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“Sasha—” I began.
“Now really isn’t a good time. Trust me, she can hear us from her bedroom.”
“Can I at least apologize?”
Sasha turned to face me, finally looking me in the eye for more than a passing glance. Her gaze was shuttered. Everything about her screamed that she had her walls firmly in place.
“I overstepped. I shouldn’t have even talked to her dad. I should’ve just called you and told you.”
She blinked at me. She and Quinn shared that habit, blinking when they were thinking hard. My heart twisted in my chest. I was in love with Sasha, and I also loved Quinn. In mere months, the two of them felt indispensable in my life. I would do anything to make sure they were okay, to keep them safe.
“What is it?” I heard myself asking, pressing ahead even though I probably shouldn’t.
“I appreciate your apology, but I need some time.”
I heard Quinn’s door opening, followed by the bathroom door closing a few seconds later. “Can we have lunch together tomorrow?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“I’ll call you.”
“Sasha, please.”
“I’ll call you,” she repeated.
Because she seemed to have a sixth sense, Quinn came out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen. This girl, who spent most evenings in her bedroom unless prodded by us, plopped down at the kitchen table with her laptop. “Mom, I need some help with math,” she announced.
I opened my mouth to offer to help. Because Sasha hated math. I didn’t mind math. Not that I thought I was better at it, but I had, in fact, helped Quinn with her math homework several times.
When I looked at Sasha, she simply shook her head, just barely.
Quinn looked at me. “I think that means you’re supposed to leave. She overreacts like this sometimes.”
Sasha’s expression turned stony. I wanted, badly, to cross the kitchen and pull her into my arms and melt her anger away. I didn’t want to leave, but I wasn’t going to make a scene in front of Quinn, so I said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
For the first time in months, I didn’t spend the night with Sasha curled up warm beside me, her silky skin pressed against mine.
Hours later, I lay in my own bed, missing Sasha acutely and feeling frustrated. I punched my pillows because I couldn’t get them right. Restless, I reached for my phone and typed out a quick text to her.
Me:To reiterate, I’m sorry. I’m not exactly sure how I screwed up so badly, but please talk to me.
Sasha:I’ll call when I’m ready.
ChapterThirty-One
SASHA
“Drama much?” Melanie asked.
My mouth dropped open. “Drama?”
She nodded, pursing her lips before taking a sip of coffee.
It was a full week later, and I still hadn’t called Noah. He tried to call me and texted and sent me flowers twice—at work and here. Melanie had answered the door for that delivery, so she knew I’d gotten them. She’d even read the card.
“Yes,” she repeated after she swallowed her coffee and straightened in her chair. “You’re overreacting. Now that you’ve overreacted, you’re compounding it. I know you well enough to say that, and you need to hear it.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she held her hand up. “Wait. You know I love you and Quinn like family. You have been raising her by yourself since you had her. It makes complete sense that you’re overprotective. You’ve had to be. It’s always been just you. I never dated as a single mother, but I can imagine it’s like walking through a field of landmines. There’s no easy way to do it. It’s a constant dance of who to let in, how to keep your distance, and how to assess when to let someone into your life and get to know your daughter.”
Tears stung in my eyes, but I nodded, the defensiveness inside easing slightly. “It is. Noah’s the first man I introduced to Quinn.”
