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Me: Is that a birthday special?
Sunshine: It’s because you’re my sister, and there’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for you.
Grumpy: On that we agree.
Me: I need to tell you both something, and I hope you don’t freak out.
Grumpy: That’s a terrible way to start a conversation. I don’t even want to tell you what I’m thinking; I will go to jail for murder.
Sunshine: I’m going to be an uncle again?
Me: OMG No. I’m not pregnant.
Grumpy: Then I’m listening.
Me: I want to write romance novels… Like for a living.
Grumpy: That’s great. Let me know how I can help. I’m sure Lucy already has a thousand ideas.
Sunshine: Football romance? Do you need me to pose with them?
Me: Don’t get mad, but they’re hockey romance.
Grumpy: That means I’m the favorite.
Sunshine: That hurts me, Avery.
Me: That doesn’t mean I can’t do football later. Calm your tits.
Sunshine: My tits refuse to be calm, but I’m proud of you. I’m glad you found something you love and are going after it.
Grumpy: Me too.
Me: I love you guys.
Grumpy: I love you.
Sunshine: Your favorite brother loves you very much.
As I click out of my messages, I realize I’m crying again… because of course. I really did underestimate them, and even though it still hurts, I breathe a little easier than I did yesterday.
“Told you they’d be supportive,” Lucy answers all smug-like as she sits back down, armed with the entire cake and our forks.
I blow out a breath, push to my feet, and cross the room to get the envelope. I turn around with it in my hand to find three sets of eyes watching me. I don’t think Mason cares either way, but he’s looking my way, so it counts.
My stomach drops as I rip open the envelope and pull out a check for more than the agreed upon amount. This right here solidifies my decision. I will not be paid off to not have feelings. Money won’t make the pieces of my heart stitch back together. It won’t make me feel like there’s not some critical part of me that’s missing.
I wipe away my tears, shred the check into tiny pieces, and shove them back in the envelope. With my dignity intact, I hand it to Lucy.
“Can you make sure this gets back to Foster?”
“Sure can,” she agrees, and takes it with a wink. “I’ll make sure your brother delivers it to him personally.”
They’ll bothlovethat.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
It only took five days of waiting to finally get called to the big office upstairs—five days of lashing out, playing like shit, and being an all-around prick.
