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“That’s nice.” Mom sighs at the same time as Fran asks, “And?”
“And mind your own fucking business.”
“I am minding my own fucking business!” she snaps, and Mom jumps right in to pacify the situation. “No fighting. Civilized conversation at the table.”
Fran puts her fork down, pushing her plate away. Her face is all kinds of twisted and sorry-looking, and I know there’s something wrong before she even says anything.
“I need to make sure you have someone to watch your back when I’m gone.” Her eyes are all wide and waterlogged.
“What are you talking about?” My heart is racing, and I don’t mean to snap, but Fran doesn’t cry unless it’s something serious. Like her parents dying. That’s the only time she’s ever really cried.
“Can we all calm down?” Mom stands to rummage in the kitchen. When she returns, she has a bottle of scotch in her hand and three glasses. She pours one and hands it to Fran. “Sniff.” Then another for me and one for herself. “There’s no use stressing,” she tells Fran. “Your ob-gyn has a plan. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Can someone tell me what’s going on? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”
Fran takes a long inhale over the rim of her glass. I still think it’s fucking weird, but whatever makes her happy and keeps her ticking.
“I’m okay, it’s just that my placenta is in the wrong place, and I’m going to have to leave early because my doctor’s put me on bed rest.”
“And?”
“And I’m not ready to leave!” she grits out, her frustration evident even through her tears. “I can’t just leave you.”
Taking her hand, I link her fingers with mine. “Yeah, you can. I’m a grown-ass man, I don’t need you to put yourself or your baby in danger for me.”
“But I haven’t finished organizing everything, and there’s no one to have your back.”
“Dex will be there.”
“Dex cares about the business. He’s all about the business and the money…” She sniffs, squeezing my hand tighter.
“It’s why I made him VP.” My laugh doesn’t have the soothing effect I’d hoped for. If anything, it gets her even more worked up.
“But you need someone to be about you and what you want. You need someone to have your back and your vision…and Ava cares. I know she does, and if she loves you, then she’ll make sure you are happy and not just doing shit for the sake of success or the money. She’ll have your back, and you care enough about her that you’ll listen to her. I know you care. I do.”
“This is what you’ve been stewing over all day?” Mom asks her crossly.
“You don’t understand, Elizab—”
“Fran!”
“Damon, Ava’s going to find out you orchestrated everything, and she’s going to hate you. And there’ll be no going back because she won’t trust you ever again, and you can’t love someone you don’t trust. So, you have to fix everything. You have to give her Monroe, and you have to walk away from it completely. It’s not worth it. You know that, don’t you?”
I pull my vibrating phone from my pocket, and as I’m about to check it, Fran places her hand over it, peering up at me.
“If you let her go, she’ll come back to you.”
She lifts her hand, and my screen instantly lights up.
Ava
I wish you were here.
Damon
Me too.
Ava
