Swear (Landry Family 4)

“That’s how pathetic you are,” I tell myself.

Proving that point, I jump when my phone glows beside me. In one quick move, I swipe it up. When I see Violet’s name, I almost throw it across the room.

“Hey,” I say into the line.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I saw you’re still up.”

“How did you see I’m still up? It’s like two in the morning.”

“I was out,” she says snarkily. “I happened to see your lights on. Thought I’d check on you.”

Tossing the remote on the other side of the couch, I get comfortable. “I just can’t sleep.”

“Want me to come back by?”

“No,” I sigh. “Go home or wherever you’re going.”

“Ford called me a couple of hours ago,” she admits. “He wanted to see how you were feeling.”

“He could’ve called me.”

“I believe you said you wanted space.” She singsongs it, like she’s rubbing it in my face. “You could’ve called him, you know.”

I hate when she’s right and there’s nothing I can do about it. After a long, drawn-out sigh, I get the nerve to stop the façade and just be frank. I’m too tired to pretend anything else at this point.

“What am I doing?” I ask her. “I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

“I have no idea. You’re going to have to tell me, friend.”

“I’m just so, so tired.”

“Fine. Let me walk you through this,” she groans. “Boil it down for me. What is it that you are really afraid of? What is the image you see when you have these panic sessions.”

Choking back a memory, I clear my throat. “I’m afraid of getting in so deep with him that I’m at his mercy.”

“Elaborate.”

“Damn it, Vi,” I gruff. Getting up from the sofa, I begin pacing the

living room. “I can’t just switch my feelings on and off with Ford. I love him, Vi. Like, I love him.”

“That’s good.”

“Not if he decides he doesn’t love me back,” I point out. “What if he gets a wild hare up his ass and wants to go campaigning with Barrett? I can’t do that. We have the store. Besides, I don’t want to do that. But then what? What happens to me?”

“Whatever you want to happen to you.”

“I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am. To be strong and smart and capable. When I’m around him, I feel myself relying on him. Needing him. I don’t want to do that because . . .”

“Because it gives him power,” she says, finishing my sentence. “He told me you don’t trust him.”

Even though she can’t see me, I shrug.

“El, you’re smart to want to protect yourself. But you can’t go through life waiting on the next shoe to drop.”