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If I were actually smart, I wouldn’t be here nursing a torn heart while the man I love tries to save us all from an icy grave, would I?
“I’m fine, Eliza. Really.”
I hate lying.
If she hears the quiver in my voice, she doesn’t let on.
“That’s what I told him. I said you didn’t need us fussing over your personal life when you could handle it yourself. But if those stupid Twitter journalists keep coming—”
“We’re good that way, I promise. Mr. Foster has lawyers, and he’s working overtime to shut it down,” I tell her, making sure not to call him Shepherd. “Give it time. They won’t know what hit them next week.”
There’s a loud burst of static from my phone. I check the screen to make sure she’s still there until her voice comes floating back.
“Wonderful! I’d expect nothing less from any man you’ve been close with. Plus, I’m sure he doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s messing around with a girl half his age just for favors.”
A girl half his age.
Ouch.
Yes, I know there’s an age difference. I also know Eliza was similarly burned by an older man once, before she ever met Dad, so maybe that’s what she’s channeling.
And maybe I should have asked her for advice sooner before I let my heart get the piñata treatment.
“Destiny? Are you there?”
I rub circles on Molly’s neck with my fingers. “I’m here, yeah. Sorry, a little static. How are the kidlets?”
“So much trouble. But my heart is overflowing,” Eliza says fondly.
She launches into a story of their latest adventure at a theme park in California, but the waves pick up again. Soon I’m fighting too much nausea to listen.
I already know the ending.
Eliza is a great hands-on mother, and I love my little siblings, but right now, Mother Nature won’t let me count my blessings.
At least I know my family is good and they’re happy.
That’s what matters right now, with my heart too cut up over Shepherd and the storm to leave me enough emotional breathing room for anything else.
“Must be windy where you’re at! I think I can hear it,” she says.
My eyes fill with heat and I steady my breathing, though Eliza probably can’t hear it over the rushing wind. The tears are molten as they spill down my cheeks.
Damn it all.
I miss them.
I miss Dad.
I even miss my mom, wishing she’d lived long enough for me to really know her, to see if she’d ever turn into a better person than the bitter mess she was at the sudden, unexpected end of her life.
“Destiny? Am I losing you?” Eliza calls through some static, thankfully oblivious to my tears. “Your dad wants a word before I go, so I’ll hand you over.”
Oh crap. Crap.
I wipe my cheeks and suck in a shuddering breath.
It’s the wind.
