your parents can say. You’re my priority and I’m telling you not to trust Mitch.”

“Okay, putting everything else you just said aside, I already told you that I don’t trust Mitch.”

“Right.” He laughed bitterly. “Do you know that he and Magda are just after Jo Beth’s money?”

My head spun at his arrogance, at his assumption that he knows more about my situation than me. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know that they’ll do anything to get what they want—even if that means hurting you.”

“Gavin, do you really think I hadn’t considered those possibilities myself? I’m not as naïve as you believe. I just don’t happen to agree with you.”

He shook his head. “Please, Skylar. Come to Chicago with me. For your own good, you have to get away from Mitch and Magda.”

I should grab this opportunity, this opening for the truth. Both my mom and Mitch were right; the sooner I broke things off the better, and the less Gavin would ultimately be hurt. “Look,” I said, my voice heavy with regret, “Gavin…”

“Wait!” He dropped his fork, reached for my hands across the table, and squeezed my fingers with a startling intensity. “Don’t. Don’t tell me no, not yet. I understand that you’re probably not coming to Chicago, but you don’t need to tell me tonight. Let me believe you’re still considering it, that you’re still giving us a chance. And if not, at the very least, promise you’ll take what I said about Mitch seriously. Promise not to trust him.” His eyes bore into mine. “You owe me that much, Skylar.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering all the times Gavin had been there for me. How had I repaid him? With betrayal and with lies. He was right; I owed him that much and way, way more. I opened my eyes and nodded simply, easing my hands from his grip. “Okay. I promise.”