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She tapped her foot, her brows drawn tight. Her boot was on her other leg.
I let out a sharp exhale. “Fine. I guess I should probably be going.”
I stepped away from Lark, but she immediately reached out, grabbing my arm. “Wait,” she said, her voice on the edge of panic. She looked at her mother, eyes wide. “I want him to stay.”
Winnie tensed. “Excuse me?”
Lark dug her fingers into my arm. “I want him to stay. I’m sorry you got woken up, but I don’t want Reid to leave.”
“He can’t stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because.” Winnie raised her hands like this was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “He isn’t good for you, Lark. Him and his whole family have done nothing but bring you heartache and pain, and I will not let him break you even more than you already are.”
Lark gasped, and her mother’s words sliced like a knife. It wasn’t true that my family had only brought Lark hardship. My family had held her together long before she lost my sister. But she had a point about me.
It always hurt the most when someone hurled the worst things you think about yourself back in your face. Because I knew, deep in my core, that I wasn’t good enough for her. My past mistakes were catastrophic, and she needed someone who could protect her better than I could. I would always have her back, but I wasn’t worthy for a heart like hers. She’d been through enough. She deserved a perfect partner and that sure as hell wasn’t me.
“Mom,” Lark said, stunned. “Stop this.” Letting my arm go, she stepped between me and her mother.
Despite the sobering truth of the moment, my heart squeezed.
“You need to stop with this. The Ramseys are not at fault for me leaving town.”
“I doubt that.”
Lark let out a frustrated growl. “Look, I understand that this is your home, but I cannot have you acting like this toward people I love. I came here to help you, Mom, but I don’t want Reid to leave.”
Winnie gave her daughter a look as if she’d swallowed spoiled milk. “And what are you going to do if I say no?”
Lark pinned her shoulders back, lifting her chin.
A pang of familiarity shot through my chest. There she was; that was the Lark I remembered.
“Then I will leave.”
Winnie scoffed. “Where are you going to go?”
Lark set her jaw. “The Ramseys own a bed-and-breakfast, Mother. I’m sure they’ll have a room for me.”
Winnie blinked. Her face slowly shifted from disgusted indignation to panic. “I need you here.”
Lark nodded. “I can come by every day and help you. I can continue to run the store. I don’t need to stay here.”
Winnie’s chest started to heave, her eyes bulging. “You can’t leave me. I’m hurt.”
“I’ll be around.”
Winnie glanced at me, her face shifting again to anger, like this was my fault. Maybe it was, but Lark didn’t need this kind of behavior from her own mother. A mother who may or may not have lied about the severity of her injuries to lure her daughter back to town.
When I remained silent, Winnie looked back at her daughter as if she were trying to surmise whether Lark was bluffing. I didn’t think she was, and apparently Winnie came to the same conclusion because she let out a long, heavy breath, her arms falling limp at her sides.
“Okay,” she said, her voice a weak whisper. Her forehead crinkled like she was in pain and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do whatever you want. I’m not going to stop you.”
Lark hesitated, her mouth turning down at the corners. “Are you getting a migraine?”
Winnie sighed again. “I’m due for my medication.”
