Page 72
I wince. “I’m really sorry about your phone.”
Brow rising, he packs the candy away. “It’s just a phone. My stuff’s backed up. Not really a big deal. His attitude with you is the only thing pissing me off. You’re a good girl, Dece. He’s—” He swears. “—blind if he can’t see that.”
I wrap myself in a hug. “I think the problem is that he only sees me as a good girl, and now that I’m not behaving like one according to him, he’s struggling to see me at all.”
A low rumble moves through Wynnter’s chest. “Well. That’s true enough.”
It hurts to swallow past the chill sticking in my throat. “Things went so well the other day with Mom. I think I let myself hope too much that tonight could be the same.”
“Hey.” Wynnter cups my cheek, his fingers cold against my skin. “It’s all gonna work out. It’s just…growing pains. It’s gonna be painful, but in the end, you’ll all have grown.”
My heart settles, and I wrap him up in a hug. “I love you. I’m so glad I’m not going through this alone.”
Kissing my temple, he murmurs, “You never have to go through anything alone again.”
“Devina…” My mother’s voice reaches me, and my stomach knots as I turn out of Wynnter’s arms. Eyes sad, she stops a few feet away. “Devina, honey, your father and I are going to call it a night.”
Muscles tightening, I say, “Okay.”
She wrings her hands, then drops them. “Your odd little friend has negotiated an option for you and your father to communicate more…effectively. I think it’s a good idea, if you’ll allow it.”
I blink.
Wynnter snorts. “August did?”
My mother’s mouth softens, as much as it can these days. “Yes. I’ve always liked her. So…strange. But a good friend.”
“What…did she propose?” I ask as tears prick.
“Writing. Your father is going to draft a list of his concerns, and you do the same. I’ll be coming to the decoration…and soup…? Party hop?” Her brows knit slightly, because truly how was I supposed to explain on the invitation sheet that the Winslows have a mid-December tradition of decorating all their houses in tandem, with every home offering a different soup for dinner? “I’ll facilitate the exchange, then once you’ve both reviewed one another’s concerns without the opportunity to talk over each other, your father hopes you’ll be willing to discuss them further in person.” My mother lifts a gloved hand and pushes back a straying lock of her hair. “As your friend put it, it’s not quite listening, but it certainly has more potential to be heard than what happened tonight.”
Per usual, August is right.
Chest tight, I say, “I’m grateful Dad is willing to do this.”
“We love you. Your father can come off harsh, and he’s stubborn, but you know it’s only because he loves you that he’s trying so hard to make you understand, don’t you?”
It hurts to breathe, but I manage to form words in the suffocation. “I understand. Now, anyway. Before I left home, I thought he’d disown me for this. I thought you wanted to marry me off to someone who would look good for the family. I’ve…thought a lot of things, and I’m not sure whether or not they’re true anymore. I’m hopeful that seeing one another’s thoughts in print helps us understand each other better.”
Smiling, my mother opens her arms, and I leave Wynnter’s side to melt into them. She’s smaller and colder, but familiar. My heart trembles as she holds me, delicately, because that’s how she always has. She’s always held me like I might break, and she can’t bear the idea that she might be the cause. “Wynnter,” she says, while I’m fighting to hold it together.
“Yes, ma’am?” he murmurs.
“I’m sure after what you showed us, you hardly need the assistance, but we will cover the replacement of your phone.”
“I appreciate the sentiment behind that,” Wynnter says.
“Also…” My mother pauses, considers, continues, “I don’t know what snapped when you came to our home that time, but I’d like you to tell me, because these past few days, I have watched you manage your emotions in a perfectly reasonable way. When your sister ruined the cookie you’d been working on for over an hour, you barely glared at her, and tonight you’ve been livid, but you’ve hardly raised your voice. Not only that, I respect the way you spoke to Devina while you were upset. I value how you’ve shown that you know how to communicate in the midst of your anger, and I appreciate how you already consider her to be a part of your team.”
Wynnter clears his throat. “You…saw the cookie thing?”
My mother smiles; it’s frail, but so present. “Yes. I did.”
Embarrassed, Wynnter shuffles, muttering, “It was…literally just a cookie. I cussed, and I think that was even too gruff a response. I dunno. Decem…Devina wants you guys to see who I really am, otherwise I’d pull back more, ’cause I do think I’m too rough for most people, but I promise I’m never gonna do anything that hurts her. No matter what.” His gaze cuts toward the gleaming house beside us, and he forces air into his lungs. “She’s everything to me, ma’am. Everything good in my life. All of it.”
“Last week, I wouldn’t have believed you.” My mother relaxes. “Tonight, I do. So why did you lose control when you came to our home several months ago?”
“Devina and I had made plans to run away together.” Wynnter blows out a breath. “I didn’t know you like I do now, so I only saw how you and your husband hurt her. Over and over. I’ve never been able to stomach it, but there was nothing I could do unless she wanted it for herself. Finally, she did. Finally, I had permission to save the woman I’ve loved from the moment I first saw her. I was going to get her and keep her safe. When that didn’t happen, it shattered my heart, and I had nowhere for the pain to go, so I lost my grip.”
