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“He…never mind.”
“Rebelle,” Justine warned. “You know you need to work on opening up…”
Rebelle sighed. Her emotions were taut and ready to snap. So much change in a short time, so much out of her control. She was only just getting used to being around Will now but that didn’t mean it was easy. Combined with the trailer home, which she hated to admit she loved and the washing machine. Ugh, she knew she was being ridiculous but her whole life felt like it was turned upside down. It may not have been perfect but what she had before washers. She had earned it all, no one else, just her.
“I Googled him and I freaked out when I saw what he was like on his show. I had no clue he was a freaking billionaire which just made it all worse.”
Justine’s eyes bugged. “You didn’t know? I thought you knew!”
Rebelle shook her head.
“Well, most women would be very happy to discover they had a billionaire wanting to spend all his time with them,” Justine snorted.
“Well, not me. And he doesn’t want to spend time with me, he’s spending it with the animals. I panicked when I saw how aggressive he was. It was so like Marcus that I just... couldn’t. So I kicked him out.”
“Understandable.”
“Then he pulled together a file of his entire life and gave it to me. Just opened himself up to a complete stranger, like it wasnothing!”
“He did? Oh my God that’s so…” Justine trailed off at Rebelle’s glare.
“Anyway, then I fainted and he cared for me, bought me a trailer and here we are.”
Justine sat forward in her seat. “Wait, why did you faint? Are you okay? Why did he buy you a home? Where is your home?”
There was a heavy pause, the atmosphere became oppressive. Rebelle could feel Justine eyeballing her hard. She pivoted on her heel, her foot sliding out from the sandal as another strap split. Cursing, she met Justine’s stare. She expected censure, scolding but not the tears welling in her new friends’ eyes.
“Where have you been living, Rebelle?” she whispered.
Rebelle pushed out her breath, her eyes closing as she gave up. She surrendered her secret.
“I’ve been living at the shelter, in one of the storerooms.”
There was a choked sound and she had the urge to hug Justine and tell her it was okay. Which was bizarre because Rebelle never touched people and she sure as shit didn’t comfort anyone. Especially not when that comforting bitterness crept up in her throat and threatened to spill out and blame everyone else for what happened to her.
“Marcus had debts. He died, and the house went with him. Everything went with him, and I had nothing except the shelter, due to some legal loophole. It was all I had so that’s where I stayed,” she shrugged, not knowing what else to say.
“So, you’ve been sleeping there? Eating there? Showering?” Justine’s words were hardly more than a whisper.
Rebelle flinched. “I think it’s better if I don’t answer these questions, it’ll just make us both feel worse.”
Justine nodded vigorously. “Rebelle, I’m so sorry I didn’t do more. That none of us did more.”
Something cracked in Rebelle’s chest and spilled out, warm and soothing. “Don’t. Don’t do that, that’s not what I want. And look, I’m getting free therapy so really, I’m doing okay,” she joked weakly.
Justine pushed out a shaky breath. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for putting us back on track,” Rebelle replied, feeling her lip quirk up on one side.
Justine gaped at her. “I’m sorry. Is that a smile?”
Rebelle fought against the muscles trying to widen the grin on her face. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Justine snorted, “It is! It’s a smile. Do it again, do it again!”
“That’s not how smiles work.”
“It is when you’re around people who make you smile.” Justine’s words landed heavily. Rebelle didn’t know the last time she had been around people who made her smile, except for this moment. And maybe when she told Will that Parfait was pregnant, that made him so happy, excited like a little kid.
