Page 31 of The Spare
Went to my parents’ house today with Xander—consider us even
A couple of minutes later, a call came in from Sloan. She never called me.
“Are you guys okay?” she asked without saying hello when I picked up. “Xander is always a little down when we leave the house.”
“Yeah, we're fine. I just dropped him off at his place.” Why did she call me instead of him? ''Did you talk to Xander?”
“No, I just wanted to check. I usually give him space after our visits.” I could hear a sigh of relief. She was the reason Xander got through the worst of it. “Are you okay?”
She called out of concern for Xander, not me. I had to keep reminding myself of that fact. “Yes, Sloan. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for—”
“You don’t need to thank me. He’s my best friend. If youwantto thank me, don’t leave again. It was really hard on him.”
“I won’t.”
“Thanks for talking to Henry.”
“You don’t need to thank me. He’s my best friend,” I teased, and she laughed. A pleasant and familiar warmth filled my chest at the sound. Then, the gnawing that always seemed to follow returned.
Once I stopped denying the feelings were there, I spent too much time trying to figure out why.
Why was she stuck in my head?
Why was I always thinking about her? Why was the idea of keeping her at arm’s length still better than being an ocean away? Especially when being away meant I wouldn’t have to feeleverythingas intensely?
Sloan and I talked about nothing in particular for a few minutes before she had to go. I hung up and tucked my phone back in my pocket.
Originally, I thought it was our shared interests that endeared her to me. Or that she was always looking out for the people she loved. Over the years, she’d been the one to steadily chip away at the pain and help us heal. She was the one to subtly, and sometimes not so subtly, make us face things we didn’t want to.
I realized something today. I wanted her to be happy, and I wanted to be the one to make her happy. I wanted to ease her pain and let her ease mine.
She wasn’t stuck in my head.
She was stuck in my heart.
Shit.
CHAPTER16
Sloan
“Ican’t believe you came to this thing,” CeCe whispered to me over her third mimosa. Society dictated that we all be pickled drones of happy housewives, and CeCe took the pickled part very seriously. “I almost didn’t show up, and I have literally nothing better to do.”
“Yeah, last time I make that mistake.” I laughed as I tried to read the document on my phone, covertly placed beneath a napkin fort.
I can’t believe I had to take the day off for this.
Now, into the second hour of a planning committee brunch for the Manhattan Society Junior League, I rechecked my phone to see if the paperwork for the Burton merger came through. We were in talks with the security and exchange commission to see if the acquisition would hold up to governmental scrutiny. Penelope went to D.C for the week to help smooth things over. I was supposed to go too. But I was needed here, sitting still and looking pretty.
I looked like society Barbie. The tweed Chanel jacket was itchy. The pearl necklace bothered my neck, the earrings felt too large, and I hated it all. My purse was large enough to hold a change of clothes if the embarrassment of being in this ridiculous outfit became too much.
The Junior League selected the venue and confirmed the details for this year's debutante ball. As a chair of the committee, I was required to be here. My mother generously gave me the seat in one of her attempts to help me feel like I fit in.
I couldn’t even blame her. I spent so many years trying to fit in these rooms in some ridiculous attempt to be the granddaughter her parents might want to meet. When my mother recognized this unrelenting desire, she took it as a duty to give me every shot. Years after my debutante ball, I realized how much I didn’t care what they thought about me.
The rejection still hurt, though.
“At least the cake is good,” I said as I stood at the end of the meeting, making no attempt to hide my phone.
