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I shrugged, my throat too tight to speak.
My brain had told me this would happen, but my heart wouldn’t allow me to exclude her. And now the damned thing was broken.
Again.
From my other side, I could feel Shaw practically shaking. I’d told her I figured something like this was liable to happen, and I’d begged her not to run her mouth. She was the only person who knew I was pregnant, and I needed her to keep a cool head so I could stay calm too. Plus, she could potentially lose her shit and drop the bomb of not only my pregnancy, but that I was expecting twins. With the way her fingers twisted in the back of my shirt, it was obviously a struggle for her.
“So, according to you, Violet was just supposed to suck it up when Luca cheated?” Lana asked softly as she got to her feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two sisters square off. “After all the darkness, all the pain, and the mental health scare she went through—that we all held our breath over—she wasn’t allowed to move on and find happiness?”
“That boy was only using her,” Layla repeated, and I flinched.
Remington had loved me. To him, I was his forever. Falling in love had been on his bucket list, and I got to help him cross it off. I’d been his everything in a way I didn’t think I could ever truly understand. He’d saved me, and at the same time, I’d saved him too. My love for him was real, even if it had taken me a while to admit the love I felt for him was on a different level from what I had with Luca. But he’d understood what I’d struggled to acknowledge.
“Gammy, why are you being so mean?” Love Bug demanded, causing my head to snap around to find my daughter standing beside Lana. Her hands were on her hips, and she glared up at her grandmother with a fierceness that made her look like Remington but reminded me so much of Luca, it brought tears to my eyes. “I don’t understand anything you’re saying, but your voice is angry, and you’re making my mommy sad. If Daddy knew anyone made her sad, he’d be mad. But my daddy isn’t here, so I’ll be mad for him. You say sorry to my mommy right now, or you go home and think about what kind of person you want to be. A mean one who makes people sad, or a nice one who doesn’t make them cry.”
Aunt Emmie clapped her hands. “Bravo, Love Bug. You tell her, sweet girl.” Turning her green gaze on Layla, she cocked a brow. “Well, which is it going to be? Are you going to apologize and be quiet for the rest of this appointment, or do I need to have Marcus drive you back? And then you can explain to Jesse why your granddaughter kicked you out before her mother even tried on the first dress.”
Layla’s brown eyes lingered on Love Bug for a moment before she pressed her lips into a hard line, but she sat down. Folding her hands together, she remained sullenly silent. She didn’t bother to apologize, and it was beyond obvious Aunt Emmie wasn’t pleased with her childish behavior.
I wasn’t so sure Layla’s silence was any better than her running her mouth, but at least it was quiet for the moment.
Kayla cleared her throat. “Well, um, about the dress colors…?”
I sucked in a deep breath and tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “Thank you for forewarning me about the possible buyer’s remorse, but I still want to see the colors we already discussed.”
“Perfect.” Kayla’s gaze drifted over to Layla, hardened, and then returned to me. “This is for your day, Violet. The only opinion that matters when it comes to your dress is your own. Remember that, and you’ll find the perfect dress in no time.”
Chapter 6
Luca
Grabbing the sports drink, I guzzled half the bottle before picking up my phone. We were only about an hour into practice, but I always took a few breaks to check my phone throughout the day to make sure my girls were doing okay. With family in town to help Vi shop for her wedding dress, the need to look at my texts was enough to make my skin feel tight.
Seeing I had a few missed texts and calls from my brother and sister, I opened the messages.
Lucy: Mom is being a total momzilla. Vi is NOT enjoying finding her dress. WTF is Mom’s problem with Vi having a dress that isn’t white? Everything I’ve seen her in has been beautiful. But she’s not able to put her heart into picking one because Mom is just sitting there all sulky and judgmental.
Lyric: Mila texted me. Mom has already run her mouth once and nearly brought Vi to tears. But apparently Love Bug put her in her place. All over the color of a fucking dress! Who the hell cares what color she wears? White is overrated anyway. And didn’t you tell me you figured Vi would want purple anyway? That’s her color. I’ve never seen that girl in anything but some shade of purple. Vi isn’t Vi without purple, damn it.
Grunting at my siblings’ texts, I hit connect on Lucy’s contact, figuring since she was with Violet, she could tell me what was going on better than my brother, who was back at my house.
It barely rang once before my sister answered. “Can you leave practice early?” she whispered.
“Is Mom really being that bad?” I demanded, taking another gulp of the sports drink.
“Worse, actually. Vi has tried on four dresses. Every one of them has been beautiful. Just looking at her has brought us all to tears. Except for Mom. She’s just sitting there like a petulant brat, refusing to even look at Violet when she comes out in the dresses.”
I screwed the cap on my bottle and tossed it into my open gym bag. “Ric said Love Bug went off on her.”
Lucy snickered. “It was beautiful. She’s so much like you when it comes to protecting Vi that it melts my heart. The sass she possesses is definitely all you.”
“Does Dad know how Mom is acting?” I asked, picking up my gym bag. I glanced over at my coach. I got special treatment thanks to Remington and his friendship with the team owner. If Violet or Love Bug needed me, they didn’t say shit about me leaving early—or not showing up for practice if it was a big enough emergency. My teammates talked shit about me behind my back, but not a single one of them dared say any of it to my face.
“I plan on telling him, but I think this is something you need to deal with personally before he jumps in.”
“I’m leaving now and will be there as soon as I can.”
After stopping long enough to let my coach know I had a family emergency, I jogged out to my vehicle and threw my stuff in the passenger seat. Buckling my seat belt, I pulled into traffic and turned in the direction my GPS told me the designer’s shop was located.
