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PAISLEY
MADISON SWIPESTHE sponge-tipped bottle across the envelope I just passed her before pressing the flap into place. “This is a lot of thank you cards, Pais.”
I continue writing across the inside of the card in front of me, a small smile lifting my lips. “I know.”
My hand is cramping, my butt is numb, and I’ve run out of different ways to express my thanks.
It’s wonderful.
Losing my mother has been the hardest thing that’s ever happened to me, but sitting at this table, looking at the number of names listed down the guestbook from her funeral, has eased the ache in my chest a little.
I know many of these people showed up or sent flowers because of Andre, to show their allegiance to him after what happened with Frederick, but everyone came with respect. They offered kind words and compassion.
My mother was honored by the masses. Not a single person cared what she was, outside of the fact that she was my mother. There was no judgment. No snide comments about the life she lived. Not one bad word was said.
They all listened when I told them who she was, and they celebrated her with me, just like I always hoped would happen.
“Are you going to have to send all these people Christmas cards every year?” Madison takes the next card I pass off and shoves it into its coordinating envelope. “Because I’m not really interested in signing up to do this every year.”
“I don’t think so.” I don’t imagine the members of this group like making their connection that obvious.
“So what are you going to do now?” Madison wets another seal and presses it into place before leaning my way. “Will you just sit around here while Andre does his thing?” She glances toward where Oliver works in the kitchen, putting together tonight’s dinner. “Because I know there’s a lot of perks, but I feel like eventually that will get boring.”
“I think it will be okay.” I’m not quite ready to tell Madison the full extent of my relationship with Andre.
Because it is a relationship, but it’s also turning out to be a partnership.
I spend every evening in Andre’s office with him, and sometimes Victor, discussing what’s happening within The Association. I don’t understand all of it, but I’m catching up fast.
And while my suggestions might not be the ones that always ultimately win out, both men listen to me, and consider what I have to say.
It seems like Andre meant it when he said I would be at his side.
Because I go everywhere with him.
Always with at least three men around me, making sure I’m well protected, but if he goes somewhere, so do I.
“I just miss you at the club.” Madison sighs. “I guess as long as he doesn’t mind me coming to hang out all the time, I’ll suffer through.” Her eyes dip to the stacks of cards between us. “I don’t want us to lose touch again.”
I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. “We won’t. I promise.”
Madison grips my hand back, eyes edged with tears as she offers an apology she’s given me more times than I can count. “I’m so sorry about what my dad said about your mom.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” I tell her this every time. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” It wasn’t her fault I overheard her father proposition my mother. Stood just outside the door when he laid out the truth of what people thought of her in an attempt to get between her legs.
None of that was Madison’s fault. She didn’t do anything wrong.
But I definitely did.
Not only did I let some asshole dictate the way I looked at my mother and myself, I also let him decide what I ultimately thought of his daughter.
“I’m the one who should be apologizing.” I’ve never admitted the full reason for why I stopped talking to Madison right before high school, why I ended our friendship.
And I don’t want to do it now, but I have to.
Because it turns out I did the exact same thing to her that I accused everyone else of doing to my mother.
“After your parents got divorced you started being a little less—”
