Page 166 of Love Felt Like This

Lovers.

Feels so sensual.

I’m not a sensual person. Far from it.

I’m me. I’m just Beverly.

“Griffin’s my friend,” I say. “He’s just…a cool guy.”

Rob scoffs. “A cool guy?”

“Mm-hmm. A cool guy,” I say, exaggerating the word. But that’s not right, and we both know it. I don’t have the capacity to consider a word that is. “Now, are we playing this game or what?”

“You’re gonna run into walls again,” he says.

“I will not.”

“Don’t you have to take Griffin to the airport or something?”

“Wow. Gut punch,” I say, earning myself a little smirk.

I place the controller back on its home charger. I prop my fists on my hips and point to it. “I will learn to play one day.”

Rob smiles. “I know.”

He’s very confident in me. Sometimes I wonder if we Larks are simply too trusting. Maybe that’ll be our downfall.

The next two hours fly by too fast, like a whirlwind brushing past me with hail rather than the gentle snowfall from the previous two months. Griffin finished packing their bags while Rob played with Ava on the rug. Greg prepped way too many snacks. Nana sat on the phone with every person in town, spreading the news that should anyone ask about Ava, they must lie.

Daughter? What daughter?

He was just passing through to see his girlfriend, who he adores.

Me.

But the world now knows about Ava, and that genie isn’t fitting back in the bottle. Pictures are damning. I’ve already gotten a few emails asking what I know, how long I’ve known, and Wait, are you the mother?

Despite the nosy—very ill-informed—press, we’re feigning ignorance until Griffin and Jimmy can figure this thing out. This wouldn’t be the first time someone has denied clear evidence. Beau denied ever having a high school girlfriend even though we had a fun little viral video that ruined the better part of two years.

Remember that?

Remember that shit?

Beau.

Fucking Beau.

I pull up to the empty airport tarmac in my rumbling station wagon. We’re one hour away from Elk Grove, past two chain-link security gates and any cars that might have followed. Greg and Dad drove Griffin’s SUV back to the rental place in the hopes that it would shake any future unwelcome visitors from our family cabin.

When I step out of the car, the wind whistles past my ears, shifting my bangs all over and forcing me to pull everything up into a ponytail. Griffin unbuckles Ava in the back seat and hikes her onto his hip. He walks her over to me, and something about it churns my gut.

This feels a lot like goodbye.

Ava pokes a finger at the airplane. “Go, B!”

I smile. “No, I’m not going with you this time.”

But she repeats, “Go, B!”