Page 88 of Now Their Starlet

It sparks something in my mind. A memory.

Him wrapping his arms around me when I was a little girl before tossing me up into the air.

I don’t think I’ve felt that weightless since—physically or emotionally.

I cling to his sweater and nearly collapse, but his arms wrap around my shoulders, holding me upright and close to him as he makes soft, soothing noises.

The sobs that leave my chest are ugly. Even uglier than the sobs I let out in the car ride over here.

Why does he make caring about me seem so easy?

I should love it. And I do. But every little thing he does seems to stab a knife right into that gaping hole in my chest and twist.

“Why couldn’t she just love me?” I sob into his chest. “Why? Why wasn’t I enough?”

The words are torn from my lips before I even register what I’m admitting.

My body goes tight as I brace for the emotional fallout of my stupid, stupid words. Gina would throw a fucking fit if I spoke about Edison in any shape or form, and here I am, sobbing in his arms about his ex-bondmate.

“Shhh,” Edison murmurs, running a soft hand down the back of my head. “Let it out. It’s okay, Andi.”

His perfect words only make me cry harder.

“You are enough, Andi.”

“But—but then why—why did she do all this?” My voice cracks.

“Because she’s not well, and that isn’t a representation of your worth.”

I pull back, my eyes swollen and my temple pounding from how hard I was crying.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his expression melting into a smile that’s terribly sad around the edges. “I know it hurts. But... it will get easier with time. You’ll experience different kinds of love, and even though that feeling won’t ever really go away... You’ll have the life experience to know there’s more worth living for than her.”

I let his words wash over me.

The first thing that comes to mind is everyone here.

Beck and his open affection. Leo and his observant care. Eli and his intense passion. Everett and his steady support. Cameron and his earnest interest.

I know it’s probably too soon for the word love to be in the equation, especially since I don’t know Everett or Cameron very well yet, but my relationships with them all have shown me far more than the relationship with my mother ever has.

Then there’s Edison himself—with his takeout from two separate restaurants to ensure I have food I want to eat, and his efforts to make sure I feel safe, with the way he’s holding me and reassuring me in a way that feels far more perfect than what I deserve, considering I spent my entire childhood hating the guy.

“Did—did it get easier for you?” I whisper, unable to build the courage to pull away from his chest long enough to look at him. I’m afraid I’ll see an answer I don’t like in his expression.

“It did... it took a very long time, and it was a little different, because she wasn’t my mother⁠—”

“But she was your bondmate. That’s—that’s a pretty powerful relationship.”

“Yes, but there is also something to be said about the unique intensity of a mother-daughter bond,” he murmurs, continuing to softly run his hand down the back of my head. “For better or worse, you don’t get to pick that relationship, but there’s this expectation, this hope, that it should be safe.”

“And with Gina, it never will be,” I sniffle, finally building the courage to blink up at him.

“Unfortunately not,” Edison says, his smile tight.

“What did you do to make things easier?”

“Well, I have friends and I have my love of work.” Something shifts in his expression. It’s almost like some of the tension at the mention of Gina melts away. “I also had hope. Hope that we’d reconnect.”