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elliot
I sankonto the couch beside Emma and she immediately curled into my side, Uni clutched tightly in her arms. Her eyes were still a little glassy, and she was clingier than usual, so I assumed she was still not feeling well.
I hated to see her sick, but other than giving her medicine and extra love, there was nothing else I could do. Wrapping my arm around her, I settled deeper into the couch and blankly stared at the cartoon on TV. I tried to focus on the show, but my mind couldn't help but wander back to last night.
After telling Reagan everything, she retreated to her room and this morning, she all but sprinted from the house when I told her she could take the day off. I didn’t know why I stupidly assumed she'd hang out with us today. Of course, she'd want to see Lily. Unless she was using Lily as a cover for seeing Benji again.
Just the thought made my blood boil.
I knew it wasn't fair. I couldn't get mad at her for trying to date. But I still didn't fucking like it. The idea of her with him, under him, made me seethe.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to focus on the TV again. I needed to get my head on straight before she got home. I couldn't jump her as soon as she got home again, demanding to know things I had no right to know.
My phone rang and Emma tensed. "It's okay," I soothed, grabbing my phone from the end table beside me. I inwardly groaned at Cora's name on the screen. "It's Grammy. I need to answer."
Emma barely lifted her body enough for me to push myself off the couch. With a deep breath, I answered the phone and pressed it to my ear.
"Hey, Cora," I said as I walked down the hall. I stopped at my room, but my eyes stayed on Reagan's door.
"I haven't seen Emma in a few days," she said, jumping straight into it. I sighed and rested my hand on the wall, bowing my head slightly.
"She's sick," I said.
"Sick?" she repeated, sounding alarmed. "Why didn't you call me?"
"It's just another earache," I explained. "She's okay. We took her to the doctor yesterday—"
"We?" she interrupted, and I took a deep breath.
"Reagan and I," I said. I thought it would be obvious who I meant bywe.
"So, she knew, but not me," she bit out, and I rolled my eyes.
"She was with Em when she got sick," I said. "Rae called me at work, and I rushed home. I didn't think about calling you. There was so much going on." She was silent for a long moment, and I braced myself for whatever bullshit was about to spew from her mouth.
"How are things with her?" she asked. I didn't need to ask whichhershe meant. I knew it was Reagan.
"Great," I said, forcing my voice to be light. "She's amazing with Em, and she's a surprisingly good cook." I laughed, but Cora didn't.
"She's cooking, too?"
My smile fell. Why did that question feel like a trap?
"Yep," I said tightly. She made a humming sound that grated down my bones. "Is that a problem?"
"No," she said tightly. "I just didn't realize she was playing cook and nanny. Is she cleaning too? Might as well add maid to the list." I ground my teeth together until it felt like they were going to turn to dust.
"I didn't ask her to do it," I said defensively. "She's doing it because she wants to. I don't know what I'm going to do when she leaves for the next retreat." Cora barked out a laugh, and I clutched the phone tighter in my hand.
"Those damn retreats," she said, but the word retreat felt sarcastic. "We both know she's just using it as an excuse to do drugs, and God only knows what else—"
"She barely even drinks."
I thought about her words last night.I have a problem stopping once I start. If that were true for alcohol, I assumed she didn't do drugs. And even if she did, it wasn't my business. It wasn't like she was doing them around Emma, and they obviously weren't ruling her life. I knew I did my fair share of stupid shit, including drugs, when I was her age, so I couldn't judge her for it.
"What else would she be doing?" Cora countered.
"Yoga?" I said dryly, and she huffed out another humorless laugh.
